“(Donald Trump), Superstar,

Do you think you’re what they say you are?” — With apologies to Andrew Lloyd Weber

OK. folks, I am not going to say that the president of the United States is crazy as a switch engine, because I am not a credentialed mental health professional, and hence, not qualified to make such a flippant amateur diagnosis.

However, in that I have been a pretty keen observer of the human condition and of the American political scene for more than 40 years, and like that insurance company which advertises on TV  ad nauseum, “have seen a thing or two,” I do feel relatively confident to suggest the following: “Donald Trump may not be crazy enough to be sent to a place where they write with crayons and lock the doors at night, but if  he were already in there, they wouldn’t let him out.”

How dare I? Well, here’s how dare I:

Forget the almost three years of Shakespearean-quality madness, a madness whose multiple daily tweeted examples thereof have made the vast majority of us in this country unwittingly, but systematically desensitized to it, just consider the last 10 days or so.

Whatever else he might be, Donald Trump, 45th president of the United States and out of familiarity only, ostensible leader of the free world, is not well. More and more, it seems to me, his encounters with reality are only incidental and brief.

Trump, who has displayed what looks a lot like delusions of persecution (Hillary didn’t really get more votes, it was fraud; Obama surveilled Trump Tower; the “Deep State” is everywhere and coming after him; etc.), has more recently been  more open with what are no doubt his equally well-formed delusions of grandeur.

First he “re-tweets” a recognized nut case’s debunked conspiracy theory that Trump is somehow seen as a “savior” by the people of Israel, fulfilling some Biblical prophecy, and then, standing on the White House lawn, in front of the entire White House Press Corps, raises his hands, looks to the heavens, and promptly proclaims himself to be “the chosen one,” sent from presumably a higher force to save the country from China.

The presidency of the United States is being transformed into some new and decidedly unimproved version of Brother Love’s Traveling Salvation Show. (“Pack up the babies and grab the old ladies and everyone go..”)

His staff, of course, retaining some semblance of rationality, would later try to claim the boss was just “joking” about that, presumably after someone figured out that perceived  messianic  complexes are really disturbing among the remnants of the nation’s sane population.

Then, of course, there was that truly bizarre Denmark business, in which Trump managed to first bewilder, then insult, not only the Danish prime minister, but the queen herself, with what truly was his off-the-wall “suggestions” that the United States might either trade Puerto Rico for, or outright purchase, the Danish territory of Greenland for reasons that nobody else can quite figure out because the whole notion, it should go without saying, is truly nothing short of bat guano crazy.

Trump, of course, took great offense at the Danish PM’s rejection of the suggestion, calling her totally appropriate use of the word “absurd” to describe it, “nasty.” The president, who cusses like a sailor at his rallies and wouldn’t know the truth if it bit him on his Quarter Pounder-padded rear end, was wounded by the word “absurd.”

And while all of that would have been quite enough, is it? Nope. Afraid not.

Following those danger-laden forays into the Trumpian  mind, there emerged from it the respective pronouncements that any Americans of Jewish heritage and faith would be “disloyal.” should he or she be so blasphemous as to cast a vote for a Democrat in the next election (He’s alienated virtually every other ethnic group in the country, might as well get the Jews while he’s at it.) and, via tweet, of course, “hereby order” every private company in the country to no longer transact any commerce, or having  any business dealings whatsoever with the the People’s Republic of China.

And yes, Virginia, while there is a Santa Claus, there is no authority for a president to order around private businesses, except in the giant cobweb covered dilapidation that is the The Donald’s brain.

And for my closing argument, ladies and gentlemen, I have saved the following: Donald Trump told his aides to seriously consider using nuclear weapons to stop hurricanes out in the ocean. The President of the United States wanted to nuke hurricanes, which would but create radioactive hurricanes.

Those aides, the paper trail shows, told him they would take the matter under advisement.

As, when it comes to the greater matter of Trump himself, so should we all.

Ray Mosby is editor and publisher of the Deer Creek Pilot in Rolling Fork.