Are YOU a Washingtonian?

So the Washington Post is running a 300-word essay contest called “What Does It Mean to Be a Washingtonian?” It goes like this:

“We hope you will put your finger on the essential qualities and characteristics that define this region, from a ward in D.C. to a farm in Loudoun, and everywhere else in the area. We're not looking for simple descriptions of your neighborhood, for Christ’s sake shut up about your community garden already, but rather what you might say to someone who isn't from here about what living in the nation's capital means.”

Here’s the irony: Answer the way the Washington Post would like (all prim and proper) and you could win $100. *disco*

But answer the way YOU KNOW YOU SHOULD and you’ll get jack. At best they'll post your essay online with the other entries. And that just means some dickhead from a blog like “I Grow a Chub for DC,” cluttered with pics of row houses and urban scenery, will read it and respond with a post about how it’s absolutely inconceivable that anyone could hate Washington, D.C. (By the way, for bloggers who think themselves clever by asking why would someone who hates DC choose to stay and blog about it? I’ll deal with you retards another day).

Entries aren’t due until December 31st, so in the meantime The Post's website is featuring sample essays. As you can imagine, they're full of glowing praise for the city. Enough to make you puke. So far my favorite (in a creepy sort of way) is from columnist John Kelly:

“You’re a Washingtonian if you are affected by the gravitational pull of the capital, if your routine or your mind-set is influenced by the unique rhythms and practices of the federal government.”

The gravitational pull of the capitol? The rhythms of the federal government? I do beleive Mr. Kelly means to be boned by the Washington Monument. Hard.

No srsly. Like, really hard.

Here’s another sample entry:

“There are a million little things that I love about this city, beginning with my daughters, who are Washingtonians. They were raised on puree I made from vegetables bought at the Sunday farmers' market at Dupont Circle.”

For cryin’ out loud. I don’t even know where to begin with that one. Here’s another:

“Washingtonians have generous hearts.”

Take a moment to reflect on that statement. Okay, let's continue…

“Washingtonians have generous hearts. Everyone here is committed to social causes, either working for a nonprofit organization or giving a considerable amount of themselves or their wallets to doing good. Making a difference in the world seems to be our main preoccupation.”

Right. Everyone is committed to social causes, especially the good people at Child Protective Services or the DC Department of Disabilities.

"And let me pause to thank the originators of this contest for using the term "Washingtonians." We were raised to describe ourselves that way. "District of Columbia," "D.C.," "The District" - those phrases never passed our lips."

Whatever man. What. Ever. You may call yourself a Washingtonian, but everyone else thinks you're a jackass.

Sort through all the bullshit accolades for the city, and there’s only one guy, ONE GUY, who gets close:

"Washington, writes poet Kenneth Carroll, is a place where "hope and disappointment live uneasily on the same block, like natives and gentrifiers."

Kenneth Carroll FTW.