Donald Trump, the Kool-Aid Man given human form, is America’s next president despite his historically abysmal approval rating prior to taking the oath of office.

That must hurt his feelings, though you might assume he doesn’t have any, since he spends most of his waking hours tweeting insults at people beneath him on the social pecking order — all while wearing a suit multiple sizes too big for his ample frame.

Well, you’re wrong: Orange Hillbilly Jesus has feelings! He has so many feelings, as you will discover if you watch OBJECTified: Donald Trump, a new special presented by OBJECTionable TMZ founder Harvey Levin, which aired on Fox News Channel Friday night. He has so many feelings that you might even forget that he’s an unrepentant demagogue and crypto-fascist pig.

If you haven’t tired of the fawning puff pieces, the stream of photo galleries of Melania’s dresses and the pundits pretending that an anti-semite being White House chief of staff is normal, I highly recommend seeking out this program. Levin does a remarkable job acquiescing to the idea that Donald Trump is actually not the Gollum David Duke has been molding out of clay for the last decade and has finally figured out how to breathe life into, but a real person with his own ideas about America.

Trump’s sober as a church mouse because his brother Frank died of alcoholism. This is legitimately, unmistakably sad and not open for mockery. But I also must admit the irony of the fact that I’ve been drinking way more since Trump was elected. The Donald can claim he’s doing us a service denouncing alcoholism, but my liver begs to differ.

Trump is also a doting, overbearing father, which we discover from photos of his kids posing with their dad on red carpets and sitting still for staged photos of them answering fake phone calls and typing fake emails. Just like in the sitcoms we love! You know, Kevin Can Wait, Man With a Plan, and whatever else is on CBS right now at this very moment.

In between the shock-and-awe moments of hagiography, Levin (who I should point out has made a career of tarnishing the reputations of celebrities and is now gleefully propping up Herr Trump as though he’s the dad from Full House) takes us through an MTV Cribs-esque tour of president-elect Trump’s office, telling the story of his life through the various trinkets and baubles he’s collected in his 70 years on this planet. Is there a more American concept than some inveterate psychic leech pretending like he’s making keen observations about a world leader through the shit he’s purchased or collected through a lifetime of unrepentant pirate conquest?

There are school yearbooks, family photos, gold-plated bullshit as far as the eye can see, and the chair from the Apprentice. Our next commander-in-chief brags about his record in military school, which Levin doesn’t question for a second, despite numerous conflicting reports as to his conduct.

This is the guy who helped bring down Ray Rice and now he’s tossing softballs to a leader who advocated for a national registry of Muslims.

Trump proudly displays a letter from disgraced former president Richard Nixon from 1987 declaring his appearance on the tabloid talk show Donahue as evidence that he would make a fine public servant. There are numerous photos of Trump with black people — Samuel L Jackson, Oprah, even Spike Lee — to prove he’s not as racist as he seems.

Oh, there’s Trump singing Take Me Out to the Ballgame at a Cubs game. That the Cubs and Trump both defied hundreds of years of orthodoxy and good taste to win big in 2016 is no coincidence.

We are treated to multiple photos of our next president enjoying the company of Patriots quarterback Tom Brady — maybe the only man in this country with less public respect than Donald Trump. “I think Tom is totally innocent. I think Tom is, first of all, he’s such an honorable guy and I’m with him all the way,” Trump says of Brady. If this chief executive thing doesn’t work out, he might find himself in the chair opposite Stephen A Smith on ESPN’s First Take. I would enjoy Trump’s poisonous schtick far more if it was directed towards the question of whether or not the Miami Dolphins’ Ryan Tannehill is an elite quarterback rather than whether or not women should be given the right to choose.

This is where we are as a nation, and I cannot think of a better man to usher us into oblivion than Harvey Levin. He has made a fortune taking advantage of the prurient interests of a clinically depressed country and now he’s humanizing a politician who made his name questioning the legitimacy of the sitting president, then labeling Mexican immigrants as rapists. Levin doesn’t seem bothered by his role in giving agency to a public figure who has gone on record advocating for famous people not waiting for consent from women.

Ambition knows no boundaries. Ego is limitless in our new reality. To his credit, Levin asks Trump about why he maintains a table full of magazines featuring his cartoonishly tan face on the cover in his office. Trump responds: “It’s not ego. I love doing it. I just have fun.”

What’s truly fun about this? What pleasure does he derive from his obsession with collecting his press clippings, even if they’re overwhelmingly negative? When he was booed walking to his polling place, did he get an illicit thrill from the anger? He claims in this show that he doesn’t subscribe to the notion that all press is good press, so how must he feel when more than half the nation thinks he’s reprehensible? The only reasonable response I have to this idea is that he must truly believe he is some messianic martyr who must suffer for our sins of government assistance programs, equality, freedom of the press, and social justice.

“I’ve won enough for myself. I wanna win for the country. I hate, Harvey, what’s happening to our country,” he tells Levin in a moment of faux transparency. Even in these staged scenes of humanity, Trump cannot help but fall back on his tired campaign slogans. He wants to win for us this time! What a magnanimous fellow. I can’t win for myself, I guess.

Watching this nonsense, I feel as though I’m an audience to a Tony Robbins-esque motivational speech. Believe in yourself as much as I believe in you, he might say. The only one holding you back is the man staring you down in the mirror. Trump simultaneously reinforces our latent inferiority complex, while also propping up our fragile self-esteem like a classic abusive husband.

“I always tell people never, ever give up. Never quit. Always do something you love. You’ll have so much more success if you keep going. Even against odds,” he says when Levin asks him about his empire. Trump could have walked away when the media chattering class assumed his campaign was as moribund as Bernie from the film Weekend at Bernie’s — a movie that was popular in the last decade where anyone thought Donald Trump wasn’t a total scumbag. He stuck with it. He kept hustling, like the carney that he really is. No con can truly be abandoned. The illusion is paramount. That Donald Trump never drops the facade, even in the context of a program like this, is a testament to his commitment to the fraud.

Over the credits for this farcical show, Levin lobbies for more time with our future leader. He just needs 45 minutes to wrap up, but Trump has a date with a person who will do even more to legitimize his rise to power: Tonight Show host Jimmy Fallon.

“Are you friendly with him at all?” Trump asks.

“I don’t really know him,” Levin responds.

Harvey might have good reason to not know Fallon, since his wealth is built on exposing the dark side of celebrities like him.

The thing is, what Donald Trump values more than anything is access, social standing, and who you know. That Levin is not tagging along to the Tonight Show with Trump is anathema. The White House is now the Playboy Club — a den of iniquity for the rich, the famous, and the connected.

If you voted for Donald Trump and thought he was one of you, you have four years to regret your decision.