Among local journalists, no one had the blogosphere reaching for their sarcasm tags like the Washington Post's Laura Sessions Stepp. You may remember the apex of her collected letters from last May, when the Style Section editor condemned numerous column inches to death by publishing her infamous "wingman" article. The article, deemed by Rusty at Why.I.Hate.DC to be "The Most Asinine Article" ever, casts Stepp as an odd amalgam of The Glass Menagerie's Amanda Wingfield and Heinlein's Valentine Michael Smith--a sort of hyper-prudish, endlessly fascinated alien being struggling to grok Earthly mating practices that the rest of us pinks figured out two decades ago. A brief perusal of her past works confirms her presence on our planet since at least 1999.

One might wonder, after reading the "Wingman" article, "What, pray tell is Stepp going to do to occupy her time between now and her forthcoming pieces?"--such as her 2008 article on Rohypnol, her 2012 article on "toothing", and the Pulitzer-ready 2015 series: "MySpace May Be Awash in Pedophiles: Can Anything Be Done?" The answer: she's writing a book.

Sweet sassy molassey, she's writing a BOOK.

And it's Christmas-come-early for the proprietor of the blog Tiny Movements, for she apparently has in her possession an advance proof of said book. She relates that Stepp's upcoming tome delves "deep into the latest of cultural trends: the hook-up." And, if want to know her first impression of Stepp's work, look no further than the title of her post: "Comedic Goldmine."

A brief selection from the book is included. Read on, and, as you watch the HMS Duh! collide with the tip of the World's Most Prosaic Iceberg, listen very closely and you'll hear the world's tiniest band playing "Nearer My God To Thee."

The most important thing to remember in all of this is that hooking up, in the minds of this generation, carries no commitment. Partners hook up with the understanding that however far they go sexually, neither should become romantically involved in a serious way. Hooking up's defining characteristic is the ability to unhook from a partner at any time, just as they might delete an old song on their iPod or an out-of-date "away" message on their computer. Maybe they tire of their partner, or find someone who is "hotter" or, for some other reason, more to their liking.

Abandon ship! Women and children first! "Hooking up...carries no commitment" you say? Wow. Who knew? Hey, Hooking Up, you just got nailed!

There's so much to love in this one half paragraph: the goggle-eyed wonder at finding out there are people who enjoy commitment-free sex, the way she ingeniously describes how something previously "hooked" can be "unhooked", the implication that she hasn't yet realized an iPod can hold more than one song, and the screamingly strange deployment of quotation marks--is she attributing the term "hotter" to another party or is she uncertain that varying degrees of hotness exist? Who can say?

Color us totally envious that Tiny Movements has procured this wondrous literary gem, and her promise of further dish tantalizes us to no end. Frankly, it's so trying our patience that we have to ask: if we promise to bring milkshakes and pie, can we please, please, please come over?