One of the oldest stereotypes around is that the Irish don’t like sex. I don’t know how true that is — I’ve known some Irish-Americans who are straight-laced and prudish, but also others who are really in touch with the earthiest imaginable parts of their sexuality, and still others who are both, depending on the time of day or other factors — but I have rarely seen the stereotype discussed as hilariously as it is by our friend John Zmirak in a new article over at Inside Catholic:

I can’t speak for everyone with an Irish-American mom — not that they’re used to getting a word in edgewise — but I really did grow up thinking that sexual sins weren’t merely the worst forms of evil but, aside from foul language, the only ones. I’ll never forget my mother sitting with her box of Entenmann’s, happily munching away to a video of A Nightmare on Elm Street 4 as some psychopath opened a teenager’s head with a coroner’s saw. When the dying teenager spluttered the F-bomb, mom sighed and wondered aloud, “Now why’d they have to ruin a perfectly nice movie with that kind of filth?” This incident made me wonder how many IRA terrorists walked away from their bombs with clear consciences — then trooped off to confession for impure thoughts.

The rest of the article is interesting; I am more sympathetic to theological praise of sex than John is, but he is thought-provoking and, as usual, great fun to read.