"I love the poorly educated"

I watched the Republican primaries with shock and amusement—especially the one in Nevada. Trump's done well in the Sagebrush State. It has a history of throwing its saddle over the buckingest horse. Even Nevada governor, Brian Sandoval, had to get on board, once Rubio had to vamoose. It's not that Sandoval cares one hair about Trump, it's that Nevada isn't a place where people—even Latinos—sit idly by when someone's ready to bareback the establishment.

Nevadans love Trump because he isn’t Washington. Owing to some quirk going back to Lincoln’s time, the federal government still owns 85 percent of Nevada’s land. Nevadans don’t like that one bit, which is all the more reason to elect Trump. He isn’t a politician. Sure, he’s a questionable purebred. His grandfather might have been a pimp, his great grandfather even worse. But that suits Nevadans just fine. The less ancestral flash you have, the better.

Trump's fan-tailed rooster, a man not afraid to speak his mind. As one of the party faithful pointed out, “He’s gonna get the job done.” This was seconded by her friend who said, “He’s got a nice wife and kids.” Well, his wife likes posing nude, his sons like holding up freshly killed leopards, and his daughter sounds slicker than Trump does.

All that aside, Trump is still considered a straight shooter, even if he hits the wrong target—or even the side of the barn. “I love the poorly educated,” he said one night. The poorly educated love him, too. In Nevada, New Hampshire and South Carolina, trounced Ted Cruz and Marco Rubio soundly, and sent Jeb Bush sniffling back to Florida.

Despite his strategist’s warnings, Trump isn’t afraid to speak his mind. Trump’s more fantasist than realist. Fantasy plays well in evangelical states where it doubles as Biblical reality.

Some people have likened Trump to Hitler. This is an interesting comparison when you look back at Hitler’s speeches in 1933. That was the year of the “Enabling Act,” allowing Hitler’s Chancellery eventual control over Parliament. What was supposed to be a “new beginning for Germany,” was a power play designed to kick other parties to the curb. Hitler effectively defeated the Social Democrats by effectively killing them.

In Albert Speer’s book “Inside the Third Reich,” Speer admitted that everyone was caught up in Hitler’s words, in his power of persuasion. He carried them along, giving them hope. “We didn’t have time to think,” he said, “or realize his ideas were filled with hypocrisy.”

Trump’s not all that different. He lays out the kind of rhetoric poorly educated masses love to hear: “Send illegal immigrants home, bomb the hell out of Islamic extremists, and take our jobs back from foreigners.”

Only he gets tangled up in his stirrups, as we learned on The Letterman Show. David showed Trump’s clothing line, all made in China. Trump wasn’t the least put out. “They’re good shirts,” he said. “I’ve got them in white, too.”

It seems we have to give Trump leeway. “Do as I say, not as I do,” might be the best way to describe it. He’s been to bankruptcy court four times, but that isn’t a problem in his mind. “You have to know how to use the laws,” he said during one debate. “Anyone with brains and business savvy knows that.”

No big deal for Nevadans. They have one of the highest bankruptcy rates in the country (3.79 bankruptcies per 1,000 people), running right behind Mississippi. Seems being a “gambling capital” doesn’t guarantee you won’t end up under Chapter Eleven—as Trump found out in Atlantic City. Gambling and bankruptcy go together like chalk and cheese.

And let’s not forget—since Trump won’t let anymore forget—he’s never declared personal bankruptcy. Corporate bankruptcy is totally different. You do that to “reorganize the debt,” which simply means you stall until someone takes the dog off your hands.

Again, this doesn’t bother the voters of Nevada. They’ve come to accept a certain amount of about-face politics. Where else can you have a “Pro Life” state that still lets you attend legalized brothels?

When Jeb Bush told his constituents that “Donald Trump will never be President,” he overlooked Trump’s knack for simplified rhetoric. Not only did it play well in Nevada, where Trump claims he has the evangelicals, the Hispanics and, of course, the poorly educated, it played well in Texas, too.

Rubio once accused him of repeating statements without giving foundation. Trump responded with: “I don’t repeat myself, I don’t repeat myself.” As Rubio threw up his hands, saying, “He did it again,” Trump raised his first finger and, true to form, repeated himself.

Repetition is actually good, especially when it comes to subjects like healthcare reform. Outside of repelling it, the candidates had a hard time explaining it. Except Trump, of course. “Remove the lines around the states,” he said. “Let insurance companies compete on a national level.” When asked if he had anything else to add, he shrugged and said, “No.”

What else was there to explain? Build a wall to keep illegal immigrants out. Tear down walls that prevent open competition. Seems obvious, doesn’t it? Just like when he was asked why he wouldn’t build a wall across the Canadian border. “Look,” he said, “the Mexican border is maybe a thousand miles long. The Canadian border is four times that. I’m being practical here.”

The trick to Trump’s popularity is obviously simplicity. Hog towns and evangelical states need that. All this talk of balanced budgets, Supreme Court justices, respect for the Constitution—it takes too long to process. Better to just say: “It’ll be wonderful, it’ll be beautiful.”

People aren’t so much interested in details as intent. Even irony plays well in Republican circles. Like Trump calling former Mexican president, Vicente Fox’s f-bomb “filthy” and “disgusting.” “If I used that kind of language,” Trump said, “the media would be all over me.” Well, they were all over him in the primaries for using similar expletives.

It’ll be an interesting run up to November.  Will Trump’s boiled down, often erratic logic work against Hillary Clinton? He may be the buckingest horse out of the gate, but Clinton and her camp aren't rodeo novices. They know just kicking in circles doesn’t make it on the big board. It’s how you show, not how you throw.

Robert Cormack is an advertising copywriter, journalist, satirist and novelist. His first novel "You Can Lead a Horse to Water (But You Can't Make It Scuba Dive)" is available online and at most bookstores. Check Skyhorse Press or Yucca Publishing for more details.