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The elevators opened to the rooftop of the W Hotel, where pretty people were packed -- literally, packed body to body -- in the glamorous space overlooking the White House and monuments. It should have been winding down; instead, the New Yorker cocktail party had reached a critical mass of celebrities, media, intelligentsia (real and faux) and hangers-on. In the past, we've describe the White House Correspondent's weekend as a parade, a circus. Maybe it was the full moon, but suddenly it seemed ...
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