Okay, like David Letterman, you’ve cheated; now, the choice: lie, or confess? Letterman’s confession, as much as he’s been applauded for it–and as much as it helped his ratings–was coerced, like so many celebrity and political confessions. These people really should know better. But, as St. Augustine said, the greatest part of virtue lies in avoiding the opportunity for vice, and you know it’s hard to avoid getting laid if you’re David Letterman or Bill Clinton. For George Bush, let’s face it, temptation was probably not a day-to-day problem. And Barack is lucky that Michelle has a vigilant eye.

Does it matter that a confession is coerced? Our intuition is to say that it’s less sincere, and therefore less meaningful: if you are forced to confess, it lacks the moral punch of a free confession. (”You wouldn’t have told me, you wouldn’t have confessed to us, if you didn’t have to.”)…

So now I’m on Lexapro. Starting last evening, 10/15/2009, when I swung by the CVS on my way home. For the past nine months I have been recovering from alcoholism—as I mentioned in an earlier column, I have not taken a drink since January 1st—and it is getting easier. But here’s the problem.

How do we fall in love? There are countless times during the course of the day when someone catches your eye.