I was afraid the October surprise was going to be an act of terrorism on U.S. soil. I thought that ISIS, like Putin, calculated that hothead Trump would better serve its interests than cucumber Clinton. I imagined that her response to an attack would be more like George W. Bush’s bullhorn words (“I can hear you! … And the people who knocked these buildings down will hear all of us soon!”), and Trump’s more like Gen. Curtis LeMay’s (“[W]e’re going to bomb them back to the Stone Age”). At a moment like that, fury can trump steely; rage, I feared, would carry him to the White House.
For some people, Hillary Clinton’s kid-glove treatment by the FBI might just be what pushes them over the edge. They may not tell the pollsters. They may not tell their friends and neighbors. But when they enter the privacy of the voting booth on November 8, they may well decide that Donald Trump—sleazy, offensive and dangerous as he is—may be counted on to do at least one good thing if he is elected: He will throw a bomb under Washington’s smug elites.