Democratic Conventional

I understand that you've probably come here to find something that you won't read anywhere else: the news on the Democratic convention. A piece about how awesome the awesome parties really are (very awesome!), and where the who's who of the Democratic and media elite will go to see, be seen, wine, dine, and sixty-nine all over each other. Or maybe something about how this year is the Year of the Blogger, which portends deep structural changes to the very way in which Democratic conventions take place. Maybe an item about how the convention could potentially even have implications for John Kerry.

Unfortunately . . . I just don't care. I guess it's nice that some folks get to fly to Boston just because they run good blogs—I mean, I wouldn't mind a trip to Beantown—but I certainly don't see reason for pause. The convention bloggers are all promising the "inside scoop" on the convention, which sounds to me like "even more boring" coverage than the press is already providing. As far as this year's convention being some sort of milestone, hmm, well, since the only people taking note in the first place are bloggers or media types than this may indeed amount to one historic circle jerk. (I do recognize that complaining about the wankfest means I am a douche apart.)

And what's with Wonkette? Why's she so excited about partying with a set of people who probably haven't seen a weeknight spent drinking since the last convention? It's like the saddest parody ever of Oscar partying, which would be kind of retarded itself were it not for the fact that everyone in Hollywood is at least hot and drug-addled. I mean, headlined by the Red Hot Chili Peppers? Better than most work parties, I guess . . .