There’s a place in New York where they all go when they’re in town. Sometimes it can be a rowdy joint; the great space between those carved and polished oak walls echoing with laughter and slaps on backs, the tinkling of glasses and the clatter of silverware on china plates. Other times it can be a mortuary; dreary, sparsely occupied by patrons who are drearier still, who stuff their mouths with bits of braised mutton or entrecôte, and gulp down Cabernet Sauvignon like water. The Friday following the election it was the latter.

At the center of the dining room, where several tables had been pushed together to accommodate them, the usual circle of gabbers and scribblers had gathered to commiserate. Sean Hannity held up his empty glass, and a waiter appeared and filled it with red wine. He looked at his companions around the table and raised a toast: “To conservatism in exile.”

“Hear, hear!” and “Huzzah!” and “To exile!” they all said. When that toast had been drunk, Mark Levin tapped his knife against the side of his glass and stood up to offer another one. “Since Sean just raised a toast to remaining steadfast in the face of this unhappy, undesirable, less-than-ideal election result, let me propose a few things not to toast.”

There were smiles and pleased murmurs from around the table.

“I do not propose a toast,” Mark continued, “to the president-elect. I do not propose a toast to socialism, to Marxism, to the class warfare, wealth redistribution policies of our Alinskyite incoming chief executive. I do not propose a toast to the weak-kneed, cut-and-run military strategy of our new commander-in-chief. And I do not propose a toast to the gutless, incoherent, and cowardly campaign waged by the nominee of the Re-pubic-an party!”

Mark took his seat to a round of righteous applause. “And here’s to our nominee next time around,” said Rush Limbaugh, lifting his glass but remaining in his chair, “whomever he or she may be.” He grinned as he glanced around the table. “Let’s hope we’ve learned our lesson this time, with the nomination and defeat of the Democrat from Arizona!”

John McCain sat at a small table by the window. He sipped from a cup of coffee, and broke off another piece of pecan pie with his fork.