Skipping Towards Gomorrah: The Seven Deadly Sins and The Pursuit of Happiness in America Dan Savage Dutton, $23.95 hardcover When exactly did the publishing industry start its mullah-of-the-month club? It seems that as fast as Joyce Carol Oates can crank out a novel, readers are treated to yet another tome from conservative scolds like Pat Buchanan, William Bennett and the reigning witch, er, queen of the Times bestseller list: Annie Longlegs Coulter. According to our scribbling virtuecrats, America's demise is the result of the twin scourges of multiculturalism and secular humanism perpetrated by the usual lineup of feminists, gays and Alec Baldwin. So who will defend the sinners? Enter sex columnist Dan Savage, a gay man who, you may recall, licked his way into the national spotlight after infiltrating Gary Bauer's 2000 presidential primary campaign. Savage calls Skipping his "Bork-Bennett-bitch slap." Armed with his publisher's money, he sets out to commit all seven deadly sins. He gambles in Dubuque (greed); fires away with gun-huggers in Texas (anger); attends a fat-acceptance convention in San Francisco (gluttony); drops 10 pounds at a $10,000-a-week spa-cum-boot camp in Los Angeles (envy), attends gay pride in the same city (pride), and hires some whores in the Big Apple (lust). Skipping ebbs and flows by chapter: Savage's gambling jaunt is a snooze compared with his infiltration of a fat-acceptance convention-where he is initially mistaken by rapacious female attendees as an FA or "fat admirer." Equally fascinating is his trip to New York in the wake of Sept. 11 where, in the name of patriotic consumerism, he hires a $1,500 call girl. When she mentions that her boyfriend is in "the business"-catering to gay voyeurs-he manages to find and hire him the very next night. Such are the responsibilities of an intrepid journalist. An impressive arbiter of serious ideas, Savage's main sin in Skipping is redundancy. His libertarian defense of those engaging in victimless vice is undoubtedly important, but it is so thoroughly established in his delightful introduction that it quickly becomes a dead horse. While he makes a case that a sinning people can remain virtuous in their pursuits of happiness, Savage fails to probe the national propensity for admonishment. No one is forced to listen to Bill O'Reilly or read Buchanan, or Coulter, and yet their books sell by the truckload. Like it or not, a tolerance for self-righteousness has long been part of the national character. Fortunately, it's something from which Mr. Savage remains quite immune. -John Dicker