Come, I will conceal nothing from you; if I had ever been invited, I would have gone. But I’ve never been invited, and I probably never will be invited, and I suspect that some of the people who get all het up about the White House Correspondents Dinner might be similarly quietly wishing that they could go. And, yeah, I know that it’s vaguely silly to want to go to this thing. But, what the heck: if I can’t use this site to every so often admit to something vaguely silly, why do I have this site in the first place?
Now that I’ve established that, let me finish up by saying: no, it’s not #nerdprom. Most of those people aren’t nerds. And I don’t mean that as a compliment*.
*I don’t mean it as an insult. Just as a statement of fact about an unfortunate lack of a particular quality.
Don’t get me wrong: the Federalist is right to utter castigate our journalist-courtiers for going to the White House Correspondents Dinner and pretending that they’re some sort of outsider group*. But there’s this part:
Prom for nerds is a horrorshow of fixating upon a young lady whom one wishes one was taking to prom, and then never summoning the courage to ask her, because one has never actually spoken with her, ever. And those are the lucky ones: the truly unfortunate do blurt out a request, are shocked to receive an answer in the affirmative, and then endure a tortured evening of sundered togetherness. She wants to dance, he wants to talk about the X-Men: she gets her way with others, he gets his alone.
Actual nerd proms are sad and pitiable affairs, a million splinters of lonely, frustrated, and dejected young hearts who spend the best evening of their teen years screaming Kraftwerk lyrics through hot tears as they drive home, alone, tuxedos not even slightly mussed, virtue not even vaguely disturbed, consumed with loathing and regret at knowing they know not what they’ve missed.
Maybe freshman year at Hampshire will be better, they tell themselves. Maybe I’ll start an election projection website.
…would I have the same mild eye-rolling disapproval for it if RedState got a table at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner every year? Theoretically, it would be simply enough for my primary site to get press pool credentials and attend, except of course that we’ve found that we don’t really need what the Obama administration laughably chooses to call ‘access’ to go about our daily business. Then again, the WHCD isn’t really about the White House press corps, at this point.
Alas, doesn’t quite scan: still, Buzzfeed asked… oh, let Fishbowl DC tell the story:
Last night just before the clock struck midnight, BuzzFeed had an important flash of thought — why not ask José Canseco, a former Major League Baseball outfielder who partakes in some of the funniest online meltdowns, to the White House Correspondents’ Dinner? Not to be forgotten was this R.I.P. love note to the very much alive Al Gore: “al gore was a head of his time .i miss him rest in peace buddy hug for u”
…here is an immodest proposal for [Fox News’ Ed] Henry and other members offended by the administration’s treatment: Boycott the annual dinner. It is the most (and only) high-profile night of the year for the WHCA, so the gesture would undoubtedly get attention.
Not that I’m bitter about the fact that I never get an invite to these things anyway. Actually, no, I really am not bitter. I’m a propagandist, ideologue, and polemicist… well, yes, so is the average member of the DC Press corps, but I also cop to it in public, which is a distinct no-no. So, no invite for me…
Obama’s writers may have thought their quip about the Jonas Brothers during White House Correspondents’ Association dinner was a nod to the boy band and their star power, but the brothers saw it as a jab.
Nick and Joe Jonas were spotted sulking in the corner at the Bloomberg/Vanity Fair after-party when Yeas & Nays asked what they thought of the joke.