Forgive me iPhone, for I have sinned

Well, I guess it was only a matter of time. We live in world of convergence, where the overlap of trends and ideas has become a matter of eventuality, rather than possibility. 

So I don't even find the energy to be surprised that the Catholic Church has approved the development and launch of a new iPhone app "to invite Catholics to engage in their faith through digital technology."

For a few years now, the Church has been struggling to find its place in our modern, GPS-enabled, augmented version of reality. At the same time, developers seeking their fortune have found the world of apps to provide a seemingly inexhaustible source of inspiration. As a result, these two unconnected trends have been racing towards each other, like theoretical trains in a high school maths problem. 

At the point of impact, in amongst the smoke and twisted metal, we find ourselves faced with the prospect of an app called Confession (available for £1.19/$1.99). Penitent sinners, who find themselves too time-poor to sit in a cupboard and spill their guts to a priest, can now input their wrongdoings into a handy piece of software.

The BBC's coverage of the story points out that this newest wrinkle in the gradual modernisation of Catholicism follows on from the Pope's recent approval of social media. Last month, in his World Communications Address, Benedict XVI told young believers that the new technology provided a useful forum for people to share information with each other: "I invite young people above all to make good use of their presence in the digital world... It is important always to remember that virtual contact cannot and must not take the place of direct human contact."

Despite this warning, Confession's virtualisation of the penitence process suggests that Priests are being increasingly removed from many people's day-to-day religious behaviour. It's much easier to click your way through a bunch of tabs that help you to examine your conscience, rather than articulate your darker moments out loud. 

More importantly, it also highlights the misgivings that many people have about the concept of Confession itself - that people can act with impunity, as long as they're willing to atone for their wrongdoing later. I'm not sure exactly what God told Moses on Mount Sinai, but I'm willing to speculate that his briefing made no mention of developing an algorithm that enables people to "keep track of their sins".

It'll also be interesting to see how much trust people are willing to place in the concept of ecclesiastical privilege. Given the frequency of security breaches and hacked accounts, it's hard to imagine the world's Catholics being willing to sign up to an online archive of all their moral shortcomings. Suddenly, the whole Wikileaks controversy is starting to look like a Jonah's storm in a teacup.

One step at a time...

You know, aside from all the hate speech, defamatory remarks and incitement to violence, it's still nice to know that those fundamentalist Christians are looking out for their gay brethren. You see, they don't hate the gays, just the things that those gays do.

And they're not here to judge or condemn - that's just a bonus, like a free-with-purchase gift. Their only goal, so they say, is to encourage us all to join them on the path the righteousness. They're even willing to draw up a handy twelve-step programme to help us on our way.

Taking their cue from Alcoholics Anonymous, the Catholic Diocese of Colorado Springs has created a new programme called 'Twelve Steps Of Courage'. According to Rev. Larry Brennan, “It’s not about therapy and not about activism, it’s about support.” Although, interestingly, he does point out that it's "not for people comfortable with their gay lifestyle". Far better that they target the weaker members of the herd.

The twelve steps themselves are rather predictable, equating homosexuality with insanity and calling for a moral inventory. Which is tough, given that most gays would struggle to keep track of how many pairs of shoes they own.

And why ask God to take care of our shortcomings, when there's a host of effective surgical procedures designed for just that reason? Likewise, there's no point asking him to remove our defects of character, when there are wardrobe malfunctions that are far more pressing. I once owned an electric blue, crushed velvet, Mandarin-collar jacket - it'll take more than a few Hail Marys to shift my guilt over that aberration. 

In the end, the only way any of these programmes can work is if the subject admits that they have a problem. And when put on the spot about their 'problem', I'm happy to speculate that most gays would focus on the five pounds they're struggling to shift, the ex that won't go away, or the 'dubstep' influence on Britney's big comeback. God's love may be deep, but we're perfectly happy wading in the shallows. 

I'll take a detention

Maybe it was just the school I went to, but the idea of having a crush on a teacher would have been about as socially acceptable as declaring myself a 13 year-old necrophiliac. The time-honoured tradition of fantasising about the hot school teacher, who removed her horn-rimmed glasses and slowly shook out her raven locks, always seemed to be about as reality based as a press release about the stability of the Beckhams' marriage.

Nonethless, the aprocryphal stories of student/teacher couplings continue to proliferate, often finding themselves portrayed in teen TV shows and pop songs. Back in 2002, happy-go-rocky boyband Busted launched themselves off the back of a lusty song about a horny teenager and his MILF-alike teacher. And the otherwise sexless Dawson's Creek saw its first season based around the affair between high school underachiever Pacey and his amorous educator.

This is one cultural trope that refuses to stay behind after school and do its lines. So it's interesting to see that parents in Milan have taken a pre-emptive strike against such extra-curricular activities, by withdrawing their kids from a prestigious school because the teacher was just too damn sexy.

She may have three degrees and be a fully-qualified teacher, but it seems that Ileana Tacconelli was inspiring pupils to use their rulers for something other than geometry. Why else would their parents decide to whip their kids out of the otherwise well-respected Catholic school?

To be fair, not all parents have been quite so incensed by the secondary school sexpot's desk-side manner. In particular, fathers of students at San Carlo Catholic High School "have stood by Miss Tacconelli." Presumably close enough to see down her blouse. 

It probably didn't help matters when it emerged that the erotically-charged educator was also a former model, especially when "racy photographs and video footage" popped up online. Maybe you had a teacher that you'd have liked to see in hot-pants and a bra - my brain turns to stone at the very thought of it. 

Nonetheless, all it took was for one disgruntled house-frau to complain to the headteacher that Ileana was "too attractive and a distraction" for the story to hit the front pages of Silvio Berlusconi's newspaper.

Tacconelli responded to the controversy, presumably whilst spilling crumbs of a Cadbury Flake down her gaping top, by saying "All I will say is that if I had wanted to be a model or a showgirl I would have done it when I was younger and prettier. I have been a teacher here for three years and I have never had any problems. There is nothing really to say and I have the backing of the school and the parents." Well quite. I'm sure many of the parents are right behind her - close enough to put another crease in her skirt. 

According to Osvaldo Songini, head of the upper school, "Ileana passed all the very strict requirements to be a teacher here and we are very satisfied." I guess that means she was able to explain the periodic table in a wet t-shirt. 

Sognini also stated "For us here, from don Geranzani down she is an optimum teacher and she has all the qualifications needed. We knew all about her past as she never kept it hidden." Or her lacy bra straps, for that matter. Moral of the story? You shouldn't judge a frayed textbook by its cover. 

What's the scoop?

Megastars are notorious for throwing tantrums when things don't go their way. So it's highly likely that the Pope's closest advisors are currently learning to duck like Naomi Campbell's housekeeper as his Holiness vents his anger at the massive misfire of his forthcoming UK tour.

The whole venture has been one long PR disaster, from the politically charged atmosphere surrounding the abuse cover-ups to the 'embarrassment' caused by the creation of a pamphlet explaining Catholicism in more contemporary lingo.

Now, with the news that thousands of tickets remain unsold for what was promised to be a kneeling-room-only affair, the Catholic Church is having to try and convince the public that "Catholics are looking forward to this visit very much indeed". It's a good job, since the rest of the population seems decidedly non-plussed about the least anticipated tour since Cher's decade-long 'farewell'.

In a time of penny-pinching cutbacks, the estimated £12 million cost of the pontiff's visit is harder to swallow than a pillow-sized communion wafer. It's not all bad news though, since a BBC poll found that 70% of British Catholics believe that the Pope's visit will "help the Catholic Church in the UK".

One person who's delighted about the impending arrival of everyone's favourite one-time Nazi is ice cream maker Antonio Federici. His company's new ad campaign is notching up some major news coverage on account of its controversial depiction of lustfulness inside the church.

With its heavily eroticised imagery of pregnant nuns and interracial gay priests, the campaign has clearly been designed to get people hot under the dog-collar. And although the Advertising Standards Authority has demanded that the 'immaculately conceived' ad be discontinued, Federici plans to replace it with a similarly provocative image that would be "a continuation of the theme".

The press attention generated by the campaign must far outweigh the impact of whatever media spend has been invested so far, and media observers are now on the edge of their pew waiting to see what image will appear on poster sites around Westminster Abbey. Just don't be too surprised if it's a choir boy being offered a Rocky Road by his Father Confessor.

Know thine enemies

It looks like the Vatican is going to need to do a little more than issue a glowing review of the new Harry Potter movie or compile a list of the best rock albums of the last 50 years, if it wants to remain popular.

Pope Benedict XVI is currently under fire for his dubious role in blocking the defrocking of a US priest accused of molesting children in his care. According to a 1985 letter that Benedict signed when he was still Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, the Vatican advised the bishop overseeing the case "to consider the Universal Church" before deciding to sack Father Stephen Kiesle.

Outspoken opponents of organised religion, Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens, are currently investigating the possibility of a legal ambush when the Pope arrives in the UK in September. Their plan is to charge the paedophile-protecting Pontiff with 'crimes against humanity' for his part, and are consulting with lawyers about initiating criminal proceedings.

As two of Britain's most recognisable atheists, Dawkins and Hitchens have their fair share of critics too. But they're not the only controversial figures gunning for the guy in the big hat.

An unusual cartoon character was recently stenciled onto a billboard in Malta announcing the Pope's imminent arrival on the island, with the local press assuming it was some kind of panda. However, eagle-eyed websperts were quick to point out that the illustrated figure was actually Pedobear.

This dodgy little ursine icon is used as visual shorthand for "You're being creepy about children" when users on imageboard websites like 4chan start to show a preference for underage imagery. Although no-one knows who originally designed the anthropomorphic kiddie-diddler, he's turned into something of an internet legend.

Since his first appearance, Pedobear has popped up on YouTube, and even been misinterpreted by Polish news sources as one of the Vancouver Winter Olympics' official mascots. Online jokers also campaigned for Pedobear in a recent competition to find pop jailbait Miley Cyrus' number one fan - winning with over 15,000 votes.

Dawkins and Hitchens are certainly well-intentioned in their legal battle to keep the spotlight firmly trained on the church's systematic abuse of children in its care. But since they're known primarily for their religion-rattling viewpoints, it will be easy for defenders of the faith to argue that they're simply drumming up publicity for the atheist cause.

Could it be that a crudely drawn cartoon bear might ultimately offer a more impactful critique on the Catholicism's abuses than two of our biggest brains?

Curb your indignation

As one of the co-creators and head writers on Seinfeld, Larry David made the character of George Costanza, brought to life by Jason Alexander, a cariacature of his own social ineptitude. But when Seinfeld ended there were clearly sides of Larry's personality which still needed the chance to air themselves. And so 'Curb Your Enthusiasm' was born, in which Larry plays an exaggerated version of himself, attempting to get through life as a multi-millionaire malcontent.

According to the way he portrays his own neuroses, it would seem that Larry's main goal in life is to offend and annoy everyone he meets. Now it seems that his tactless insensitivities have crossed over into real life, as the latest episode of the long-running, largely improvised comedy, have caused a whole new level of offence.

In the rather implausible plot of the new episode, Larry was on medication which made him pee with excessive force. As a consequence, his accidental splashback left a rogue droplet on the face of a portrait of Jesus, hanging in his employee's bathroom. She and her mother became convinced that the droplet was a miraculous tear, and felt the need to share their holy artifact with the world.

Unfortunately, the Catholic League of America, not usually known for its sense of humour, was not amused. Bill Donohue, the organisation's president, said in a statement, "Was Larry David always this crude? Would he think it comedic if someone urinated on a picture of his mother? This might be fun to watch, but since HBO only likes to dump on Catholics, and David is Jewish, we'll never know."

Donohue must never have seen the episode where Larry was labeled a 'self-hating Jew' for whistling Wagner, or the time when Larry mistook a contestant from the TV show Survivor as someone who had 'survived' the Holocaust.

It would seem that the target for Larry's humour here, is the fanatical faith of people who insist on seeing meaningful signs in contrivance and coincidence. The people who recognise the face of Jesus in a plate of manicotti, on a stack of pancakes, or on the back of a toilet door in Ikea.

Larry David's skill is to poke fun at the foibles of modern life - from phonecall etiquette and disabled bathrooms, to terrorism paranoia and inappropriate language. It's only fair that, occasionally, religious convictions might enjoy the same level of scrutiny.

It's just a shame that the Catholic church is willing to allow its persecution complex to get in the way of enjoying some of the finest comedy on TV. If they weren't so keen to see themselves as the butt of every joke, they'd realise that this whole story is really just a splash in the pan.