Or to not have a mind at all. Dan Quayle, do you now feel you were ahead of your time or just prescient?
In a way I love that Trump is now a whirling dervish of sweaty orange blubber spinning out of control as he switches back and forth through all of his random excuses as to why he took all of those Top Secret documents. He's throwing all his excuses against the wall in order to see which childish defense attempts might stick and practically every Republican you could possibly name is desperately trying to help him since they're all in, up to the crowns of their skulls in his insanity and have no desire to get off the ride.
I love it because his supporters feel that they must parrot whatever he says even when it contradicts what he, and they, said six hours before or makes whatever he said eight hours before sound even more insane than it already did. The result is that his defenders appear to be, with good reason, just as insane as their pasty face orange guru is. It's like watching a bunch of rodeo clowns run out into the ring to clean up the bullshit not by sweeping it up but by eating it and saying "Hmmm, that sure is some tasty shit!" Then they ask if it's available in a shower gel.