The traditional party gatherings could be crafted in a computer.

Over the next couple of weeks, we -- not ordinary-people we but big-money folks -- are splashing out about $120 million to stage two national political conventions. The Democrats convene in Denver, the Republicans in St. Paul, where delegates will confab and holler, drink and eat, collect swag and, oh yes, formally nominate a candidate.

It's all so 20th century. Let's make 2008 the last real-time hurrah. By 2012, we should be staging virtual conventions.

I've been to four or five party parties, and I'm convinced that there's almost nothing that happens in the hall that needs to take place in real life and real time anymore. Like the "footprint" fireworks at the Chinese Olympics, political conventions could be crafted entirely in a computer.

What is "the real thing" anyway? Have you been to a Rolling Stones concert or a big ballgame? Most of the people who are right there in the stadium aren't watching the stage or field -- they're watching the big screens. Richard Pryor would ask: Who are you gonna believe, the Jumbotron or your lying eyes?

Herewith, the myriad-and-one reasons for virtual conventions, apart from the fact that they've outlived their original purpose of picking a candidate right then and there:

* No need for a host city. That means no hand-wringing over what state the candidate needs to suck up to, and no pressure for a host city to bust its civic butt trying to raise millions. Where would a virtual convention be held? Anytown, Cyberspace! Slick blue-screen technology can drop in any skyline image, with the triumphant words on the crawl, "Welcome to ... (your city name here) ... virtual host of the 2012 Republican Convention!"

* Schmoozing. Conventions are where the hardworking volunteers finally meet and network with the party elite. I'm sorry that virtual conventions would mean the rank and file would no longer be "rewarded" by actual, real-time convention seats in "old politics" mode, but canceling the real convention would leave a lot more time to plan even more real, candidate-meets-workers, on-the-road events.

* Platform building. All those planks being sawed and pounded into place -- surely they can all be done with PDF files and online networking or teleconferencing or text-messaging. By the time the convention rolls around, the candidates have had their position papers posted for months. The details -- like the punctuation mark that held up a tax plank at the 1984 GOP convention -- leave them to paid consultants and their BlackBerrys.