An Immodest Proposal: Bring Carnival to Washington, DC

Perhaps portray Romney spinning a roulette wheel to pick out his issue positions for the day.

And the campaign press, their binoculars focused on a single finger in the wind.  Perhaps Hillary pulling that finger.

Maybe Oprah as Merlin helping Barack Obama pull a sword out of a stone, hoping we all forget the earlier spells she cast to cheerlead the US into Iraq.  John Edwards as Sweeney Todd, putting a hot towel on a wayward CEO? Perhaps the remaining presidential primary candidates gathered on a float depicting a council meeting on “Survivor: Campaign Trail”, voting each other off. If candidates are foolish enough to court his support, there could be a carnival role for Al Sharpton. Tawana Brawley could be the princess on his float. Tapping the potential from lobbyists, have Trent Lott stuck in a revolving door, dollar bills whisked around by a fan in the door section next to him.
 
Revelers might pay homage to the hilarity of Dubya's famed White House Press Corps Gridiron skit, where he searched for WMDs under his desk.  Only now he looks for a Bill of Rights in Iraq.  Or for one in the US.  How about a conservative estimate of the true cost of Iraq, somewhere north of a trillion,  in play money going into a giant shredder, dispersing carnival confetti to the crowd?  What the hell, use real money.

And there’s no reason we couldn’t have fun with notorious politicos from other countries. Picture Russia’s Vladimir Putin, running a glowing Kool-Aid stand; or Venezuela’s Hugo Chavez dressed as Caesar, cheered on by his latest fans, Columbia’s narco-terrorists; or Iran’s Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, dressed as almost anything, including a dinner jacket. Perhaps Israeli and Palestinian negotiators for the road map to peace, playing Three Card Monte.

The problem with satire, of course, is that it can only sustain so much tragedy before it turns sour. There’s a fine line before a jest becomes a party-killer. I’m reminded of a 1930’s photo in a Cologne carnival museum, of an ominous float’s occupants, dressed as orthodox Jews, sporting the sign, “The Last to Go”. In contemporary times, one could not easily portray, say, the siege of Fallujah, without draining the mirth from carnival.

But done right, carnival readily showcases emperors without clothes. It’s no shocker that tyrants including Hitler and Napoleon banned carnival.

The church struggled mightily to suppress carnival before it finally figured if you can’t beat it, join it. Carnival became a handy tool for co-opting cultures conquest brought under church dominion, resulting in a wonderful palette of carnivals that combine historical traditions, including aboriginal beliefs.

Consider carnival's pagan roots, back to the Titans, to rites of spring, chasing the winter demons, to hopeful fertility, to planting anew.  Irrepressible despite authority's many stompings, when carnival collided with the church it took on themes of redemption and renewal.  The carnival spirit, burned in effigy, departs taking the woes of the year, leaving all with a clean slate.

Has there ever been a city more in need of a do-over than Washington, DC?