As if to cement this golden boy impression, now that he’s off the hustings and has doffed his “Make America Great Again” trademarked cap, Trump appears to have gotten his upper swoop of hair material highlighted. In his recent TV interview with CNN’s Chris Cuomo, with that newly silky, golden crown (it used to be silvery), Trump looked like one of the saints in an illuminated manuscript, or one of the “My Little Pony” figures with the colorful manes.
Either way, Trump the unicorn continues to defy all rationality with his “I’m rubber and you’re glue” approach.
Never mind. Whatever he says strengthens his poll numbers. He’s been called the Teflon Don, and indeed he’s trying to align himself with Ronald Reagan, whose bust he has in his office.
Unlike most people, Pretty Boy Trump’s brain is a boxing ring, and he can dart around and find his footing, avoid a punch and put his questioner on the ropes in a flash.
Nowhere is this ability to turn things around more dramatic than in his 60% favorable rating among Republican women.
Nope, no purgatory for the Donald after bringing up the otherwise verboten subject of women’s blood, when he said questioner Megyn Kelly had the stuff coming out of her eyes and her “wherever.” When it was suggested that he was referring to her monthly flow, he said only a “deviant” would think that. He’s on record saying that breastfeeding is “disgusting.” And that he “cherishes women.”
Perhaps women respond because he’s a strong man in the 1950s/60s sense, and they are nostalgic for that, and those times, before the civil rights or women’s movements. He’s a no-sharing, no-Snuggli-wearing, no-parental-leave kind of guy.
Then again, he can also be a yenta, saying funny stuff about dieting and obsessed with weight. “I’ve never seen anyone thin drinking a diet Coke,” he tweeted. And he told Maureen Dowd of the Times that he can no longer be friends with Bill Clinton, because he’s “too thin.”
To make sense of Trump, you have to keep two very separate and opposing lines of thought in your head simultaneously, (picture a cartoon mouse and a cat beating each other up.) Eventually, your noggin hurts, and you try to eliminate complications and reduce your mind to the the binary world of black/ white, winner/loser, war/peace.
It works for the Donald, and sure makes life easier. “I think the big problem this country has is being politically correct,” he said during the debates. “I don’t, frankly, have time for total political correctness, and neither does this country.” Being P.C is not only time-consuming, it’s boring, and not fun, he told Dowd. “You wouldn’t be here if I was P.C.” he said.
That’s true. Part of the celebration is that at an overwhelmingly complicated time, Trump will be our ADD president. He doesn’t have the patience for political correctness.
It’s true that trying to understand people of different races, genders, cultures, upbringings, is very difficult and frustrating — never mind trying to live with, go to school with, or work with these types. Of course, the demographic reality is that whites will soon be the minority in the U.S. But never mind.
In his first position paper, Trump posits that he will deport millions of illegal aliens (the term “undocumented” is too P.C for him.) How this will be done — whether we put these aliens on trains, or in camps, or dump them from planes on unsuspecting countries in the middle of the night while we build our wall — is not explained.
Only the media want specifics, Trump tells the media. But in one TV interview, he actually told Cuomo a very specific story about how he went down to Miami and scooped up the Doral Hotel before anyone else could, as a way of showing that sometimes you can’t plan these things, or put plans for world events in writing.
Meanwhile, Trump, ever-competitive, delights in asking his media interviewers how other reality shows are doing. He seems particularly interested in the fate of Caitlyn Jenner, because he hears the show is tanking. And then he compliments Bruce as a great athlete and a great looker.
Obviously, Trump is a real estate guy, and a reality TV guy, and that combination is all about facades, staging things for maximum appeal, and knowing how to run a hall of mirrors.
So this gives him a huge leg up on the “none of the above” roster of Republican candidates he’s running against. He’s a performer, and he’s clever and a great observer, though he doesn’t seem to be capable of any insight or irony about himself. The greatest irony is that he has convinced so many right-wing voters to believe in an elite billionaire New York builder.
What he says about Jeb’s “low energy” is genius. Poor Jeb, he with the exclamation point in his campaign signage. “Low energy” implies so much in two little words: Low libido? No fight? Depressed? Repressed?
When asked about Hillary, he talks about the FBI and criminal activity, serious claims. In reality, Trump has magic and no policy. Hillary has policy and no magic.
And the golden creature of TV — who gets his political news from the Sunday shows, and turned the debates into an episode of “American Idol” by complaining aloud about the mean judge — knows his media terrain.
“The nice thing about Twitter,” he told Dowd in the Times, “is that in the old days when I got attacked it would take me years to get even with somebody, now when I’m attacked I can do it instantaneously, and it has a lot of power.”