“The problem with you,” said my high-priced handler early in my never-to-be-repeated campaign for United States Congress, “is that when someone asks you a question, you think you need to answer it.”

He had me there. Other than a question like “How are you?” (to which the answer is, not, “I’m having an anxiety attack,” but “Fine, thank you.”), I was raised to answer questions truthfully. In fact, I thought that was the purpose of campaigning: people, or their stand-ins in the press, ask questions and the candidate tries to answer them so the voters can decide whom to support.

Well, no. A question is an opportunity to deliver, yet again, your three (always three) talking points. But seasoned reporters already know that. Their job is to get you off message to give voters insight into something more substantive than a bumper sticker. You may have noticed that John Kasich’s wonderfully impassioned and well-rehearsed condemnation of the know-nothings in his party came in response to the evening’s first question: “What is your biggest weakness and what are you doing to address it?” To which he responded, “Good question, but..."

It was all downhill from there, and I didn’t make it to the end. The questions were tiresome, the answers unedifying and the only poignant moment was Jeb’s sad smile as he watched his takedown of Marco blow up. It’s all about entertainment now, like hoping for a pile-up at NASCAR. And sadly, both the media and the candidates know it.