John Cornwell's book, "The Dark Box"

Let's talk about John Cornwell's book, "The Dark Box," or as I like to call it, "Confession: The Ultimate Tax Shelter for the Soul!"

Now, Cornwell, bless his heart, has gone spelunking into the catacombs of Catholic guilt, and what he's dredged up is enough to make even the Pope need a stiff drink and a good, long confession. Turns out, this "sacrament" of confession isn't as pristine as the Vatican would have you believe.

He's telling us it started way back when as a kind of neighborhood potluck of sins, everyone airing their dirty laundry in public. Can you imagine? "I stole Farmer McGregor's prize-winning zucchini!" "Well, I coveted my neighbor's ox!" Forget reality TV, that was entertainment! But then, someone got the bright idea to put it all behind closed doors, creating what Cornwell calls the Confessional Box – a device, he argues, more terrifying than the iPhone's privacy settings.

Now here's where it gets juicy! Turns out this "spiritual healing" tool was also a handy-dandy way for the Church to get its fingers into everything. "Tell me your sins, and I'll tell you how to vote... or maybe just how much to donate this week." Cornwell suggests the Power dynamics had a distinct whiff of extortion. A spiritual protection racket!

But hold on, the best – or should I say the worst – is yet to come. Cornwell, with a bravery usually reserved for tightrope-walking nuns, tackles the clerical child abuse scandal. He raises the uncomfortable question: Could this whole culture of secrecy around confession have been the perfect hideout for some very bad apples? He explores how the change of the age of first confession, and the increase of the frequency of confession, created more opportunities for the abuse of children. Makes you wonder if the motto of the confessional should be "Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil... unless it's inconvenient."

Cornwell's got some tough words about the psychological impact, especially on the youngsters. He's suggesting that maybe, just maybe, we should rethink the whole confession thing in the 21st century.

So, go on, folks! Buy the book. Read it with a glass of wine and a healthy dose of skepticism. It's a historical romp through the dark alleys of the soul, a place where, as Cornwell suggests, the only thing more surprising than the sins people commit is the lengths they'll go to hide them. And maybe, just maybe, it'll make you think twice before whispering your deepest, darkest secrets into a wooden box. After all, you never know who's listening on the other side... and what they might be planning to do with the information. Heh heh heh...