Literary Corner: The Whirlwind Out of the Voice

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You Can't Fake It

by Donald J. Trump

Let me tell you: your Senator is disgraceful what he did. This election, you will decide which party is in control of Congress, that's true, and if they win, even if they win the House, it's going to be just fighting, fighting, fighting, it's going to be—will be—

You love my hair. Thank you. She knows what to say. She knows how to make me happy. "I love your hair." Well the one thing that has been really great about this whole endeavor, I used to say— "He wears a hairpiece, he wears a hair—" They don't say that anymore. They—these people have seen me under every condition known to man. I haven't heard that one in over a year. You know when you're walking around and the wind is going crazy and you're inspecting, like I did the other day. The incredible hurricane, this horrible hurricane, Michael, that devastated Florida and Georgia and Alabama got hit hard and then a couple of weeks before—and Michael got a piece of them too—but a couple of weeks before̦ I went to North Carolina, South Carolina, you look at what happened in a little piece of Virginia and you walk around in those conditions. You can't fake it, can't fake it. So that's one good thing: nobody ever says that anymore. That's one of the—might be one of the best things that's happened to me a long time, because my whole life they said, "Is it or isn't it?" Barbara Walters interviewed me: "Do you mind if I play with your hair?" Remember that? And then numerous people have done that, but that's OK

—but the choice could not be more clear: Democrats produce mobs, Republicans produce jobs. True.

(Missoula rally 18 October 2018, 26:27-28:17)

David Choi/Business Insider believes Trump was directly claiming that his experience with hurricanes proves his hair is real, if anybody is still doubting. I just wanted to point out the masterful control exhibited in this interrupted intermezzo wrapping a hurricane inside a hair story inside a campaign slogan without—I won't say without skipping a beat, because there isn't any beat as such, just an enormous pulsation—but without allowing the hurricane to escape.