Movable Snipe: Compulsively Readable for D.C.
Spencer, Ironically, I really never paid much attention to Wonkette until I left the Washington area and moved to New York. I guess it was growing up in the D.C. private school system, surrounded by the children of ambitious senators … Read More
Ironically, I really never paid much attention to Wonkette until I left the Washington area and moved to New York. I guess it was growing up in the D.C. private school system, surrounded by the children of ambitious senators and disgraced bureaucrats that led to my deliberate incognizance when it comes to politics, sort of like all those Spence and Dalton kids who sit at Pastis talking about how they’re “so over” money. D.C., like Brooklyn to some upwardly-mobile financiers and campy filmmakers, was a place you got away from so you could discover where all the interesting people were hiding.
Then the Washingtonienne posts began, and I started reading. Not for the scandal details – blah blah, crusty old men on the Hill like willing young women. I’d heard worse from friends who worked as pages in high school (as subsequent scandals have since proven). No, the fascinating part was the relationship developing between the two women, one a talented and ambitious writer who realized that anal sex jokes were, for better or worse, a surefire way to hook male readers in a traditionally stale and priggish demographic, the other a street-smart intern who understood the fundamental rules of being a cute girl in a city full of repressed, ego-driven men. What started as an “outing” and its subsequent traffic explosion evolved into a sort of oviparous symbiosis, with Cox’s constant posts about Cutler’s unrepentant behavior reflecting a disdainful envy. Then both women took their newfound celebrity, cashed in their chips and moved on to bigger and better things. It was almost beautiful, in a twisted, cockeyed way.
While I haven’t met Pareene, I paid close attention when he and David Lat took over (Disclosure: I know and respect Lat and have agreed to write for his current project). This new tag team – the witty lawyer with the 24-carat resume and the precocious 21-year-old college dropout – made for an excellent read, and I’ll admit I wondered whether the kid could keep it together as a solo artist. But if this election was any sort of performance barometer, I’d say he kept the pressure high with a sharp knowledge of the city’s dynamic (not quite an oxymoron, I’ll finally admit) plus an ability to churn out droll ledes and funny comments under the notorious Denton deadline (twenty-four posts in ten hours – I’d be injecting meth into my tongue after two days of that). And Spencer, just in case you missed this one, Happy Black Friday. Now get thee to the mall!