We mock the G-town set because it’s the easy thing to do. But they have a big heart, too. (Granted, it’s just the one heart, they have to share it collectively among them, and it was ripped from the still-beating chest of a Haitian immigrant mother with AIDS, but hey, it’s a start.)

For instance, did you know that some poor black children don’t even get the chance to play polo? Well, it’s true. There is a notable surfeit of ponies in the ‘hood. Thankfully, the good folks at the First Chukker Foundation are about to change all that.

Devoted to, as they put it: “positive social and environmental change as well as the increasing awareness of Polo in the Greater Washington Metropolitan Region,” the upChukkers are all about bringing the ultimate symbol of overentitled prep school dipwadosity within grasp of the common man.

And they were in full force Friday night with a charity benefit at Georgetown’s hyper-exclusive City Tavern Club (how exclusive, you ask? well, Ole G.W. hisself, along with his boys T.J., notorious for his raging case of jungle fever, and Johnny “Sweet Dick” Adams once chilled in this crib, though Jefferson was known to flout the “coat and tie required at all times” dress code by parading around sans pantaloons)

So, yes, for a whole night, several hundred of G-town’s finest rocked ascots in both Crip Blue and Blood Red, while debs shaked they phat asses to the in-house entertainment, “raisin’ the roof” and “droppin’ it like it’s hot,” whilst adorned in the de rigeur uniform of short black minidresses and vinyl boots from the Heidi Fleiss collection.

All for the cause of introducing poor kids to a sport they’ll almost certainly never be able to afford, and for which there exist no college scholarships of note.

Now, don’t get us wrong. We like charity. Charity, it need not be said, is a good thing. But witnessing the self-parody of this particularly retarded charity leads one to conclude these people are either completely, almost inconceivably clueless, or they possess a level of condescending cruelty that would make Blofeld himself blush.

Or, given that it’s Georgetown…perhaps a little from Column A, a little from Column B.

Filed under: Politics is Personal, Pop! Goes the Culture, The Homeland