This has been a disheartening election year. It has also been a fascinating one.
The lords of the Republican party seem intent on overriding the will of their own voter base. They created a ravenous electorate and fed it red meat. Now the beast is threatening to devour them. In response, the Republican elite is saying, "We might ignore your votes, which shouldn't surprise you because we're doing our best throughout the country to suppress the votes of minorities and others who also disagree with us."
The focal point of this exercise in democracy looks like an overweight orangutan wearing an $8,000 Brioni suit the size of a circus tent. He refers to his wife as a former supermodel, which (like most things Trump) is an exaggeration.
The term "supermodel" implies a worldwide reputation and extraordinary success in commercial modeling. A recent Internet search turned up no significant content featuring the current Mrs. Trump prior to her union with Donald. It was only after she became Trump's girlfriend and later his wife that she moved significantly beyond test photos and vanity shoots.
Of course, if Melania were really a supermodel, she would have married Tom Brady or Billy Joel, not Donald Trump.
The man who criticized Carly Fiorina's face has a face that looks like it's spray-painted orange each morning while he's wearing goggles. The mess on top of his head resembles a hair weave doused with industrial-strength glue.
His stomach is HUGE. His face is AMAZING. The hair is OOPS!
He has debased the political dialogue. I now respond in kind.
A half-century ago, Muhammad Ali nicknamed his opponents. Sonny Liston became "the big ugly bear." Other ring foes were denominated "the rabbit" (Floyd Patterson), "the washerwoman" (George Chuvalo), "the octopus" (Ernie Terrell), and "the gorilla" (Joe Frazier).
But Ali did it with a twinkle in his eye. And he wasn't campaigning for the presidency of the United States.
Trump wants to be president, so it has far greater meaning when Rafael Edward Cruz becomes "Lyin' Ted" and Marco Antonio Rubio is labeled "Little Marco."
The other candidates are either unwilling or afraid to play the name game with Trump.
I'm not, and I will.
What shall we call Donald Trump?
On the theory that turnabout is fair play, we could call him Lyin' Donald or Little Donald. But that wouldn't be very creative.
Then there are the obvious choices: Obnoxious Donald, Raunchy Donald, Sleazy Donald, Slimy Donald, Loathsome Donald, and Nauseating Donald.
We could reference Trump's physique in the form of Plump Trump, Obese Donald, or Fat Boy. But that would be cruel and miss the point. We're electing a president, not crowning a new Mr. Universe. So it might be preferable to focus on ability and character.
Doing so alliteratively would give us Detestable Donald, Deviant Donald, Disgusting Donald, Despicable Donald, and Dopey Donald.
In keeping with the sometimes childish nature of Trump's conduct, we could respond in kind with Icky Donald and Creepy Trump.
But the best name is . . .
It's hard to improve on Ivana Trump's characterization of her former husband as "The Donald." But let's try.
In recognition of Donald Trump's high standing in the Hispanic American community, let's call him "El Donaldo."
The Urban Dictionary defines "Donaldo" as follows: "A crack-dealing guy . . . A mean disgusting really ugly kid with messed up teeth who has no life. He likes to make fun of girls and bully them. He is a bossy friend who wants his friends to hate random people. He is a ass wipe and a big loser."
Thomas Hauser can be reached by email at thauser@rcn.com. His most recent book - The Baker's Tale: Ruby Spriggs and the Legacy of Charles Dickens - was published by Counterpoint.