Bizarre. Every time I try to describe what my two days at CPAC were like, I inevitably fall back on “bizarre,” which doesn’t really do it all justice.  The ridiculous array of groups, from Christian Zionists to Muslims for Freedom (who believe Bush is the true savior of their people), protectionists and anarcho-capitalists (they prefer being called Objectivists, but a spade is a spade), curious oxymoronic things like “Young” or “Black” Republicans, was only the tip of the iceberg.

Still, as I sought to make comparisons between conservative conferences and progressive equivalents (after all, any hotel filled with like-minded people is bound to produce a few colorful deviations from reason), I was most struck by the lack of a real progressive alternative. While Campus Progress’s summer student conferences might be the closest approximation, CPAC is a historical legacy, a monolith whose straw poll is expected to actually bear on the primary elections. Reagan’s 12 speeches at CPAC are no small part of their deification of the dullard and worship of his god-awful presidency. Sure, it’s hard to see how our movement would benefit from a 3-day festival of celebrity-mongering idiocy (Rep. Sensenbrenner’s speech was to a nearly empty banquet hall, while hundreds congregated in an absurdly long queue to be in Ms. Coulter’s demonic presence). But, if nothing else, this proximity between everyday “activists” and party-faithful and the biggest names on the right seemed to generate a sense of tangible reward or return for efforts, and undoubtedly helped keep the movement charged up.

(For a summary of the especially surreal moments, scroll down below the jump). 

 The conservative movement showed itself to be, as ever, an un-intellectual (if not deliberately anti-intellectual), but ultimately very savvy, ends-driven political machine. Obviously reeling from the results of the midterm elections, often caught in the same tired defenses of indefensible policies (the media just won’t show the good things that happen in Iraq!), they nonetheless seemed to energize the soldiers and the donors with this tired old tripe. Taxes must be cut, flattened. The War must be won. The sanctity of life and family must be protected. Meanwhile, the tax code is regressive as ever, the middle class suffers, the war is lost, and economic insecurity probably does more to wreck the American family than the gay couple living down the street.

The comfort in all their sadly reality-detached absurdity, I guess, is that this is exactly how conservatives charged to their own defeat in the last election cycle, and it's how they'll probably do it all over again.

Every time I went for a photo-op with some detestable conservative, some hack whose mindless screeds have caused me to take time out my busy day to repudiate, I still managed to keep up the jovial banter.

Laura Ingraham would be the exception. Maybe I was tired, because it was the end of day two, but really, I was just stunned.

"Hi, Ms. Ingraham, I'm Niral Shah, from Dartmouth College. Could I get my picture with you really quickly?"

 "Oh man, from Dartmouth? Wah hoo wah, way to go man." 

"Wah hoo wah" is a cherished (only by borderline senile white, male alumni, and the Dartmouth Review staffers whose otherwise unread publication is funded by them) cheer, that harkens back to the days of the Dartmouth Injun being the school's unofficial, never-sanctioned though since banned (three decades ago) mascot. The cheer is often accompanied by a rowdy cry of "scalp 'em."

Maybe she assumed I was a review staffer, in which case, an odd mix of racism and false nostalgia (the Indian mascot was discontinued before the Review was even founded) is a totally appropirate way to greet someone. Maybe she's just clinging to that one time she offended enough people to pretend she was part of a meaningful opposition to anything (just like that time in the 80s that she published a list of gay students from a private support-group meeting).

Maybe she tapped into my larger annoyance with her successors on campus, (but they'd have to be somewhat relevant for me to actually be annoyed), maybe she was too much of a joke to indulge myself in conversation (on the other hand, I chatted up Michelle Malkin.) Who knows. Regardless, I just walked away this time.

After being so generously snuck into the Reagan banquet by some people, I turned up the shmooze to levels unheard of - even by the resume-padding, bowtie-wearing Young Conservatives that stalked the earlier career fair.

Once I heard that Tom "The Hammer" DeLay, the disgraced personification of conservative lobbying scandals and perhaps all that is wrong with K Street era DC, was in the room, there was no stopping me. Deftly slipping past some ungracefully-aged and over-botoxed senior Conservative women, through a horde of eager acolytes that actually respected this man, I stepped up and shoved my right hand out.

"Mr. DeLay," (I wasn't going to call him a Congressman) "my name is Niral Shah, from Dartmouth College."

"A real live conservative from Dartmouth College, eh? I didn't know there were any," Mr. DeLay said as he excitedly pumped my hand.

"Well sir, there's not a lot, but there's a few," I said, trying not to wrongly identify myself as one of those seersucker-wearing bastards.

 We chatted for a while, but unfortunately, I had left my camera behind. But then, hours later, as we were leaving the Omni Hotel, we saw Mr. DeLay once again. The crowd this time was smaller, but still, it took some skill to get in there.

"Mr. DeLay, could I get a quick picture with you?"

A 40-something, and reasonably fit woman interjects, explaining that she's a blogger, and defended (the now indicted) DeLay "against all those looney accusations from the left," stepping close to him, pawing at him even, lamenting that "nobody even talks about the ranch." (Actually, people do. His ranch-based charity for children is also under investigation.)

I had to wait a little longer ("always gotta make time for a pretty lady," the ex-Congressman told me)

In the past two days, I have had some of the most surreal interactions in my life. Unfortunately, left out of the pictures are some of the especially great moments. Hopefully, I'll get to those a bit later. Until then, here it is. (More after the jump)

Your former UN Ambassador with your fearless, intrepid, undercover blogger:

I chatted with Michelle Malkin for nearly a half hour yesterday, and for a few minutes today as well. Look for more on this in the near future

Well, CPAC managed to gather all four of the black people at this Conference and put them on stage together, for "Conservative Solutions for Urban America."

All the usual gripes and outrage of the more conservative contingency of the black middle class were heard--we can't blame problems on the color of our skin, we must live now and forget the history of oppression, BET is ruining our youth, etc. "Antebellum rednecks have got nothing on MTV and BET, the minstrel show that is pumped into our children's brains daily," said the Congress for Racial Equality's Niger Innis. 

Some of these complaints represent common ground with people on the left--for instance, when Campus Progress hosted a showing of "Beyond Beats and Rhymes" in Los Angeles not three weeks ago, the panel including "conscious" rapper Talib Kweli spent much time ridiculing BET's founder Bob Johnson, who Innis maligned by name at this CPAC panel. In fact, Innis even critiqued Fox News for focusing their (albeit negative) coverage on figures like P. Diddy, and the media in general for presenting a warped and narrow vision of black people, as indication of their totally skewed priorities. "We care more about Anna Nicole Smith and what Britney is shaving or not wearing than a war being fought by our young people." I certainly couldn't argue with that.

When they did choose to focus on the past is where they lost me. Mychal Massie, of the National Center for Public Policy: "Slavery is over." Sure. "The civil rights struggle is over." Okay, maybe. Then, "we went from Martin Luther King to Superfly." Weird...what happened to the Black Panthers? Apparently they were part of a "militant movement that glorified a motherland that never existed" and ridiculed Martin Luther King. Not surprisingly, there was no mention of how King did get more aggressive and spoke out against the Vietnam War at the end of his life. "We went from Duke Ellington to Snoop Dogg," and, most interestingly, "we went from Shirley Chisolm to Barack Obama." Did I miss something? I guess Obama is a lamentable candidate because his father is from Africa, which doesn't exist.

When the Romney supporters start chanting "Romney," the Brownback supporters start chanting "flip-flop." Its a charming display of intra-party discourse in action.

So, straight from the lion's den, here are some pictures. (If a Lion's den was a hilariously inconsistent place that handed out pamphlets and used candy as a lure for attention, that is.)

Lonely lonely Tom DeLay. His PAC, despite an unbearably crowded room around it, did not even get a single visitor. It might be that he's disgraced his movement, or that they didn't bring candy

Ideological Consistency: The American Protectionist and The Libertarian Party side by side

More After the Jump! 

It’s the early afternoon, it’s hot in here, and things have devolved into something those of us in the conference-infiltrating profession refer to as a shitshow. After a massive line formed for Gov. Romney’s appearance, the hordes of star-struck conservatives, of every age and (not really) color have been unable to return to normal panel-attending mode. Ann Coulter, who either has not appeared yet or is already doing book signings, has apparently caused a similarly massive line to form. Because of this, I’m missing out on the conservative journalism and blogger awards, sure to be a simultaneously disheartening and hilarious exercise in irony. (Yesterday, Michelle Malkin received an “accuracy in media” award). While I wait to get some idea of the updated schedule, I figure it’s as good a time for some general reflections.

The straw poll: They take this really seriously, each campaign choosing it’s most attractive and bubbly female operatives to hand out stickers, posters, and while flirting, suggest you attend their speech and vote for them. Also, there is one person shrilly screaming something about “John Cox for President.” Nobody knows what to make of it. Similarly, they seem to be inconsolably offended by John McCain’s snub of CPAC.

The Attendees: It seems to be an even split between old folks and students, or maybe a 60/40 split. The students are often found meandering through the halls, the exhibition booths, and the lobby, but are less well-represented in actual panel discussion audiences. In fact, yesterday’s Grover Norquist-headlined flat-tax-fiesta seemed entirely populated by men who could be Dick Cheney’s body doubles.  

Random observations: In a completely packed room full of tables, the Tom DeLay exhibit was sadly desolate and ignored. That girl yelling something about someone named John Cox will be the death of me. It is really difficult to come up with good reasons why one can't sumbit his email address to your crazy list. Mitt Romney is being accused of flip-floppery in increasingly creative ways, first with actual Romney “flip-flops” being handed out, later with a man in a full-body dolphin suit with “Flip Romney” written on it.

Also, while I may mock some of these kids for being star-struck, I have to admit, I’m not above it either. Stay tuned for more photos, but for now, here's a peak (after the jump) at the hip-crowd at the Young Republican's table.