Republished with permission from Florida Phoenix, by Diane Roberts

“You know, I do the weave. You know what the weave is? I’ll talk about like nine different things, and they all come back brilliantly together, and it’s like, friends of mine that are, like, English professors, they say, ‘It’s the most brilliant thing I’ve ever seen.’”—Donald John Trump

I am an English professor, a person who professes the English.

I do it good, too.

I am not yet fortunate enough to be one of Donald J. Trump’s hundreds, nay, thousands, of English professor friends. But I hear they sit around in a crystal-draped, silk-carpeted room at Mar-a-Lago, drinking Diet Coke, eating cheeseburgers, and discussing literary theory: whether they think Kubla Khan’s “stately pleasure dome” in Xanadu could possibly be as nice as the Grand Ballroom at Bedminster, and whether Blake Lively’s breasts are real.

Sounds like an awesome time.

Anyway, although I am not part of the inner circle, I am nevertheless an expert on language (and Diet Coke), and I am here to tell you that when it comes to “the weave,” Donald J. Trump is the master.

“The weave” is when you “mash up” (as the kids say) a whole bunch of things, kind of like carrot, apple, and broccoli baby food.

(I know: Broccoli has no business in carrot puree, and it might gross you out, but you still have to eat it).

“The weave” is a primo move in what we English professors call “the rhetoric.”

As our Golf Cart Demosthenes explains, “You get off a subject to mention another little tidbit. Then you get back onto the subject, and you go through this, and you do it for two hours, and you don’t even mispronounce one word.”

Not one word!

‘The Best Words’

Except for certain really hard words nobody can pronounce, words such as “Venezuela,” “acclimated,” “infrastructure,“ and “Hamas,” although on that one he may have actually meant what he said, which was “hummus.” It was lunchtime, after all.

No one needs those words. They are not Trump words, and as he so eloquently puts it, “I have the best words.”

Some fake media type asked a question about inflation the other day, a totally unfair and rude question, but Donald J. Trump graciously replied with this dazzling “weave” locution: “You take a look at bacon and some of these products—and some people don’t eat bacon any more. We are going to get the energy prices down. When we get energy down, you know … this was caused by their horrible energy—wind. They want wind all over the place. But when it doesn’t blow, we have a little problem.”

If Samuel Beckett were alive (which he isn’t) he would be in awe of this monologue with its startling juxtapositions and its Dadaist energy.

And no matter what anybody says, it makes perfect sense, especially if you’re high.

We are truly blessed in the oratory department this political season with Donald J. Trump; we are perched on the Parnassus of campaign discourse.

Nobody’s ever seen anything like it.

Batteries, Sharks

As an English professor (and an expert on all the things), I can attest to the fact that his level of magniloquence is truly unprecedented in the history of the galaxy.

In June, he delivered a speech on a serious issue so many of us face, which is what if you’re in a an electric boat and the battery is so heavy it makes the boat sink and there’s a shark right there.

Can you electrocute the shark even if the battery is under water?

“You know what I’d do if there was a shark or you get electrocuted? I’ll take electrocution every single time. I’m not getting near the shark. So, we’re going to end that, we’re going to end it for boats, we’re going to end it for trucks.”

That’s all you need to know, am I right?

Yet some English professors and so-called “pundits” (who know nothing about sharks, bacon, horrible wind, or trucks) attack Donald J. Trump’s “weaves,” calling them “word salad,” “bizarre ramblings,” “crazy,” “bollocks,” and (so rude) “incoherent vowel movements.”

These rude, terrible people aren’t even intelligent enough to realize sharks, batteries, bacon, and wind are huge problems here in America.

They also don’t realize that Donald J. Trump’s uncle once taught at MIT, which means he, Donald J. Trump, has to be one of the most intelligent beings on this or any other planet, “because of MIT, my relationship to MIT,” he says. “Very smart.”

See, brains seeped out of MIT into the uncle, then when the uncle came to Manhattan to go clubbing with his glamorous nephew, brains seeped out of him into Donald.

(Pretty sure that’s how it works, anyway).

Nobel-Worthy

In case this is too complicated for you, his campaign spokesmodel Karoline (with a “K”!) Leavitt explains: “President Trump speaks for hours, telling multiple impressive stories at the same time. Kamala Harris could never.”

I bet Kamala Harris has, like, ZERO English professor friends.

Plus, nobody will ever say her words remind them of James Joyce or William Faulkner, whose writing is extremely similar to Trump’s speeches, except maybe not as great.

If you don’t believe me (which would be stupid, since I know what I’m talking about), check out this passage from The Sound and the Fury: “I returned up the corridor, waking the lost feet in whispering battalions in the silence, into the gasoline, the watch telling its furious lie on the dark table. Then the curtains breathing out of the dark upon my face, leaving the breathing upon my face.”

William Faulkner won the Nobel Prize for Literature, which Donald J. Trump could totally win, too, and will, as soon as he’s president and we buy Sweden.

When it comes to being articulate, he cannot be beaten or equaled or any other word which might imply he’s less than a silverback with a golden tongue.

‘Word Salads’

Florida’s own completely lucid Gov. Ron DeSantis agrees, and says that when it comes to tomorrow’s debate, Donald J. Trump will win bigly over Kamala Harris’ “90 minutes of word salads doused with platitudes.”

In contrast, when our governor serves up his word salads, he offers not just platitudes to dump on them but a choice of metaphorical dressings, including Ranch and Honey Mustard.

Ron DeSantis has been practicing the Donald J. Trump “weave” method, but he hasn’t quite got the hang of it yet, as you can see when he tried to explain his education policy:

“We got a lot of scholars together to do a lot of standards and a lot of different things.”

Good effort, but no mention of bacon. Grade: B-.

As an English professor, I often reflect on how Emily Dickinson, Jane Austen, Victor Hugo, and Charles Dickens would have envied Donald J. Trump and his weave-y fabulousness, as demonstrated in this masterful disquisition on our most beloved cannibal, delivered at a campaign rally:

“The late, great Hannibal Lecter. He’s a wonderful man. He oftentimes would have a friend for dinner. Remember the last scene? ‘Excuse me, I’m about to have a friend for dinner,’ as this poor doctor walked by. ‘I’m about to have a friend for dinner.’ But Hannibal Lecter. Congratulations.”

And here’s his profound assessment of America, presented in New Jersey last month: “You have millions and millions of dead people. And you have people dying financially, because they can’t buy bacon; they can’t buy food; they can’t buy groceries; they can’t do anything. And they’re living horribly in our country right now.”

Roll over, Billy Shakespeare, and give Charlotte Bronte the news.

I’m an English professor, hoping one day Trump University will come back and I can get a job there, and maybe Donald J. Trump will be my friend.