Fuming

The guy at my Socrates Cafe conversation group is fuming. His hands are twitching, grabbing at his pants, squeezing together. His breathing is labored, his forehead sweating. The man is impatiently waiting his turn to speak. When he does speak, he goes on forever, a monologue morphing into a diatribe. He rambles, asks rhetorical questions, stumbles over words, ends thoughts in the middle. He is convinced we're ganging up on him. "You misunderstand me." That is his mantra. "Don't interrupt me" is what he tells the moderator, a quiet, graying man, soft spoken and adept at avoiding confrontation. "You are in a position of power and you keep interrupting."
Sometimes Mr. Fume loses his breath and has to pause. His points are almost interesting, even if you disagree, but his abrasive behavior is making us uncomfortable. I saw him take the decaf coffee, so caffeine can't be his problem. If he is unstable or on medication that is not working, how do we deal with it? "Define your terms" is another phrase he repeats. Values, culture, The Constitution, these are his blockade points. We spend many minutes defining what should be obvious and take forever to reach the actual topic we're supposed to be discussing, which in this case, is immigration.
I tried placating him by noting he brings up good points, but that only serves to aggravate him more. He wants to rant the entire two hours while we listen. We have a deranged dictator in the room and the citizens are in a quandary about how to depose him, beyond locking him in the closet.