Indeed, the image of a brash, unrepentant iconoclast fits in well with Trump’s public persona, one that’s been forming for more than three decades. As a survivor of the Gotham City tabloid wars, as a best-selling author, as a ratings-rich television star, as a man of near-unerring showman instincts, Trump knows how to define himself on his own terms. Watch any video of Trump’s television appearances from the 1980s onward, and note how consistent his presentation has been over the years, from personal and political interests to style. The negative press he’s received along the way (bankruptcies, conflicting wealth estimates, controversial deals, divorces, crude contretemps, birtherism) has had minimal impact on him because it is all part of his chaotic brand. Since June, Trump has tramped headlong into snares that would shred any other candidate, only to Houdini his way out without a significant scratch. For Trump, outrageous affronts and un-P.C. pronouncements are actually part of the impression he wants to project, and his supporters eat it all up. Each time he shrugs off another perceived P.R. disaster, he gets stronger. What his critics view as irresponsible, dangerous demagoguery, his followers translate as authenticity, currently the favored buzzword of the 2016 election and the most coveted attribute.

In Ames, Iowa, in July, moments after Trump famously diminished John McCain’s military service, I asked the billionaire if he thought his campaign or his public image could be harmed by anything he said.

“All I can do is be me,” Trump replied. “I have to be me. If I’m not me, I’m not being true. I’m a very honest person, and I have to be who I am. And people like what I say.”

Trump’s gotta-be-me strategy works in part because he so relentlessly remains on the offense and dominates the campaign dialogue. In terms of pure candidate skills, Trump is a virtuoso—in a few key ways better than even Bill Clinton, especially when aiming to make an opponent lose control of his or her public image. When Trump throws a jibe (often laced with humor), it comes off as something Trump truly believes in his head and his gut, increasing its effectiveness. It consequently resonates with the public as true. And the bluntness of the delivery discombobulates Trump’s targets. The Donald knows when he’s scored a point and stays on it. When he misfires, he adjusts, without the need for focus group testing.

An example of a classic Trump taunt, one that perhaps has had the biggest impact on the race so far, is his repeated wisecrack that Bush is “low-energy.” Although Bush has worked as tirelessly on the campaign trail as anyone in the race, and at times is passionate on the stump, he possesses an innate laconic demeanor, a chilly aspect. Even his admirers get the essence of Trump’s dig, which plays into the psychobabble notion that the former Florida governor is just a watered-down, Jebby-come-lately Bush in a family tree of presidents. Much of the public (and the press) perceives the essence of Trump’s zinger. And, boy, has it thrown Bush off his game. Jeb’s efforts to lash back, first with dignity, then with pique, were off-message and served him ill.