For all the self-deprecating jokes, the expressions of humility at vast crowds and the lists of supporters to thank on primary night, running for president is an ego-mad enterprise. Forget the rhetorical flourishes about creating a movement. A major presidential campaign is inevitably about the “me, me, me” of the candidate rather than the “we” of the voters.

So it is with Bernie Sanders.

Thirty years ago, as the socialist mayor of Burlington, Vt., he came across as self-righteous, humorless and bristling with grievances. Now after enjoying the greatest ride through the primaries of any backbench senator in his eighth decade, Sanders is even more certain of his beliefs, louder in his advocacy and more resentful of his fate. Small wonder that Bernie never wants the Ferris wheel to stop spinning.

And, in normal times, Sanders would be entitled to continue his delusion that he could somehow prevail at the Philadelphia convention. But this year, the Republican candidate on the November ballot will not be a deal-making senator like Bob Dole or John McCain. He will not be an ideologically malleable former governor like Mitt Romney. Or even George W. Bush in 2000 peddling “compassionate conservatism.”

Donald Trump is probably the most dangerous presidential contender since the insidious Aaron Burr tried to wrest the White House from Thomas Jefferson in 1800. Never has a modern-day candidate displayed such contempt for the norms of democracy — from not caring about issues to refusing to release his tax returns. The bilious billionaire, the winner of enough Pinocchios from fact-checkers to keep woodcarvers in business for a century, has also been known for his “pathological lying” since his days as the 1980s darling of the New York gossip columns.