Some people savor literature; others, fine wine. I prefer to relish the really exceptional sex scandals of our time.
Right now, obviously, that's the Tiger Woods inferno. Its dimensions keep expanding, from a bizarre home dispute to a single infidelity, to serial adultery, to Tiger's seeming to have slept with every club hostess along the pro tour. The laundry list of women claiming dalliances is now so large that it obscures the importance of two early revelations: a panicked voice mail and cheesy "sexts" Woods sent one of his alleged paramours. Bear with me here—there is a reason you're reading this on a technology blog—because I think those digital communications are the clearest sign yet that we're entering a golden age of sex scandals, one with far juicier details, because they come straight from the smart phones of those directly involved.
Don't get me wrong: we already had it pretty good. Eliot Spitzer and Ashley Dupré; John Edwards and Rielle Hunter; and, of course, the greatest affair of our time, Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky. Affairs for the ages, all. But the sordid details of those scandals—the blue dress, the calf-length dress socks—came only after costly and drawn-out investigations by the government and/or the news media. The best nuggets were pried loose mainly by subpoena and deposition.
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