The Ugliest American

Last week Donald Trump raised another stir when Rolling Stone published an article about his campaign. This section in particular raised a lot of eyebrows.

When the anchor throws to Carly Fiorina for her reaction to Trump's momentum, Trump's expression sours in schoolboy disgust as the camera bores in on Fiorina. "Look at that face!" he cries. "Would anyone vote for that? Can you imagine that, the face of our next president?!" The laughter grows halting and faint behind him. "I mean, she's a woman, and I'm not s'posedta say bad things, but really, folks, come on. Are we serious?"

This is not a one-off. Trump is constantly demeaning other people, especially women, as Megyn Kelly and Rosie O'Donnell can attest. He's always the combination class clown/school-yard bully making fun of other people for things beyond their control.

Now, Trump is right about Carly Fiorina's stewardship of HP. She was terrible. She brags about doubling HP's revenues. But she did so by buying out her competitor Compaq, and totally bungled the ill-advised merger, which quickly resulted in her dismissal. (Though unlike Trump's four bankruptcies, Fiorina didn't bankrupt HP.) But her appearance is completely normal, and in any case has no bearing on her ability to run a company or be president.

The fact is, Trump is easily the ugliest person running for president. It's not because of his ridiculous hair, or his small porcine eyes, or the jaundiced orange tinge of his sagging flesh (due to cirrhosis, perhaps?), or his bulbous, veined, potato-shaped nose, or his thin, sneering lips, or the flabby physique that he tries to hide with suits that cost more than most people's cars.

No, Trump's ugliness comes from within. To quote Trump, "Look at that face!" You can see it for yourself in most any photo of Trump. His repulsiveness erupts on his face in expressions of contempt, loathing, condescension, anger and hatred. Trump constantly looks like he's about to rupture an aneurysm.  His oratory stylings most resemble those of the managers of WWE wrestlers who are about to pick up a folding chair and hit someone with it. Or maybe a raging wanna-be mafioso.

When he's not foaming at the mouth, Trump's countenance is smarmy, superior and repugnant. He thinks he projects confidence, but he looks like a scumbag who's planning to cheat on his wife or a weasel plotting to stab his partner in the back.

And when he opens his mouth, the hideousness blares forth from his thin, twisted, spittle-flecked lips with every insult and threat. Even his compliments are backhanded and cruel.

Trump can be superficially gracious and kind to sycophants who obsequiously kowtow to him. In due time he will denounce as worthless losers and moneyless suckers those people who adulate him today, when they inevitably turn their backs on him.

Because in the end, Trump is exactly the kind of guy Republicans hate -- an east-coast, Ivy League, big-city, Washington insider, wheeler dealer, self-aggrandizing blow hard. They flock to him now because he spouts the same hate and fear and condescension that he knows they want to hear. But he's just playing them; he thinks of them as pawns and puppets -- the same way he feels about every other person on earth. His fans are just tools to get what he wants, to be discarded and scorned when he gets bored with this new gig.

There's an old saying: "Beauty is only skin deep." It's a facile truism that's supposed make the homely find solace in the idea that the content of your character is more important than your outward appearance. Sadly, it's not true in the real world. First impressions matter, and compliments like "She's a nice person" are codewords for fat and unattractive.

But that saying's converse, "Ugliness comes from the soul" is true. And Donald Trump is the prime example.