The Donald has had a tough week — and I feel his pain.
Right from the get-go, when he re-imagined the size of his inauguration crowd, I instantly knew that he and I had a lot in common: the first characteristic was that he much preferred his own version of events to reality, which makes the world more fun to live in; he and I know that.
After that, he did everything he could to make his version stick. He invented his own truth, he pleased himself before anybody else. He wasn’t afraid to be ill-mannered, impetuous, off-the-cuff and rude; he figured he could do whatever he liked and get away with it — and he did.
These are the kind of qualities The Boss attributes to me but the Don is the master: he has embraced my worst excesses and lifted them to a whole new level. Despite abusing or firing anyone who disagreed with him, despite rambling incoherently, ignoring history and dismissing intelligence advice, he has amassed a vast legion of ardent believers who like some of what he says — attacking immigrants, veterans, generals, the FBI and the CIA, the public service, whole nations — it doesn’t matter.
His great example has been that his outrageous behaviour actually attracts the people The Boss thinks it should repel, in the same way other dogs want to play with me when I’m at my most obnoxious. He is the king of resentment and a magnet for the resentful.
Evangelical Christians overlooked his womanising, cursing and stream of alternative facts. Some claimed he was anointed by God — and that they would do anything for him. Many did, and went to jail for doing what he asked, like storming the US Capitol or telling fibs to a court or Congress.
He ran a cult, The Boss says. I like to think I have developed something of a cult following myself — my followers on Facebook and Twitter come from all breeds and countries, united by our single-minded interest in food — but The Donald has legions who wait in line for hours to see his huge rallies, without so much as a meat pie.
Now I see the New York Post is making fun of him and The Boss reckons that, once that happens, the game for a political figure is over. But I know The Donald: he would go along with Oscar Wilde, who said the only thing in the world worse than being talked about is not being talked about. To The Don, irrelevance is worse than death.
The Boss maintains The Donald has lost any credibility over the US midterm elections, with many of his election deniers — with brains like mine — having lost and the Republican hierarchy now convinced The Donald is a loser. They know that, while he still commands a huge following, it will never be enough to become president again.
So they have to find another candidate for 2024 and The Boss reckons big donors will move their money away from Trump.
But The Boss doesn’t understand The Donald like I do. The Donald won’t lie down quietly. Like me, it’s not in his nature. He will come out fighting. Ferociously. Scorching anyone in his way.
The Republicans will desperately look for candidates prepared to him take on, but they will have to put up with the full force of The Donald on a rampage, which is not for the faint-hearted. Maybe not for anybody.
And if the Republicans finally select another candidate to run for president, I predict The Donald won’t lie down then either. He will run on his own and create chaos, splitting the vote. He will take the militias and evangelicals and racial bigots with him, and millions of wishful-thinking believers (and dogs like me). Stand by, as he says. The Donald hasn’t finished yet. Woof!