And now we sit and watch in disbelief as the victor drops one piece of china after another, spits in the soup, sticks his fist through a painting, and gobbles up the chocolates. Not satisfied with the usual election-night victory speech, he stages a post-election victory tour and gloatfest, a series of rallies in arenas where he can waggle his thumbs and smirk and holler and point out the journalists in their pen for the mob to boo and shake their fists at. He puts the Secret Service through their paces, highways are closed, planes diverted, cities disrupted, just so the man can say how much fun it was to defeat Hillary Clinton and confound the experts.