There’s a kind of idiocy about the way the White House Correspondents Dinner is, conceptually, a Feast of Fools with a comedian as Lord of Misrule, a night when decorum is suspended, comedy rules, etc.
And then D.C. never goes all-in. The crowd doesn’t laugh, and then there’s this post-mortem in which interested parties pull organs out of the comedy set and weigh them on political scales and try to make something out of them. The whole city should sign a disarmament pact or just stop doing this thing.
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