It’s just too soon.
President Obama will appear Saturday evening at the annual White House Correspondents’ Association Dinner. Normally, the president tells jokes, sometimes pretty funny ones. But please, not tonight.
You’ve just completed memorial services for the victims of the Boston bombings and the West, Texas fertilizer plant explosion. The survivors and their broken bodies lie strewn throughout hospitals and rehabilitation centers in Massachusetts and Texas, wondering how to carry on without the limbs they’d always had and with pain they’d never imagined.
You are the leader of a nation that was just attacked, and the comforter of those whose lives were blown apart in the duel tragedies. It’s a serious task demanding the projection of seriousness.
You supposedly felt moved enough this week to, um, share a moment of silence with your photographer in the Oval Office. You can make some amends for this crassness event by staying classy tonight.
So let the hired help, Conan O’Brien, perform the simple task of amusing an already tipsy crowd giddy that they just met Kim Kardashian. You can say a little bit about the horrible past two weeks, deliver the usual nonsense about how much you respect the press and it’s crucial role in our society – while, meanwhile, your aides do their best to suppress and intimidate it – and then sit down and enjoy the dinner.