It was only a matter of time. Donald Trump joined Michael Savage’s Tuesday radio show to talk about Antonin Scalia, and the result was . . . exactly what you’d expect:
Savage: Donald, I need to come back to the topic we’ve all been screaming about here, which is Scalia, was he murdered. I know it’s pretty brutal to say that, and I’m not wanting to drag you into this, but this is going to be bigger and bigger and bigger. I went on the air and said we need the equivalent of a Warren Commission, we need an immediate autopsy before the body is disposed of. What do you think of that?
Trump: Well, I just heard today. . . . You know, I just landed and I’m hearing it’s a big topic, the question, and it’s a horrible topic. But they say they found a pillow on his face, which is a pretty unusual place to find a pillow. I can’t tell you — I can’t give you an answer.
Here’s the audio:
As John Kasich would say, geez-oh-man. I wrote yesterday about Trump’s conspiracy-mongering at Saturday’s debate, which at least had the virtue of being a conspiracy about large-scale government deception. This, by contrast, is just Dodi Fayed, second-shooter, Paul McCartney-died-in-1967 lunacy. Soon some blog will report that Scalia thought he was being followed, and Infowars will be doing esoteric readings of Scalia dissents, like Beatles fans with album covers.
How on earth is finding a pillow — wait for it — (1) in a bed (2) next to someone’s face “unusual”? That’d be a pretty unusual place to find a lawnmower or a raw turnip or a bald eagle. Not a crazy place to find a pillow. The owner of Cibolo Creek Ranch has even tried to clarify. According to Jake Tapper, the owner says Scalia’s pillow was “over his head, not over his face . . . against the headboard and over his head.” Of course, it’s not like that will dissuade the relevant audience.
To be fair, I expect Trump doesn’t actually buy into this (although, at this point, who knows?). But if he doesn’t, Why did he go along with it? A: Because, as my colleague Charlie Cooke noted last fall, Donald Trump can’t say No. He doesn’t want to be the party pooper (unless it’s the Republican party), so he hedges: “I can’t say, but . . .” He is completely unable to say, “No, that’s bat-guano crazy!” to even the most completely bonkers idea that’s put in front of him.
That sounds like a good quality in a president.