A more heartwarming coda to 2005 could not be imagined than the spate of year-end cable news recaps exploring what they claimed was the most remarkable trend of the past year: female teachers arrested for having sex with underage teen male high- and middle-school students.

Not only deliciously lurid, these tales were also, happily, bereft of the violence and despair that usually prevents Wit Memo from wringing the utmost enjoyment from most cable new fare. 

The most pleasantly surprising aspect of this supposed trend was the teachers. The seductress educators are not, as expected, unappealing misfits who'd abandoned hope of garnering manly attention through normal channels. To the contrary, based on the photos shown on TV, these women are predominantly blond and attractive. In particular, Debra Lafave, the Florida teacher whose no-jail plea bargain was recently rejected by the judge, is, by any reasonable standard, quite hot.

None of the cable hotshots could explain this phenomenon. Their game posturing yielded no credible reasons why sexy young women with no lack of attention from real-world adult males would risk jail time, public humiliation and the end of careers and marriages for a few moments of illicit lust with inexperienced, bumbling adolescents.

Wit Memo has hit upon the only explanation, the one the talking heads missed.

The reason these alluring women behaved in a manner not expected of rational people is that they're not people at all. 

They're angels.

These women are angels sent by God, sent by a just and merciful God as divine rewards for a few very special teen boys who have shown themselves worthy of His favors, for reasons that only God, in the mystery of His infinite wisdom, can understand. No other explanation makes sense.

Skeptical? Don't believe in angels? Neither did we, till we googled "angels are real." Turns out, angels ARE real, and constantly intervene in human events at critical times. According to experts, what do angels do? Of course, they save lives. But they also make dreams come true. And what does a straight teen boy dream about, more than anything else? 'Nuff said!

And don't let anyone tell you that angels can't be luscious, hot-to-trot women, either. Why, not too long ago on TV we saw a bevy of tall knockouts in skimpy underwear parading up and down a runway . . . and they were wearing angel wings! And it's not just in Christianity that angels are sexy. We've all heard that martyrs to Islam, upon arrival in heaven, receive the attention of 70 beautiful female virgins, or, as we call 'em, ji-hotties. We shouldn't expect any different from a religion in which the son of God was known to consort with a consort.

Obviously, this reality is problematic for heathens like Wit Memo, for there can be no God-sent sex bombs if there's no God to send them. And it's this inescapable conclusion, more than the imprecations of a million preachers in their pulpits, more than hectoring of a million missionaries knocking on a million Wit Memo doors, that has caused us to rethink our scepticism. For at a time when some claim to see God's hand in scientific phenomena and election results, it behooves us all to consider carefully those events for which divine intervention is not simply one, but the only, sensible explanation.

For just as a logician can from a drop of water deduce an Atlantic or a Niagra, to quote Sherlock Holmes, so can Wit Memo, from the sight of Debra Lafave's curvy lips and her pulse-quickening bosom busy under her flimsy red sweater, deduce the presence of the Holy, the presence of a Supreme Being who's finally, at long last, proven Himself to be one heck of an intelligent designer.