And that their solemn, prayerful journey from one side of the Capitol building to the other was actually the conveyance of that death warrant in what amounted to the party's funeral march. Remember this eternal paradox of the human condition: people get what they deserve, not what they expect.
Could you look at the line-up of Democratic impeachment managers without laughing? Was there ever such a band of hapless, misbegotten ninnies assembled for a suicide mission? Led by the waddling homunculus, Jerrold Nadler, side-by-side with Adam Schiff, oozing a flop-sweat of falsehood, a rank cloud of bathos trailed the procession to the Senate side with its pathetic bill-of-particulars.
Could they actually be so dim as to proffer "abuse of power" and "obstruction of congress" as articles of impeachment? These two figments would be laughed out of a second-year law school mock court. Legal necromancers of the future, with all the time in the world, may never unpack the intended meaning of these charges besides "we hate you" and "you hurt our feelings." But it's up to the Senate of today to dispose of them procedurally one way or another, and the exercise is sure to be a high order of entertainment.