Nobody who watched He, Trump throw a public nutty in Cincinnati on Wednesday night can conclude anything beyond the fact that the Republican Party is preparing to nominate for president someone who has left the rails so far behind that he couldn't look back and see them anymore than the umpires could use the Juno spacecraft out by Jupiter to judge a close play at first base in tonight's game between the Brewers and the Nationals. The ship, in the immortal words of Micheal Ray Richardson, be sinking.

This isn't even a close call any more. Even The New York Times can't wave the Great Wand of Objectivity and make the obvious derangement of the presumptive Republican nominee disappear any more.

In the span of 30 minutes, an often-shouting Mr. Trump breathed new life into a controversy that was sparked on Saturday by his posting of an image on his Twitter account of a six-pointed star next to a picture of Hillary Clinton, with money seeming to rain down in the background. The image was quickly, and broadly, criticized for invoking stereotypes of Jews. Mr. Trump deleted it two hours later, and replaced the star image with a circle. " 'You shouldn't have taken it down,' " Mr. Trump recalled telling one of his campaign workers. "I said, 'Too bad, you should have left it up.' I would have rather defended it." "That's just a star," Mr. Trump said repeatedly. It was a striking display of self-sabotage from a presumptive presidential nominee and underscored the limitations of Mr. Trump's scattershot approach during the Republican primaries—not to mention how difficult he often makes it for his campaign team to control him.

The controversy over the anti-Semitic tweet? That was other people "racially profiling" him.

At one point, Mr. Trump lamented that his youngest child, Barron, "draws stars all over the place." He continued, "I never said, 'That's the Star of David, Barron, don't!' " At another, he swatted at a mosquito that landed on his lectern and said he never liked the insects, before adding, "Speaking of mosquitoes, hello, Hillary. How are you doing?"

Bughouse. The man is literally bughouse. He shouldn't be nominated.

He should be comfortably lodged in some nice nervous hospital somewhere at least until they can get the voices in his head singing in some approximation of harmony. Some speakers go off on tangents. He's nothing but a tangent. Defending himself by slandering a Disney movie? Taking swipes at my man Chuck Todd's sleepy eyes?

This content is imported from Twitter. You may be able to find the same content in another format, or you may be able to find more information, at their web site.

Where is the outrage for this Disney book? Is this the 'Star of David' also?

Dishonest media! #Frozen pic.twitter.com/4LJBpSm8xa — Donald J. Trump (@realDonaldTrump) July 7, 2016

Nuclear codes? I wouldn't let this guy know my zip code. This is a man in need of careful watching. He's one small step from a milk crate in Washington Square.

Click here to respond to this post on the official Esquire Politics Facebook page.

Charles P. Pierce Charles P Pierce is the author of four books, most recently Idiot America, and has been a working journalist since 1976.

This content is created and maintained by a third party, and imported onto this page to help users provide their email addresses. You may be able to find more information about this and similar content at piano.io