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“Hope You’ve Seen the Pandas, Adrian”: Smithsonian secretary G. Wayne Clough tried to finally address the public last night about the manufactured controversy over the short film A Fire in My Belly that was briefly part of the National Portrait Gallery’s “Hide/Seek” exhibit last winter. His statements weren’t satisfactory for some in the crowd, TBD’s Maura Judkis reports. Adrian Parsons, an artist and activist who had picketed the gallery after the film was pulled, left halfway through last night’s panel, bought some art supplies, and returned with a cardboard sign reading “CENSOR,” which he then attempted to hang around Clough’s neck. Also in the crowd was Mike Blasenstein, who was briefly banned from the Smithsonian after playing A Fire in My Belly on an iPad in the National Portrait Gallery. Blasenstein grabbed the microphone and called the panel “irrelevant.”

Dept. of Acrobatic Urban Restoration: Just what the hell is Swampoodle? It was a name for NoMa, long before the high-rise condos moved in, and according to Wikipedia, “a lawless shantytown, where crime, prostitution and drunkenness were rife.” It’s also home to the old Washington Coliseum, which the Irish arts organization Solas Nua is taking over next month for “Swampoodle,” a show promising “eye-popping high-wire feats, roller derby smack-downs, big-track earthmovers, brass band music and scenes of a spectacular nature.” Wait a sec, we’ve heard of that act before.

Just Stop It, WaPo: In today’s edition of The Post‘s royal-wedding nicompoopery, the Reliable Source column has found a young woman who kind of looks like Kate Middleton from a distance.

Previously on Arts Desk: Goodbye, Casper Bangs. Hello, Latristic. D.C. Hardcore is celebrated in Lawrence, Kan. Little talks to Fugazi bassist Joe Lally.