Absurdly Driven looks at the world of business with a skeptical eye and a firmly rooted tongue in cheek.
You've probably chuckled once or twice at the political philosophies of Donald Trump.
You might be chuckling because you think him faintly risible, or you might be chuckling because finally a so-called politician is being a perfect non-politician by releasing everything that's actually in his head.
Even if it's self-contradictory. Even if it's insulting, asinine, or racist.
Donald Trump now has a famous admirer. Yes, there's Ted Nugent. But he's famous for, oh, please don't get me started. No, famous Shark Mark Cuban has declared Trump a marvel. Of sorts.
Business Insider reports that he took to his CyberDust app to toss a little approval rating Trump's way.
He said: "I don't care what his actual positions are. I don't care if he says the wrong thing. He says what's on his mind. He gives honest answers rather than prepared answers. This is more important than anything any candidate has done in years."
He added: "Smart people who didn't live perfect lives could never run. Smart people who didn't want their families put under the media spotlight wouldn't run. The Donald is changing all of that. He has changed the game and for that he deserves a lot of credit."
But, wait, Trump did occasionally put his family under the media spotlight. Two of his kids appeared in The Apprentice.
Still, you must decide what game Trump has changed. The Game of Drones that is politics? The Game of Thrones that is the Republican Party race? Or perhaps the Game of Trumps, in which he attempts to become the world's most famous person for being a famous person?
Businesspeople don't have a wonderful record in politics. Whether it's Mitt Romney or Carly Fiorina, all too often they still appear as if they're talking to corporate boards and bored executives, rather than to real human beings with real, elemental frustrations.
Trump behaves in a way that quite a few people wish (privately, of course) they could. They wish they could stand in a bar and spout their own self-contradictory twaddle. (Oh, all right. Some people already do that. But usually only on Friday nights.)
They wish they could say what they see, as opposed to what they think people want to hear.
And they wish they could walk up to their boss and tell him exactly what they think.
I suspect, though, that Trump's employees might not be too fond of telling him what they really think. I suspect there wouldn't be too much joy in that.
If the evidence of those who appeared with him on The Apprentice is anything to go by, their opinions tended to be in rather miraculous line with the patriarch's own.
I certainly don't remember Trump's son, who occasionally appeared with him at the boardroom table, offering: "Dad, you're completely bonkers and it's time someone told you that. Because if they don't, you're going to get a lot more bonkers as you get older."
Perhaps, then, Cuban is right. There's a certain refreshing, even game-changing quality about Trump's excursion into politics.
There's a mischievous joy in watching a predominantly liberal media squirm as it foams at the microphone and gulps at the laptop keyboard.
There's also a sniggering pleasure in watching stalwarts of the Republican Party appearing unable to stall Trump from revealing their very largest warts, the ones that no one on their side dares talk about.
What, though, is Trump doing for the image of businesspeople?