Donald Trump is deeply threatened by Kamala Harris - and desperately flailing | Sidney Blumenthal

"Kamala, you're fired!" shouted Donald Trump. Then he pleaded: "You're fired. Get out. Get out. Get out, Kamala!" The crowd cheered at his rally on 26 August in Glendale, Arizona, as though approving his order. But the invocation of the magic words he recited at the climax of every episode of The Apprentice failed to make her phantom disappear.

Trump's advisers sneak policy material into his stump speech that he must read as it scrolls on his teleprompter. They want to channel him into speaking about "the issues". But he has revolted against them and "the issues". "They always say, 'Sir, please stick to policy, don't get personal," he complained to a rally. He turned to his Maga masses to give him license. "Should I get personal, or should I not get personal?" The crowd cheered as he knew it would. It was the poll result he wanted. "My advisers are fired!"

Trump's narcissism is his grand strategy. No adviser trying to calibrate him to polls can dislodge it. Both Kamala Harris and his advisers constrain and threaten him. He views the vice-president's presence as an injustice. He had beaten Joe Biden. His withdrawal and her emergence were the implementation of the far-right replacement theory. The entire scenario has left Trump on the stage in a play for which his only new lines added to the script are that he is transparently faking it to be sort of for abortion before he is against it as he always was. He announced he will vote to uphold a ban after six weeks in Florida and against the state's abortion referendum to overturn it. He cries that he is the victim, as he is always the victim when he does not get his way. His irrepressible impulse is to trash the woman. The advisers who seek to tamp him down are his adversaries.

Trump believes in the marrow of his bones that his intuition, his sixth sense, is his secret power. Acting out has been his winning ticket. He is certain that is why his moment came and why it must come again. He gives no credence to circumstances or any other person, which would diminish him. He has achieved godlike status by being true to himself. It's not just that he's incapable of being other than himself, but that he feels it is the only way he's won. He's extinguished self-doubt, if he ever entertained it. He can't be anything else. At his core, he believes idolatry of his personality is the key to his success. Without it, he is obliterated. He can never accept losing, being the loser.

"We will never give up, we will never concede," he told the crowd assembled on January 6. "It doesn't happen."

Now against a candidate of change (a woman), his resistance to change (attacking the woman) is his only way to cling to his authenticity. Above all, he fears self-neutralization. If he cannot act out, he's a nullity to himself, his most terrifying prospect. Anything that could be construed as criticism threatens his manhood, his mental equilibrium and evokes a reflexively hostile response. It is an impossible task to pry him away from his impulses, especially when it's a survival instinct.

His advisers' version of "the issues" is a straight and narrow negative campaign to stain his opponents, combined with deceptive flip-flops to smudge Trump's position on abortion. They want clean distortions and falsehoods without Trump's accompanying mess. The architect of his ratfucking operation, Chris LaCivita, was behind the Swift Boat lies about war hero John Kerry in 2004, funded by the far-right billionaire Harlan Crow, who happens to be the big-hearted benefactor of Clarence Thomas. LaCivita has hoped to repeat his mudslinging triumph now against Tim Walz in order to undermine an alternative example of masculinity. Trump, however, keeps stumbling over his campaign's well-laid smears.