Donald Trump is a say-anything cipher, who denies pretty much everything in his record and promises the pretty-much literally impossible, such as getting Mexico to pay for a wall and winning so much you will get bored of it.
He is the culmination of decades of dumbing down of political rhetoric and tolerance for hatred among a part of the electorate that once went for George Wallace and Lester Maddox, supported by people who seem to worship the rich and famous like the ancient Israelis worshipped the Golden Calf.
Who know what he will do when he has power? He has no actual proposals, only bragging and generalized promises. He is a nasty-speaking blank slate on which his supporters project hateful dreams and dystopian hopes. He was born rich, got richer as real-estate huckster with four bankruptcies, took homes from people to build projects, betrayed two wives, and has had a career on TV firing people. Is he a 44 magnum pointed at the heart of American freedom, or an unlikely savior that will actually do you hope he will do? You decide. Do you feel lucky, punk?