“Kamala, you’re fired!” shouted Donald Trump. Then he pleaded: “You’re fired. Get out. Get out. Get out, Kamala!” The crowd cheered at his rally on 26 August in Glendale, Arizona, as though approving his order. But the invocation of the magic words he recited at the climax of every episode of The Apprentice failed to make her phantom disappear. Trump’s advisers sneak policy material into his stump speech that he must read as it scrolls on his teleprompter. They want to channel him into speaking about “the issues”. But he has revolted against them and “the issues”. “They always say, ‘Sir, please stick to policy, don’t get personal,” he complained to a rally. He turned to his Maga masses to give him license. “Should I get personal, or should I not get personal?” The crowd cheered as he knew it would. It was the poll result he wanted. “My advisers are fired!” Trump’s narcissism is his grand strategy. No adviser trying to calibrate him to polls can dislodge it. Both Kamala Harris and his advisers constrain and threaten him. He views the vice-president’s presence as an injustice. He had beaten Joe Biden. His withdrawal and her emergence were the implementation of the far-right replacement theory. The entire scenario has left Trump on the stage in a play for which his only new lines added to the script are that he is transparently faking it to be sort of for abortion before he is against it as he always was. He announced he will vote to uphold a ban after six weeks in Florida and against the state’s abortion referendum to overturn it. He cries that he is the victim, as he is always the victim when he does not get his way. His irrepressible impulse is to trash the woman. The advisers who seek to tamp him down are his adversaries. Trump believes in the marrow of his bones that his intuition, his sixth sense, is his secret power. Acting out has been his winning ticket. He is certain that is why his moment came and why it must come again. He gives no credence to circumstances or any other person, which would diminish him. He has achieved godlike status by being true to himself. It’s not just that he’s incapable of being other than himself, but that he feels it is the only way he’s won. He’s extinguished self-doubt, if he ever entertained it. He can’t be anything else. At his core, he believes idolatry of his personality is the key to his success. Without it, he is obliterated. He can never accept losing, being the loser. “We will never give up, we will never concede,” he told the crowd assembled on January 6. “It doesn’t happen.” Now against a candidate of change (a woman), his resistance to change (attacking the woman) is his only way to cling to his authenticity. Above all, he fears self-neutralization. If he cannot act out, he’s a nullity to himself, his most terrifying prospect. Anything that could be construed as criticism threatens his manhood, his mental equilibrium and evokes a reflexively hostile response. It is an impossible task to pry him away from his impulses, especially when it’s a survival instinct. His advisers’ version of “the issues” is a straight and narrow negative campaign to stain his opponents, combined with deceptive flip-flops to smudge Trump’s position on abortion. They want clean distortions and falsehoods without Trump’s accompanying mess. The architect of his ratfucking operation, Chris LaCivita, was behind the Swift Boat lies about war hero John Kerry in 2004, funded by the far-right billionaire Harlan Crow, who happens to be the big-hearted benefactor of Clarence Thomas. LaCivita has hoped to repeat his mudslinging triumph now against Tim Walz in order to undermine an alternative example of masculinity. Trump, however, keeps stumbling over his campaign’s well-laid smears. The more his advisers attempt to curb him, the more he acts out to reassert his essential nature under pressure from within his campaign. His discontent has led him to bring back his oft-disgraced goon, Corey Lewandowski, who allegedly physically assaulted a female reporter during the 2016 campaign and sexually molested the wife of a major Republican donor in 2021, among other lowlights. (Prosecutors ultimately declined to charge Lewandowski in the first case; in the second he was fined and sentenced to community service and “impulse control training” after accepting a plea deal without admitting guilt.) Lewandowski claims to be the genius who invented the slogan “Let Trump Be Trump.” Trump has brought him back from his political planet Pluto as an enabler to help him avoid impulse control. Trump is on the horns of a dilemma. If he is advised that to save himself he must deny himself, he will feel that he must deny the advice to save himself. He can’t respond to a different world. His “greatness” is to reject the modern and now normal world to be led by a mixed-race woman who is also a relentless prosecutor bringing the political case against him. He’s increasingly deviant. His campaign must be to define Trump down. He must force her into subservience. Harris is an exponentially greater threat to Trump than E Jean Carroll. The Carroll defamation judgment didn’t strip him of his manhood, but could be interpreted as an affirmation: the adjudicated rapist as alpha dog. Losing to Harris would be the extinction of his virility. She compounds his existential crisis. If he loses, he will not be able to use presidential powers to be a criminal on the loose. The federal cases against him will proceed, even if the US supreme court has eviscerated the constitution in granting him “absolute” official immunity for attempting to overthrow the government. A defeated Trump will face years of trials, undoubtedly receive guilty verdicts and likely jail time. He will be a depleted convict. His fear of his fate accelerates his impulses to lie, smear and violate all norms to an uncontrollably frantic level. An aide of Trump’s, or possibly two, even allegedly physically assaulted a female employee to get the photo-op of him giving a thumbs-up over a grave in a forbidden section at Arlington National Cemetery. Trump’s spokesman smeared her as “clearly suffering from a mental health episode”, while LaCivita, drawing on his Swift Boat playbook, dubbed her “despicable”. The woman declined to file charges, reportedly out of fear of retaliation. Harris has become the personification of “nasty” women to Trump. She encompasses the women beyond his decayed appeal who do not aspire to be his ornaments and are therefore his tormentors. He naturally wants to reduce all women to vulnerable and undefended figures he can subjugate at will in a Bergdorf Goodman dressing room, or leap on by surprise in a Bel Air hotel suite. His explanation of his charm in the Hollywood Access tape was that as a star he was irresistible to women who allowed him to “grab ’em by the pussy”. But the Carroll and Stormy Daniels cases have exposed his methods, punished and humiliated him. As Daniels testified in the trial for which he was convicted for 34 felonies: “Was it brief?” “Yes.” For Trump, that was a worse judgment than the convictions for business fraud. The thrill is gone. Trump’s need to assault Harris is even more intense than it was toward Hillary Clinton. In 2016, Trump hadn’t been president before. He launched his bid as a branding exercise that went haywire. Now, he’s desperate to claw back his lost status, not least to gain the pardon power to remove the extensive federal charges against him. His restoration, which he thought was a snap until 21 July, when Biden withdrew, has been interrupted by a dangerous woman he can’t subdue and an allure he can’t fathom. Harris is a mystery woman to him. The campaign is astoundingly abbreviated. He lacks time to rehearse a degrading story to drag her down. The media, despite frequently leaning on the mindless formula of false equivalence, doesn’t seem in the same gleeful mood to join in his rampant cruelty that it was in 2016. Yet even the fair-minded Dana Bash of CNN in her interview of Harris felt compelled to earnestly ask her reaction to Trump’s racist claim that she had “turned Black” for political purposes as if it were a legitimate question. “Same old tired playbook,” Harris replied. “Next question.” Her succinct dismissal instantly reduced Trump to an exhausted, sputtering blowhard past his sell date. The younger woman swipes left. Trump has a preternatural sense it’s slipping away. The gift of the demagogue is to grasp the currents of the masses that he can exploit for his self-aggrandizement. His compulsion to attack Harris increases every day his invective falls flat. He began with a twisted pronunciation of her name, then called her “Kamabla” and moved to “Comrade Kamala”. Baffled by her self-assurance, he did not rely on his usual stable of insults hurled at those women who had testified to his sexual assaults: “horseface”, “face of a pig”, “crazed, crying lowlife”, “dog”. Trump could not surprise her as he did the young women in the Miss USA and Miss Teen USA beauty pageants he owned when he barged into the dressing rooms. “You know, they’re standing there with no clothes,” he told Howard Stern in 2005. “‘Is everybody OK?’ And you see these incredible-looking women. And so I sort of get away with things like that.” But what can the predatory voyeur now “get away with”? Before the Democratic convention, Trump began bargaining with his Maga masses about the terms on which he should assault Harris. He warily circled her. “Don’t ever call a woman beautiful, because that’ll be the end of your political career, please,” he said mockingly. Trump started to circulate debasing sexual innuendo about Harris on 18 August with a retweet of a video consisting of a warped version of Alanis Morissette’s song Ironic to suggest that Harris became the Democratic presidential nominee through oral sex: “She spent her whole damn life / Down on her knees / To be commander in chief / That’s how you say please / Isn’t it moronic …” The video depicts Harris holding a sign reading, “I Am A Moron.” Then the face of Willie Brown, the former speaker of the California assembly, whom she once dated, pops up behind a sofa on which she is sitting with her husband, Doug Emhoff. Trump continued his obsessive theme on 29 August, retweeting a picture of Harris and Hillary Clinton with the caption: “Funny how blowjobs impacted both their careers differently.” Trump’s campaign of sexual insinuation that launched with the phony Morissette song has been reliant on a far-right, mainly anonymous social media group called the Dilley Meme Team, which advertises itself as producing “the dankest memes and original content for Maga brands and campaigns”. During the Republican primaries, the group made crude videos of Nikki Haley as a prostitute and Casey DeSantis, the wife of Ron DeSantis, as a pornographic actor. It also created a video of Biden as a pedophile. The group was behind a video that Trump retweeted in May hailing his return to power with a mock newspaper headline proclaiming the “Creation of a Unified Reich”. Trump has worked closely on these productions, “privately communicated with members of the meme team, giving them access and making specific requests for content”, according to the New York Times. Trump’s quandary is that in trying to demean Harris, his old techniques have lost their fascination. Now he perceives himself as the nervous contestant in a beauty pageant. “But I say that I am much better-looking. I’m a better-looking person than Kamala.” “They said, ‘No, her biggest advantage is that she’s a beautiful woman.’ I’m going, huh? I never thought of that. I’m better-looking than she is.” If this is a fairytale, he’s the jealous evil witch from Snow White. Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all? After Harris strode on to the stage of the Democratic national convention in a navy blue suit radiating confidence and expressing command, he fretted about his waning attractiveness. “I was sort of like a hot guy. I was hot as a pistol. I think I was hotter than I am now, and I became president. OK. I don’t know. I said to somebody, was I hotter before or hotter now? I don’t know. Who the hell knows?” Time and again, Trump repeats that Harris is “not smart” and “not very smart”, which only reveals his insecurity about facing her in a debate he has variously refused and accepted. His campaign’s insistence that his microphone be shut off only underscores his advisers’ dread of his unmonitored mouth. After her CNN interview, he accused her both of being “boring” – that is, he couldn’t figure out a point of criticism – and of “rambling incoherence”, his obvious projection. “I think I am entitled to personal attacks,” he says. “I do not have a lot of respect for her. I don’t have a lot of respect for her intelligence, and I think she’ll be a terrible president … And whether the personal attacks are good, bad – I mean, she certainly attacks me personally. She actually called me weird. ‘He’s weird.’ She’s not smart. I don’t believe she loves our country. Some people say, ‘Oh, why don’t you be nice?’ But they’re not nice to me. They want to put me in prison. They don’t want me to be a little bit nasty. They want to put me in prison. Me!” Sidney Blumenthal, former senior adviser to Bill and Hillary Clinton, has published three books of a projected five-volume political life of Abraham Lincoln: A Self-Made Man, Wrestling With His Angel and All the Powers of Earth. He is a Guardian US columnist