We're not gonna protest!

These are troubled times we live in. From Joe Wilson to Kanye West and to those delightful tea-baggers, our nation has been enthralled lately with the power of loud mouth morons to get their voices heard. Now in a simpler time, say, 2008, the idea that anyone would want to watch Glenn Beck or that people would spend all summer screaming at their congress person about socialist conspiracies seemed unimaginable; but I can tell you that there is one city in this country where standing on the street corner and declaring your mental problems is considered a sacred act of patriotism.

You see, every American has the right to petition their government for a readdressing of grievances (that is from the bill of rights, a historical footnote between 2001-2008 but a damn riveting read), and many of them, especially those who like a good graphic photo of a dismembered fetus, love to come to the District of Columbia and make their voices heard. This may sound irritating/nauseating, and it definitely is. However, these crazy protests also make D.C pretty darn cool to be in!

Two weeks ago I attended one such gathering of the clinically ignorant called the “9/12 Taxpayers March On Washington”. Apparently, white people of a certain age and waist line don’t like paying taxes to a President who doesn’t look like them, and they came to the capitol to make their voices heard! These people showed up with wonderfully camp signs saying things like “Bury ObamaCare with Ted Kennedy” and “There is a Muslim-Communist conspiracy in the White House” (hold on to those placards grandma and grandpa! They are gonna make hilariously retro souvenirs for your grandchildren some day), and while these protesters were the most numerous, they couldn't top their political allies and DC's most popular protest group: Christian zealots. They showed up to this event driving a van that had pictures of 9/11, an American flag, Terri Schaivo, and, yup, you guessed it, a dismembered fetus! What fun for the children.

Now you liberal pinkos out there may find these kind of protests nauseating, but to be fair, DC is also over run with protests from the other side of the political divide, with such popular themes as “A bunch of Jews get together to yell about Iran”, “Gays run the wedding design business, why not let them marry?” and of course “Old hippies put on their finest floppy hats, sandals and cargo pants and protest about something on a Wednesday afternoon when everyone who isn’t a community college professor or a wealthy yoga instructor is at work”. The beautiful reality is that everyone, no matter their political views, can walk down the streets of Washington and find at least one group of fucktards who publically express the extreme political views we all have but are bound by polite society and reason not to openly discuss.

So, Are these protests smart? Almost never. Do they accomplish something? Unless you sell advertising time on Fox News, no. But America’s founding principle, the idea that if anything in your life is wrong you have the right, nay, the duty, to make offensive signs and stand on street corners yelling stuff until you end up on the evening News, is clearly alive and well in this city, and that I think is pretty cool.

Is DC Luggage Cool?

What the fuck is with all the luggage people tote around in this city?

Okay, I know DC has this reputation for being a city where everyone is a temporary resident, but come on! For the freshly arrived, it can be shocking to see so many people wheeling suitcases behind them. Seriously Ellis Island didn’t have this much baggage; a fat girl whose bulimia just isn’t working don’t even have this much baggage.

It’s not typical baggage either: normally, people don’t like moving around suitcases all day. In normal cities, people have luggage on public transportation to airports and train stations, and some suit cases have those baggage stickers they put on at the airport, but not in DC. Here luggage abounds on street corners far from the nearest metro stop, because, apparently everyone needs to bring a week’s worth of clothing to work in case, I don’t know, they get so drunk at happy hour they puke on their new Vineyard Vines tie. Or perhaps the bags are filled with the many business cards people hand out here like acid at a Phish concert. Or maybe, just maybe, because D.C can inspire patriotic feelings in all of us, this bizarre amount of luggage is filled with the hopes and dreams of America! Or at least it was when Bush was in office; now it’s probably socialist propaganda and illegal immigrants.

The weirdest thing about it too is that no one looks good with those wheelie suit cases. Sure they make transporting stuff easier, but they are kind of embarrassing. When have you ever looked at someone in the airport and gone “Wow, look at that rough stallion of a man. The fact that it looks like he’s medically unable to carry normal luggage makes him too masculine and irresistible for words.” Back in my day (circa 2004), it was clear that the kids at school with wheelie suit cases had overbearing Jewish mother who fretted they’d hurt their back, and analysts who decided since that these kids already are developing sexual problems a la Portnoy’s Complaint, why not tote around a Samsonite chastity belt while you’re at it?

So DC, I say no. Bad DC! Bad! Weirdly high amounts of luggage on the street IS NOT COOL.

The Cool Formula

As we live in a post-Enlightenment world (Pop, Locke and Drop it!), I feel that it’s important to address the fundamental question of D.C’s coolness with a sober, scientific mind. Unfortunately, D.C is a boozy town, so this whole sobriety thing just isn’t going to happen. That said I believe that I have come up with a decent scientific formula to determine whether or not a city can be generally deemed “cool” or “loserville”.

         My formula is derived from my love the Travel section of the New York Times. As it comes out every Sunday, the Travel section is the perfect thing to nurse a hangover with (“Wow, these photos of mod Swedish hotel rooms are a perfect escape from the clothing, empty liquor bottles and dead strippers that litter my floor!”). The section’s single best feature is the series called “36 hours”, in which writers pick a city anywhere in the world and tell you such goodies as where the best organic muffins, post-soviet flea market, and poshest cemeteries are.

         The thing about the 36 hours is that it’s not an unbiased institution: at least once a month they pick boring American cities, mostly because it will send all the Jews, Divorced women, and Homosexuals (the New York Times main demographics) who live there into an email frenzy and help the Grey Lady’s financial bottom line. For instance, in the recent 36 hours: Cincinnati, the article starts off by saying “With the quiet momentum of a work in progress, Cincinnati is finding an artsy swagger”. Now let’s look at a 36 hours for a city that, unlike Cincinnati, we all accept as cool: London. That article begins with “There are many different Londons, and they appeal to people with many different passions: museum lovers, theatergoers, opera buffs, devotees of royalty, students of history, people who like to walk in the rain.”

         The critical difference between 36 hours: Cincinnati and 36 hours: London is that while the Cincinnati article starts by trying to prove to its readers that Cincinnati is cool, the London article already assumes that the readers know London has a lot of things to do and it therefore cool. As anyone in the highly dysfunctional world of Public Relations will tell you, London has clearly done a better job branding itself than Cincinnati, unless of course you’re a devotee to 21^st century race riots and the works of hometown hero Nick Lachey. Thus my formula is as follows: Coolness=Generally held assumption of coolness. If a city is truly cool, then it needs no explanation as to its coolness.

         The question now is, how does 36 hours: Washington D.C begin? The Times writes, “Washington, in many ways, is an unsurprising place to visit — an expanse of monuments, symbols and sites familiar to any American who watches the evening news (or, at least, "West Wing"). Which is not to say that Washington can't be, with a little effort, a city of surprises and unfamiliar delights.” So, while it is assumed that the audience knows there’s a lot to do in DC (indicating it’s at least interesting/cool enough to visit), it’s also assumed that the audience doesn’t know D.C is more than a government town. Essentially, D.C breaks my formula and flouts the logic and reason of the Enlightenment.

         With those maddening parameters set, I now feel that I can blog away.

A message from Pierre Charles De L'Enfant

Chers amis,

Bonjour. Today I speak to you from beyond the grave.

Haunted by a Frenchman? What a rich, bold, vanilla scented pleasure for you. As you know, we Frenchmen love a good existential question, and not even the sweet embrace of la morte could keep this Gaul from, like so many of his national brethren before him, telling you exactly what he thinks no matter how much you don't want to hear it.

As you know, I presented my original city of Washington in the District of Columbia to George Washington on August 19th, 1791. 218 years, 42 Presidents (over 2% of whom were NOT wealthy white christian males!) and one crack smoking mayor later, I have decided to readdress my master work.

On this blog, I intend to undertake a year long study of the district's culture, physical structure and social behavior to determine the northeast corridor's most vexing question: IS WASHINGTON DC COOL?

My intern, Benjamin Grinspan (wooo another unpaid internship notch on his bed post of shame) will be assisting me in worldly, vivant matters. Oui, this project may kill me, but hey, I'm already dead, and if the unbelievably long acting career of Gerard Depardieu proves anything: the French never know when to quit.

Vive le blog!