In a purple state, unlike in Brooklyn, N.Y., or Palo Alto, Calif., these differences press in on each other. Conversations occur that break through ideological lines. Grand Junction, in western Colorado, voted for Trump at the last election. There, I spoke to Robert Babcox, a pastor, who praised the president for sticking to his campaign promises and, “for all the bravado,” getting the economy revved up.

Babcox called the ban on high-capacity gun magazines that hold more than 15 rounds, signed into law by John Hickenlooper, the Democratic governor who has presidential aspirations, “a silly law.” The pastor said he could drive across the nearby border into Utah and buy a high-capacity magazine. He said the Second Amendment was designed to create a militia “equal to the government to ensure self-reliance,” and that therefore the ban on the magazines should be overturned. He said, “If I can limit somebody on what weapons they can buy, why would I not be able to limit what you can say about me under the First Amendment? When we endanger one right, we endanger them all.”

Words don’t kill, I said. Some things are worse than death, he said. So, I asked, Trump’s great? No, the pastor said. He only trusted Trump “to a degree.” Someone should take away his cellphone, he said. Americans can come together, he said, praising John F. Kennedy. “I served in the Navy,” he said. “I saw so many taken before their time — white, black, Hispanic. It all hurt me just the same, and they all bled red, and that lesson stayed with me.”

The thing about all the shocking Trump revelations — Michael Cohen’s about violating campaign finance laws by paying hush money to two women in coordination with a “candidate for federal office” being the latest — is that they are already baked into Trump’s image. His supporters, and there are tens of millions of them, never had illusions. I’ve not met one, Babcox included, who did not have a pretty clear picture of Trump. They’ve known all along that he’s a needy narcissist, a womanizer, a lowlife, a liar, a braggart and a generally miserable human being. That’s why the “Access Hollywood” tape or the I-could-shoot-somebody-on-Fifth-Avenue boast did not kill his candidacy.

It’s also why the itch to believe that the moment has come when everything starts to unravel must be viewed warily. Sure, Trump sounds more desperate. But who’s the enforcer if Trump has broken the law? It’s Congress — and until things change there (which could happen in November) or Republicans at last abandon a policy of hold-my-nose opportunism, Trump will ride out the storm.