In just a few minutes on Google I found two “Facebook killers” (here and here), a “Facebook shooting,” a “MySpace murder trial” and a “Twitter murder.” Then, of course, there is the “Craigslist Killer.”

Now, it’s Match.com’s turn to be associated with a crime.

The dating site will now screen its members against the National Sex Offender Registry. This is after a California woman, Carole Markin, alleges she was sexually assaulted by a man she met on the dating site. Here are some of the facts of the case from CNN/HLN:

Markin claims she met a man named Alan Wurtzel, who according to the lawsuit has a record of “six separate convictions for sexual battery” in Los Angeles County alone.

She told HLN that Wurtzel forced her to perform sexual acts on him, at her residence, while they were on their second date.

Markin said afterward, “I looked up his name (on the computer) and I saw that he had a bad past.”

An attorney for Wurtzel, in a statement sent to HLN, said her client and Markin engaged in consensual, romantic contact together and then, “Eight days later she inexplicably called police.”

The civil class action lawsuit against Match says the dating site failed, “to undertake a basic screening process that disqualifies from membership anyone who has a documented history of sexual assault.”

First, let me say that this woman is not to be blamed at all for what allegedly happened. Her attacker is to blame.

But I don’t think Match is to blame either.

In an interview on “Good Morning America,” titled “Match.com Assault Victim Speaks Out,” Markin said, “I just didn’t expect that there would be somebody with a criminal background on the service… When you’ve met nice successful men previously on the same site, you just don’t assume the worst.”

A stranger is a stranger no matter where you meet them. And you can’t blame the website or bar or library where you meet someone if they say one thing, but turn out to be something else.

I was on Match for six months before I met my wife Holly there. It was a good experience, but as I perused profiles, I knew I couldn’t completely know a prospective date from what I learned about them on Match. As much “winking,” emailing or talking on the phone transpired, those first dates were blind dates in many ways. I was still meeting a stranger.

What’s bothering me about this story is that it portrays the Internet as a uniquely scary place. It’s the implication that this alleged crime happened because of its connection to an Internet dating site.

Match.com president Mandy Ginsberg said “Match.com is a fantastic service, having changed the lives of millions of people through the relationships and marriages it has given rise to, but people have to exercise common sense and prudence with people they have just met, whether through an online dating service or any other means [emphasis added].” Exactly.

I once read somewhere that the Internet is like life. Many good things happen every day, but bad things can happen too. Steps can be taken to reduce the risk of some of those bad things from happening, but the Internet itself isn’t to blame.

The Internet is still relatively new and it’s human nature for someone to fear what they don’t know. The news media uses well-known companies and crime to create headlines that try to exploit that fear for ratings or (ironically) pageviews. These crimes are actually about the people who allegedly committed them and their victims. The crimes themselves shouldn’t be an indictment of the way in which they met.

Representative Chris Lee (R-N.Y.) resigned from the House of Representatives this week following an email flirtation with a woman he met after responding to an ad in the “Women Seeking Men” section of Craigslist. Sadly for him, the woman also knows how to use Google to look up people’s names, and how to send emails to Gawker.

See the Gawker reporter who broke the story.

And while it’s remarkable what 24 hours can do to damage the life of a politician with high libido, low impulse control and a camera phone, I want to – instead – look at one particular sentence that the Washington Post wrote in their article covering the incident:

“The familiar cycles of a Washington sex scandal were compressed into a blur of tweets and news alerts.”

This sentence is remarkable to me in so many ways.  Take the first part: “The familiar cycles of a Washington sex scandal…” Can you feel the fatigue in that sentence? The implied “here we go again” sigh? The list of scandals pepper the headlines of the past: The obvious Clinton-Lewinsky saga, Newt Gingrich’s affair with aide Callista Bisek, Elliot Spitzer’s foray into, well, whatever it was. And just recently, new allegations about Speaker John Boehner having multiple affairs (reported by The Enquirer, but possibly coming closer to being printed in a more reputable news source soon.)

But even the San Francisco Chronicle’s online version of Lee’s recent misbehaviors asks of the many scandals, “Is anyone keeping count?”  The answer is, yes. We are. The same way we keep track of celebs who are dragged to rehab time after time. There’s an equal mixture of distain and train-wreck-curiosity that simultaneously makes us want more juicy details (Are there more photos? More women?) while also claiming we’re above it all.

Let’s also take the second part of the Post’s sentence: “…compressed into a blur of tweets and news alerts.” Within hours, the man’s dalliances were posted on thousands of websites, and tweeted relentlessly (not without some humor, mind you: “cellphone camera is the worst thing to happen to men with bad impulse control”). The story broke at noon, and by 3pm, he had resigned. That is astounding to me. Pre-Internet news, this would have taken weeks to formulate and resolve itself. Now, a man’s career is over in 3 hours (barring any further revelations, which I have an inkling might be lurking somewhere in Rep. Lee’s email box.)

So, as another politician’s sex scandal flashes through the headlines, this time it’s not the weeks-long-affair (no pun intended) of news days gone by. Within hours, it’s published, denied and verified. Capitulations are made, leading to the astoundingly rapid resignation of a rising politician. The news cycle gets faster and faster, thanks to emailed photos, online news distribution, fast-forward Twittering, email tracking, Google, and Gawker. This was the 3-hour flash scandal. Do I hear 3 minutes?

Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t over.  The former Rep. Lee will definitely write a book, possibly get a divorce, and may even be offered a talk show on a cable news network depending on his level of charisma. He may even make his lie come true and become – as he stated in his emails – a lobbyist.

Then again, maybe it’s better if he just disappears. The statement on his website,“I have made profound mistakes,” leaves me – and undoubtedly a thousand tabloid reporters – asking one question: Why is the word “mistakes” plural?

You can follow Beth on her blog and on Twitter.