Do reporters care about the tiny trophies of governance? Ashley Parker and David Carr review episode seven of the Netflix series “House of Cards,” and discuss whether the people who wield pens care about getting one with presidential pixie dust on it.

The recap of episode seven is, like all of our lookbacks, rife with spoilers, so avert your eyes if you have not seen it yet. And if you want to catch up with past chats, you can find episode one, two,three, four, five or six for the clicking.

Episode 7

Synopsis: Congressman Frank Underwood gets his education bill signed, which gives him juice and credibility for further adventures. Zoe Barnes invites Janine Sikorsky, the White House correspondent of her former employer, The Washington Herald, over to the dark, blogging side of journalism. Peter Russo seeks redemption, or at least election to the governor’s post in Pennsylvania. And Ms. Barnes and Mr. Underwood celebrate Father’s Day.

Carr: First off, I love the parallel opening juxtaposition of a bill signing in the Oval Office and a recovery meeting in a church basement. The first is all about hierarchy, ceremony and celebration, while the second is a place where all people are the same and the only thing being celebrated is another day of sobriety.

Much of this episode revolves around the effort to redeem Congressman Peter Russo and clean up his past for a run for governor. As Jane Hu and Carrie Frye noted in their excellent recap on The Awl — and I thought we were the only people nerdy enough to do this — Mr. Russo is forced to sit like some kind of potted plant while other people in the room talk about him in the third person.

Part of the cycle of redemption is the coming-out story in which the public figure admits that mistakes were made. In this instance, Janine Sikorsky, who at Zoe’s urging is contemplating leaving The Herald, is writing the comeback story of Mr. Russo so she has a “gritty” clip to give her cred if she decides to join Zoe at Slugline. They go through the by-now familiar kabuki in which she asks about terrible things and he minimizes at every turn. It seems a bit off, though. At one point, she asks if he “only” used marijuana and cocaine. To which I say, what’s left, shooting heroin in your eyeballs? I would think cocaine is enough to create more than a speed bump in the comeback narrative of an elected official.

With all that out of the way, can we talk about pens? In this episode, Frank hands across a pen from the bill signing ceremony to Zoe as if it were one of those pen-like gadgets from “Men In Black.” He says it is “part of history” and she seems to receive it as such, but in my experience reporters don’t care about tchotchkes like that. Working there, Ashley, you would know better. And do reporters literally go into the Oval Office for bill signings? I’ve only been there once and it didn’t seem like it was big enough to hold all those people.

Parker: Well, reporters would never be in a position to receive a signing ceremony pen — unless, like Zoe, they happen to be sleeping with, say, a member of Congress. So I think it’s the naughtiness of it she cares about, not the actual pen.

A brief caveat though: I don’t cover the president, and have never ridden on Air Force One. But I have seen enough Instagram photos and Tweets to know that the one tchotchke reporters seem to savor as a point of been-there-done-that pride are the tiny packs of Presidential MMs they give out on Air Force One. I imagine that all across Washington these specialty MMs — complete with the Presidential Seal — are decorating desks and bookshelves and stuffed in drawers as a souvenir from a reporter’s maiden Air Force One ride.

To answer your question, though, I had to run it by our White House team — and the short answer is no. As Jackie Calmes explained rather succinctly, “Bills usually aren’t signed in the Oval.” And Peter Baker explained further: “If it’s a bill they want to highlight, they can stage an elaborate ceremony in the Rose Garden or East Room. If it’s a minor bill or one they don’t want anyone to pay attention to, they won’t have any media in at all. It’s their choice.”

However, there will always be a “pool” of reporters accompanying the president at any bill signing, and this would include a print reporter. The job of the pool reporter, which rotates daily, is to track all of the president’s movements/statements/events/etc. and send out a report to all of the other reporters who weren’t able to be there.

But back to pens, one of the most affecting scenes in this episode was that the vice president was so desperate for the camera shot, and for the pen in the signing ceremony that was not forthcoming. Later, we see him duck into the Oval Office when no one is looking. He squeezes the leather of the president’s chair, scoots himself up to the mahogany desk, clasps his hands and allows himself to imagine for one moment what it would feel like to be commander-in-chief. Then, he notices the pen, slips it in his breast pocket, and walks out.

David, what did you make of that image?

Carr: I thought that the big press gang scene in the Oval Office was a confection. In terms of people vying for pens — and camera positions — no one ever lost their job by overestimating the pettiness of the Beltway ruling class.

I find it interesting that the meme of the vice president as inconsequential and off-the-ball persists in popular culture. “House of Cards” and HBO’s “Veep” both have number two’s who seem more like two-year-olds, even though the last three vice presidents — Dick Cheney, Al Gore and now Joe Biden — have had significant portfolios and the ear of the men they served. While its true that vice presidents have rarely taken on heroic dimensions in the American narrative, their role seems to have grown in real life while shrinking in the popular imagination.

I think it’s telling that Frank Underwood always goes to great pains to address the vice president with a great deal of formality — “Mister. Vice. President” — because he seems to sense that the title is all the man has. Dan Ziskie does a great job of making Vice President Matthews seem full of himself and tiny at the same time. And the scene in which he steals into the president’s office and tries the desk on for size is well played. He seems like a naughty child in need of minding.

Speaking of which, there is the matter of the Father’s Day scene between Zoe and Frank. Other publications will probably do a better job of describing their transgressive interaction. But suffice it to say that while in the past they met on a somewhat equal footing, with each seeking something from the other, the subtext of their respective ages becomes overt in this episode. They know that what they are doing is wrong on many levels and that is a large part of why they like it.

Article source: http://mediadecoder.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/03/18/house-of-cards-episode-seven-and-father-figures/?partner=rss&emc=rss