Peggy Noonan is an embarrassment as a pundit. The poor girl must be pretty well half-baked every time she sits down to bat out a column of political pontifications. She has no keel whatsoever. Whatever disaster for the Republic or mass insanity is underway, Peggy falls madly in love with.

In 2008, Peggy was flinging her panties onto the stage at Obama rallies, and gravely advising Republicans and conservatives that “the times they were a-changing” and we had better get with the program and move with the times. The GOP was, Peggy said, a neglected, out-of-fashion and unloved old house. Barack Obama, on the other hand, was the most exciting thing Peggy had ever seen.

It’s a tale of two houses. One is dilapidated, old. Everyone in the neighborhood is used to it, and they turn away when they pass. A series of people lived in it and failed to take care of it. It’s run down, needs paint. The roof sags, squirrels run through the eaves. A haunted house! No, more boring. Just a house someone . . . let go.

But over here, a new house on a new plot. It’s rising from the mud before your eyes. It has interesting lines, a promising façade, and when people walk by they stop and look. So much bustle! Builders running in and out, the contractors fighting with each other—”You wouldn’t even have this job if it weren’t for the minority set-aside!” And everyone hates the architect, who put a port-o-potty on the lawn.

But: You can’t take your eyes off it. “Something being born, and not something dying.” Maybe it will improve the neighborhood. Maybe the owners will be nice.

A year later, Peggy was a loyal member of the Republican opposition again, warning Barack Obama that in his ruthless drive to ram through the nationalization of one-sixth of the US economy he was “terrifying America.”

But, even with Peggy dumping regularly on Obama throughout the 2012 campaign, Jeff Goldstein found it difficult to forgive Peggy Noonan for supporting Obama in 2008.

[O]ne of the women who helped guilt the American people into electing a transformative Marxist with a dubious background and no governing experience, a man who, after his drug-addled youth, hung out with domestic terrorists, academic (and activist) anti-Semites, and got his religious counsel from a man steeped in hatred of Whites and Jews, as head of the free world — while simultaneously sneering down her nose at figures like Sarah Palin, who has proven over the course of time to be every bit as prescient as Ms Noonan was bamboozed, hoodwinked, and gloriously conned — is now writing to tell us the President is not who he promised he’d be. As if we haven’t been alive the last five years, or as if we were the ones whose snobbery and reflected egoism caused us to buy this charlatan’s obvious and vapid bullshit in the first place.

And, here in 2016, we find Peggy at it again, jumping on the chariot of transformative change and sneering at the old fogey skeptics trying to resist the mandate of History.

If you know Trump people in real life as opposed to through social media, if they are your friends and family members, you understand that “rage” doesn’t do them justice. They dislike the Republican Party, which they believe has consistently betrayed them, but Trump people in person are just about the only cheerful people in politics this year. They actually have hope—the system needs a hard electric shock, he’s just the man to do it, and if it doesn’t work they’ll fire him. They’re having a good time. Here I throw in a moment I had in Manhattan Thursday afternoon. I was standing on a corner on York Avenue in the 60s when a cab screeched across two lanes to stop in front of me. “I am voting for Trump!” the driver yelled through an open window. “You want to know why? He is neither right or left!” He then laughed and sped on. Not all Trump supporters are quiet about it.

Peggy even has some advice for Trump opponents:

Those who oppose Mr. Trump should do it seriously and with respect for his supporters. If he is not conservative, make your case and explain what conservatism is. No one at this point needs your snotty potshots or your supposedly withering one-liners. I confess I have lost patience with many of those declaring they cannot in good conscience support him, not because reasons of conscience are not crucial—they are, and if they apply they should be declared. But some making these declarations managed in good conscience, indeed with the highest degree of self-regard, to back the immigration proposals of George W. Bush that contributed so much to the crisis that produced Mr. Trump. They invented Sarah Palin. They managed to support the global attitudes and structures that left the working class jobless. They dreamed up the Iraq war.

Sometimes I think their consciences are really not so delicate.

As for the political consultants who insult Mr. Trump so vigorously, they are the ones who did most to invent him. What do they ever do in good conscience?

I’m supposed to “respect” empty-headed, ill-informed amadans who don’t follow politics, who can’t understand policy, who think pragmatism is better than having principles, and who are, once again, hurrying to make a Pop Culture Celebrity the chief magistrate of the Republic, who want to sit Bozo the Clown in the same chair once occupied by Reagan and by Washington?

I don’t look on the voting decision in 2016 as so much a matter of conscience as of common sense. No one sensible ought to be willing to support a person of bad character, a person of low intelligence, a person manifestly unprincipled, or a person lacking in a sophisticated understanding of government policy. No one of normal intelligence ought to be willing to support an obvious charlatan, a shameless liar, a vulgarian, or a bully. If you think that the remedy for the excesses of bad politics and popular delusions is to find a noiser, coarser, and less-inhibited clown and put the country in his hands, there is something seriously wrong with you.

Peggy Noonan is drunk and should go home, and so should the rest of the people supporting Donald Trump.