The celebrities sitting at almost every table of the Washington Hilton gave the distinct impression that both journalism and politics are now wholly beholden to the whims of the entertainment-industrial complex. That the entire evening's discourse revolved around Donald Trump's birther-babble only confirmed this.

It has always been common for nightclubs to pay bright young things for making appearances. Today, newspapers and magazines pick up the tab, flaunting glamorous contributors – Tina Fey, Bono, James Franco
– while downsizing their newsrooms.

Seeing Rahm Emmanuel rub shoulders with writers, producers and editors would suggest to any reasonable viewer that the press and this particularly photogenic administration enjoy a relationship that is cozier than it is critical. The hoards of people outside the after-parties hosted by DC's rich and powerful are proof that afflicting the comfortable has become much less cool than having drinks with them. Last spring, writer Michael Hastings responded to criticisms of his Rolling Stone profile of General Stanley McChrystal by saying many other journalists resort to writing "puff pieces" in order to gain crucial access to key government officials. This dinner, with its assortment of eye candy and Kit-Kat pyramids, is the ultimate puff piece.

Fewer and fewer Americans trust the press; the polarisation of news coverage is a testament to how ill-at-ease people feel about the information they're being sold. To send the message via C-span that the Capitol, the Fourth Estate and Hollywood are all in it together, if only for one night, hardly helps accusations of elitism.