The Redskins-Cowboys game was the biggest thing. A policeman described it to me: Everybody got four hours off. Crooks didn’t crook, nobody got shot, nobody burglarized anything. It would be bad form to hold someone up during the Redskins-Cowboys game, so the cops got four hours off. Everybody got a break. It brought the city together, sure.
Jeff George Starke, former Redskins offensive lineman, in Dan Steinberg and Chris L. Jenkins, “Black fans have grown to love the Redskins,” Washington Post, October 27, 2011
This is actually a really interesting article.
UPDATE: Corrected the player’s name because apparently I can’t read. Thanks, Andrew, for the correction.
[In the Loop
is] everything you want in a Washington film: status anxiety, ignorance masquerading as expertise, bureaucratic machinations masquerading as virtue, lots of acronyms.
I have been in Washington, DC, for the past few weeks finishing a film. Someone once described Washington as ‘Hollywood for Ugly People’ and there is a sense as you stroll around the city that this is a one-industry town, filled with gawky-looking individuals hellbent on writing policy papers and amending anything that moves. Streets are laid out in a grid system, with numbers and single capital letters for names; it’s the only place where people’s addresses sound like chess moves. (‘I’ll meet you at the corner of H and 22nd.’ ‘OK, then I’ll see you tonight at Tetrahedron 5 on the corner of Z and Pi.’ ‘We’re having a party five inches from 9, which means I can take your bishop.’)
The government buildings are impressive from the outside, but inside little is spent on ornamentation. Long, wide, white corridors, intermittently dotted with American flags, lead off into the distance. This is a city designed for meetings. It’s a low, purposeful place. And its purpose is politics. Everywhere you go there are politicians, aides to politicians, monuments to politicians and hotels putting up politicians and their hookers. It’s like a constant festival of politics. It’s Glastonbury in suits. At night, all the young staffers and policy wonks go and get blitzed at bars filled with journalists and bloggers and gossip about whose politics didn’t work that day.
The evening is a result of the fact, feature or bug, that our nation’s capital is located well outside our nation’s media, entertainment and financial capitals, forcing those who call the political capital home and consider themselves terribly important to prove their importance by tricking actual famous and important people into attending a party much lamer than a random Wednesday night back where they live.
Alex Pareene, “No one gets lucky at Washington’s prom,” Salon, April 30, 2012
This year, the president delivered some funny jokes about how he once ate a dog. He killed. (Do other democracies do this? I’m honestly asking. Does Australia’s PM have to deliver a stand-up routine to a frigid crowd of media executives and Australian soap opera stars once a year?)
Astonishingly, Alex, other countries are also host to the absurd shenanigans of the political class. American exceptionalism apparently extends to a conviction that America is exceptionally awful!
Australian reporters have the Press Gallery’s Midwinter Ball. The media here frequently compares that event to the WHCD. Political media everywhere is vain and self-important.
[I]t’s easier to question someone’s motives by accusing them of tribal bias than it is to question their judgment, which treats them as the human beings they are.
Marc Ambinder, “Ten Things I Learned During a Decade in D.C.,” GQ, May 15, 2012
Also contains this fun joke:
After eleven years living in Washington, D.C., part of me is just sick of this swamp. The superficial commentary, the power-driven egoists, the fake smiles, the obsession with image. That’s why I’m moving to Los Angeles.
Once Washington was a happy place where a girl and her mother could be groped simultaneously in good fun by a white supremacist. Sadly, it has all been ruined by Kim Kardashian and Ezra Klein.