It’s hard to argue that any one cabinet member or nominee tells the Donald Trump story better than another, but I’m tempted to say exactly that about Ronny Jackson, the president’s hasty, irresponsible and scuttled choice to lead the Veterans Affairs Department.

Granted, Jackson doesn’t embody the administration’s venality. The crown for that goes to Scott Pruitt, the administrator of the Environmental Protection Agency, and it glitters with discounted jewels from lobbyists and businesspeople with no agenda — none! — beyond tribute to such a distinguished public servant.

Nor does Jackson, who has been serving as the White House physician, spout the most fantastical gibberish. His onetime claim that Trump’s constitution is that of a superman who might live to 200 doesn’t rise to the level of Education Secretary Betsy DeVos’s visions of schoolyard grizzlies, because Jackson did concede that Trump had probably squandered such longevity with too many fries and too little fiber.

But Jackson’s doomed selection tidily reflects many of Trump’s most distinctive traits and disturbing tropisms: his indulgence of decisions that make him feel good in the instant, consequences be damned; his contempt for convention; his disregard for relevant experience; and above all, his itch to marinate in as much flattery as possible.