New York Times, I apologize

I made fun of you over your story on The New Victorians. I suggested, on my own blog and in the Althouse comments, that this supposed trend, which appeared laughably false on its face, was just the latest example of a reporter from your renowned newspaper making up a story (I mean, a "tale") based on an inspired concoction of overheard anecdotes, shoddy analysis, and completely unrepresentative close personal acquaintances. However, I must now eat my words. I can be a big man, and I will admit when I'm wrong. You see, a reporter from Washington City Paper did something your reporter did not do - that is, engage in actual reporting. This devoted young journalist may not work for the Times, or for a newspaper of any prominence at all for that matter, but she would not be dissuaded. "I may not write for The Paper of Record," she surely thought, "I may not Print all the News that's Fit to Print, and I sure as blazes ain't no Grey Lady, but, gosh almighty, I will do whatever I have to do to get this story - and if that means actually talking to and spending time with my subjects, then so be it! Even if - yes, even if - they aren't my old college pals! Indeed, I will dare to throw all caution to the wind and even try to read their private correspondence!" She did all this, and more, knowing that it was all in vain, knowing that her story would never, could never, make it onto the most-emailed list at the Times.

Yet, and this is why I must apologize, her conclusions are the same. Go, read them for yourselves. See the New Victorians at work and at play. Bask in the candlelit glow of their refined dinner soirees, pinch the cheeks of their happily spoiled offspring, feed gourmet treats to their lovingly groomed french poodles, gasp at the rebellion against their free-loving elders. Demeaning sex-crazed lives lived in an alcoholic haze? The stuff of legend and Tom Wolfe novels! No, these young adults are too busy being upwardly mobile, too focused on playing catch with their sons, to even momentarily contemplate casual sexual encounters. Go forth, New York Times, and cast your eyes upon the new generation. Behold: The New Victorians!

Oh, wait.

(major profanity warning at that link, btw)

h/t to my dear friend Meghan over at Modestly Yours.