Does the man sleep? Or does he hang upside down in the belfry of Trump Tower like some anthropomorphic orange bat, tweeting madly while his aides try to knock the phone out of his hands with long poles and lobbed fistfuls of old brie? That's just one story. The vast collection of all the others accumulated during this deranged toboggan ride could very well hedge the definition of infinity....

The ancient Greeks were masterful at telling tales of doom by hubris. Trump calls to mind Icarus, who flew too close to the sun with waxen wings and fell to his death in the sea. It is almost amusing: Had Trump decided not to run for president, it is almost certain that none of these terrible stories would have come to light, and he could have merrily continued practicing the dark art of being a greedy self-centered jerk until his dying day.

Instead, he lurched for the sun, and now his whole empire is under close scrutiny. The scab is off the wound. Even if he wins in November, which is hardly out of the question, that scrutiny won't cease. Donald Trump may wind up being the first president to be impeached before he learns how to use the phone in the Oval Office. I wonder if his kids are worried about their inheritance. I would be. Remember Wile E. Coyote going off the cliff while holding a sign that read, "Was this trip really necessary?" It's fairly certain a number of people associated with the campaign are thinking exactly that … while wondering if they'll actually get paid.

It's a long way down, Donald. Icarus can tell you all about it. Maybe your wings should have been made of sterner stuff. Maybe you should have simply stayed home. Just another story in Hubris City.