The first time Donald Trump was supposed to be finished was the day he launched his 2016 presidential campaign. After descending Trump Tower’s golden escalator, the newly minted candidate promptly attacked Mexican immigrants by declaring, “They’re bringing drugs, they’re bringing crime, they’re rapists.” Horrified by this racist spectacle, the political cognoscenti labeled him radioactive and waited for his support to vanish. It didn’t. It only grew.
It took a while longer for the realization to settle in among pols and journalists that Trump, through some strange alchemy of personal force, simply isn’t subject to the same laws of political gravity as other politicians. He’s “Teflon Don.” Scandals that would quickly end other careers didn’t end his. The sheer number of such moments is staggering. Experts declared him finished when he impugned the wartime heroism of John McCain. He wasn’t. People demanded he apologize for attacking the Muslim family of a slain US soldier. He didn’t. Republicans abandoned him when the Access Hollywood tape leaked, expecting he’d be forced to drop out. He stayed in the race. And won.
Trump is like the star of a 1980s horror movie franchise. Like Freddy Krueger from A Nightmare on Elm Street or Michael Myers from Halloween, it’s impossible to do away with him. And there’s always another sequel in the works, eagerly anticipated by legions of fans. Impeach him, he comes back. Impeach him again—still here. Vote him out of office? He launched an insurrection and attempted to stay put by force.
