On the tenth week of the Hollywood writers' strike, I'm wondering what will happen if this virulent bug spreads to the campaign offices of the Presidential candidates. What if there's a walk-out in D.C. by the hard-working hordes who coin the phrases "It's the economy, stupid" and this year's mantra, "change"?

In the last months, Ms. Clinton alone has had more political facelifts than a cat has lives, now on her 11th slogan as she replaces the misfiring Iowa persona, "the Hillary I know," with New Hampshire's Hillary of the common man: "I'm here to identify with the little people."

The prospect of this frightening rapture (the biblical kind) conjures mortifying moments in history, such as when Milli Vanilli's pop fame came to a screeching halt in a 1989 concert when the CD they were lip-syncing to got stuck and they were left…screeching. Or when silent movies gave way to the "talkies" and heartthrob John Gilbert was found (gasp!) to have a squeaky voice.

Talk about the Emperor having no clothes. I don't know what's worse --- seeing our leaders in public physically naked, or rhetorically naked.

What if it turns out they don't have any real ideas?