Last week, Donald J. Trump, a man who increasingly resembles a wayward, red-hatted hot air balloon, released what might be the Trumpiest statement ever uttered in the history of mankind. Strolling with Trump on his eponymous California golf course perched on the edge of the Pacific, David Brody of the Christian Broadcasting Network, perhaps a self-flagellating sort, asked the following: “Who is God to you?”

Gird your loins, readers. “Well, I say God is the ultimate,” Trump answered, which was OK as long as it lasted. “You know, you look at this. Here we are on the Pacific Ocean.” Here, he gestured over the greens of the Trump National Golf Club, which are so terrific they will make your head spin, and which I will probably never be allowed to play after writing this column. “How did I ever own this? I bought it 15 years ago.”

Here, presumably, God felt a little miffed, as we were supposed to be talking about Him. I’ll also pause to remind you I am not making this up.

“I made one of the great deals they say ever, this land,” Trump continued, as God sighed, shuffling off. “I have no mortgage on it as you — I will certify and represent to you. And I was able to buy this and, you know, make a great deal. That’s what I want to do for this country. Make great deals. We have to. We have to bring it back.”

Here, there’s a shift in the air, and one can almost see inside the real estate magnate’s brain, with the tiny, well-compensated Conductor Donald yanking a last-minute track switch, heading off the well-greased Trump Railway System and back into uncharted, non-Donald, tumbleweed-strewn wilderness territory. “But God is the ultimate,” he continued. “I mean, God created this. And, you know, here’s the Pacific Ocean right behind us. So, uh, nobody, no thing, no there’s nothing like God.”

Trump on God is often the best, most Trumptastic Trump. In the same interview with Brody, he cited his favorite Bible verse as follows: “Proverbs, the chapter ‘never bend to envy.’ I’ve had that thing all of my life where people are bending to envy.” It’s so absurd and perfect, it’s almost delightful: Trump’s favorite passage in the Bible — which, by the way, doesn’t really exist — has no advice or spiritual wisdom to offer to the man who never apologizes. No, my friends: God is far more concerned, with a deeply furrowed brow, about all the haters and losers who are jealous of the fabulous Donald Trump.

Trump is certainly fabulous, at least for the media. Without Trump, we wouldn’t be able to spend days upon days earnestly discussing the implications of a crazy guy yelling about President Obama being a secret Muslim at a New Hampshire town hall. The hits will likely keep coming; Trump is scheduled to speak at the Values Voter Summit this Friday, with a solid chance that hilarity will ensue.

Trump distracts, meanwhile, from the slow-moving 100-car pileup quietly building on the Democratic side of the aisle. Hillary Clinton’s shady e-mail saga continues to unfold, with the FBI digging away as she continues to demonstrate that she might be the least likable person ever to run for public office in America.

On Sunday’s Face the Nation, asked to describe “the real Hillary Clinton” in three words, she let loose her signature wild, unnatural, over-the-top cackle, then shouted like she’d suddenly lost her hearing: “I’m a real person!” In her puzzling next sentence, she compared herself to a movie star who gets photographed grocery shopping. Hillary freezes up and edges away when crying mothers ask questions at town halls; this week, when asked about Oprah as a candidate for the $10 bill, she joked about Oprah not being dead.

Then we have Bernie Sanders, the actual socialist with shockingly high poll numbers whose proposed programs would cost the United States around $18 trillion, according to a Wall Street Journal tally. Sanders may look and act like a cutesy mad scientist driving a rusty Volvo weighed down with peeling bumper stickers, but he’s gained serious support. He’s also won the devotion of over one hundred celebrities, The Hill reports, including Will Ferrell, Danny DeVito, Steve Wozniak, Patch Adams, and — get ready — “all members of the band Red Hot Chili Peppers.”

You know you’re in bad shape when your potential savior is Joe “Eterna-Gaffe” Biden. While everyone waits for him to step in, the circus moves on — and Trump, like a giant, brass-framed, marble-sculpted Great Wall, hides the bulk of our nation’s left-wing ills. His schtick might finally be getting old; one can only Twitter yell at Megyn Kelly, one hopes, so many times. One thing is certain: The left will sorely miss Trump if he ever rides off into the sunset. They can only hide their own crazies for so long.

Heather Wilhelm is a writer based in Austin, Texas. Her work can be found at http://www.heatherwilhelm.com/ and her Twitter handle is @heatherwilhelm.

The column originally appeared at RealClearPolitics.com on September 24, 2015, and is reprinted with their permission.