Scott Meslow ponders the Beltway’s infatuation with House Of Cards:
Why would a town so careful about presentation so gleefully embrace a show that treats politicians as either imbecilic or deeply corrupt, and treats most established journalists as cynical, selfishly motivated and malleable? For a time, the popularity of House of Cards in the District was something of an open secret; a BuzzFeed article published two weeks’ after the show’s first-season premiere reported that “aides who gushed about the show off the record subsequently refused to be interviewed […] fearing it might reflect poorly on their bosses or themselves.” Mike Long, the press secretary for real-life House Majority Whip Kevin McCarthy, took to Twitter to clarify that his boss had nothing in common with Frank Underwood.
Since then, Hill staffers, journalists and politicians alike all seemed to finish watching the first season and something began to change. The less salient aspects of the show collapsed under the weight of a simple truth: House of Cards makes Washington and its two wonkiest industries—journalism and politics—look really cool, even as it implicitly attacks them at their very roots.
The problem Weigel has with the show:
Should the show be truer to Washington? No, that’s a dull ask. Nobody wants to hear Washingtonians or journalists complain that this-or-that metro station should have more stairs. The problem is Underwood’s enemies don’t seem to understand politics.
The Dish 