If only Ben Carson had been in that classroom at Umpqua Community College, the outcome might have been different. The gunman reportedly asked several people their religion, only to be shot regardless of the answer. Carson said he would have been braver than they were.
"Not only would I probably not cooperate with him, I would not just stand there and let him shoot me," he said in an interview on Fox News Channel. "I would say, 'Hey, guys, everybody attack him. He may shoot me, but he can't get us all.' "
Carson has never had to face a homicidal maniac training a gun barrel on him, but he has no doubt that if he did, he would respond with courage and resolve. Maybe he would. Maybe the 18 people shot last week simply lacked his unflinching nerve in the face of death. Maybe if he had been there, he would have saved them.
More likely, though, is that he's living on a different planet. Evidence abounds that Carson maintains only intermittent contact with reality. He resembles Lewis Carroll's White Queen, who told Alice, "Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."
Some voters think a Carson presidency is neither impossible nor undesirable. In the latest Wall Street Journal/NBC News poll in Iowa, he has 19 percent of the Republican vote, second only to Donald Trump.
These supporters may like his story: a poor African-American — raised in Detroit by an illiterate single mother — who grew up to attend Yale and become a neurosurgeon, the first one ever to separate twins conjoined at the head. They may like that he embraces conservative themes without reservation.
They may be pleased that as a black man who sounds just like a white tea party conservative, he absolves conservatives of any possible racial prejudice. Herman Cain filled the same role four years ago.
But they may also like Carson for his habit of believing impossible things that validate their extreme ideology. Carson is proof that when it comes to Republican primary voters, ridiculous statements are the price of admission.