Each party's designated punching bag took his final uppercut to the jaw in Tuesday's voting. Republican John McCain, who needed to win New York or California in order to maintain realistic hopes of winning his party's nomination, won only Vermont, Massachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island. The former three triumphs were subsequently disallowed when it was discovered they all were actually tiny Canadian provinces that took a wrong turn on the way to the rink; voters there heard McCain was a "right-winger" and believed he played for the Toronto Maple Leafs. The victory in Rhode Island will stand, however, and McCain will be visiting Rhode Island's electorate Wednesday in his bus, the "Straight Talk Express," in order to thank him.

Democrat Bill Bradley, meanwhile, was thumped in his home state (Missouri), the state in which he was a pro basketball legend (New York) and in all of the Canadian provinces, where only two percent of the electorate was able to identify the name "Bill Bradley" – or for that matter, "basketball."

But now that the nominees are all but secure, we should not linger in a state of nostalgia – where Bradley also lost – but rather look forward to the next eight months with an analytical eye.

As with any modern presidential election, issues will impact the outcome far less than will slogans, tie colors, ad campaigns and "Doonesbury." Of these, slogans are the most vital characteristic of an electable candidate.

The Bush camp is already up to its cuff links in sound bites and catchphrases. The candidate's handlers fashioned for him the title of "A Reformer with Results," after McCain, on a platform of campaign finance reform, unexpectedly kicked his fanny in the New Hampshire primary (Bradley lost there, too). Now that the reformer's head is on the wall above a fireplace in Kennebunkport, Maine (another crushing Bradley defeat), Bush can now spend some of his $70 million on a new catchphrase.

In an ABCNews.com chat Tuesday night, Bush spokesman Scott McClellan referenced Bush's "compassionate conservative" agenda three times in five minutes. While it's up to everyone else to interpret that phrase for themselves – "I feel certain people's pain" has an ironically accurate ring – there's no doubt we'll be hearing it hundreds of times between now and November.

On the other hand, Gore, the left-of-center candidate, cannot refer to his agenda as "compassionate liberal." Gore, in fact, will not be allowed to use any word beginning with the letter "l", lest his spokespersons, speechwriters, strategists and fundraisers drive a stake through his heart. Yet he, too, must be fit with a blanket catchphrase or slogan that endears him to the moderate and independent voters who control every presidential election. Already considered and dismissed were "No More Interns as Humidors," "I Didn't Snort" and "Fiscally Responsible Buddhism."

No matter which sound bite these candidates pin their hopes to, you can be sure they didn't think of it. The pervasiveness of spokespersons, speechwriters, strategists and fundraisers assures that these two men, who by most accounts are genial and thoughtful, will be folded, spindled and mutilated into a bland mush, unrepresentative of their true personalities and agendas.

We're not electing a president; we're electing Cheez Whiz.

A maverick third-party candidate could shake this up, of course, but there are few people capable of meeting the distinct criteria of a viable outside candidate:
1. Hundreds of millions of dollars, and
2. No shame.

With Donald Trump, Warren Beatty and Jesse Ventura all begging off, all we're left with is an underfinanced Dennis Rodman and Jennifer Lopez's cleavage.

So what we'll have is eight relentless months of television ads, debates and faux scandals, and in the end George Bush will or won't be elected based on how many people rooted for the Texas Rangers.