I woke up feeling good about Hillary’s debate performance last night, and in frank admiration at her ability, as a 68 year old woman, for keeping so many facts and narratives straight in her head and being such an adept slicer-and-dicer of Trump meat. She looks well, she was vigorous throughout, she was coherent–and obviously the arteries pumping blood to her brain are clean as a whistle.
Not so sure about Trump. If dementia comes to either of these candidates while in office, it will be Trump. Trump may already be trending in that direction. He shows no evidence of having a sharp or well-oiled mind for so rigorous and demanding a job. Seven decades of Kentucky Fried Chicken have not been kind to him. Such habits of eating have perhaps finally caught up with him in his 70th year, addling him. He was very erratic last night, showing his age, and he seemed especially scattered and tired in the second half of the debate. His attention span is obviously zilch, and his sound track narrow in range–and wearing very, very thin.
And he was so irritable and short with Clinton. And loud. He’s obviously a cranky, hyper-sensitive, emotion-driven man. I just don’t think you want this sort of person in the White House–especially when combined with mental confusion! His temperament is akin to a wolf trying to chew its leg out of a trap. He’s obviously in a lot of private pain, prone to lashing out, and so giving nuclear codes to someone like this is very near to a death wish.
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Prometheus Unbound 