Since I have repeatedly referred to the Church as the Bride of Christ, one of my readers has suggested that the Bride might do with a little less testosterone. This was obviously the comment of a very modern man. He has no idea of the effect that a hint of testosterone has on a woman's pulse, rhythm and spirit.

Anyway, today, as a special tribute to Catholic manhood, I've linked to the following:

Courage Under Fire
Welcome Back, Duke

Now go back and actually read them!
If you're a man, they may expand your chest with a rare sense of honor. They may even subtly adjust the measure of your stride.

If you're a woman, they will soften your features, curl your smile and return that subtle lost sway to your hips.

I say that this is a tribute to Catholic manhood, because in yet another article Ms Noonan acknowledges the following:

In the early days after the blast, I visited several of the memorials that have sprung up around town, in Union Square and in the heart of Greenwich Village. I was struck, at first, by the all the religious imagery, especially traditionally Catholic imagery--mass cards, pictures of the Sacred Heart, little statues of St. Anthony and St. Francis, pictures of the Virgin of Guadalupe, votive candles, prayers written on envelopes and pieces of paper grabbed from a desk.

Then I realized there was so much because so many of the firemen and policemen who died were Catholic--Italian and Irish and Puerto Rican men from Queens and Staten Island, from Jersey and Brooklyn. It was their families and friends who had brought the mass cards and the statues of St. Anthony, by tradition the patron saint of missing things, in those early days, when they were still hoping that someone they loved would emerge from the ruins.