I should have been chronicling the downward slide of Howard Dean—gloating all the while. Dean as the front runner? Oh please—somebody forgot to tell him that just because he gets a bunch of mushy-headed, twenty-something, guilt-ridden liberal urbanites to donate money on the web doesn’t mean he can get elected.

I don’t know if I have much more to say than the abstract. Howard Dean is melting down. He had his legs cut out from under him first in Iowa then in New Hampshire and took a pummeling last night in the first 7 state primaries—he hasn’t won a single state yet. I’m pleased as punch that the American electorate is handing him his hat. How can he seriously expect to be president with such a dismal showing, not to mention his childish Iowa fist-waving, screeching and much-lampooned concession speech?

Yes, the voters FINALLY showed Mr. Dean that his fancy suit of front-runner clothes was made from invisible cloth. Hopefully even more dems are running for the hills, afraid to admit that they were ever enthused about his candidacy.