15,000 journalists cover 5,000 delegates in what Dana Milbank calls a "media lovefest."

Yikes.

I’ve had my deltoids massaged in candlelight by a licensed therapist; had a foaming pore cleanser and mask applied to my face by an aesthetician; been instructed in the Warrior, Half-Sun Salute and Dancer poses by a yoga instructor; and crawled into a hanging cocoon for a “meditative snooze.” I worked up quite an appetite doing all this, so I ordered vegan corn chowder and gluten-free chicken chile verde washed down with Fiji water — all courtesy of the Huffington Post.

And yet we know the hotels you have to sleep in are horrible and bedbug-infested, not that I'd envy this time-wasting nonsense if I didn't know that. Personally, I'm glad to be in Madison, Wisconsin, blogging the convention by watching it on C-SPAN.