She Knows, She Knows

The one message that came across loud and clear from the debate last night is that Hillary knows. She knows she lost the debate. She knows she's lost the nomination.

Her early performance was wretched. She didn't lead; she whined, seemingly incessantly. Her most repeated phrases were "This is really important," generally followed by "We should have a debate on [insert topic of the moment]." As if anyone in the whole world would actually watch anymore debates. She's had 20, that's enough. Cue the hook.

She didn't get better over the next hour, only a little calmer.

By the last third, her eyes showed it all. When Obama spoke, she watched him and listened, making notes from time to time. When she spoke, she looked down at the table, not at the questioner, the audience or the camera. She was being clobbered by the questions, by her opponent, too often by herself. Whipped.

When the torture finally ended, she was the last of four to get up from the table, the last to disconnect from the microphone harness, and, tellingly, lethargically last to greet the groupies at the foot of the stage.

While she will probably at least superficially continue the contest in hope of preventing an historic blowout and in order to negotiate her personal demands from the candidate and the party, her challenge for the nomination is over and she knows it.

Her realization will yield a small benefit: She'll have more time to release those documents that Russert kept pressing for. Just kidding.