TOTALLY

President Trump stood outside the White House defending Republican senatorial candidate Roy Moore, the man accused of molesting young girls when he was in his early thirties. "He denies the allegations," Trump said.

"What's more," Trump added, interrupting a reporter's follow-up, "he totally denies them."

I'm glad he cleared that up, because now it would be impossible for Moore to be guilty of anything. The word "totally" puts that possibility to bed for good.

It's like when O.J. Simpson pleaded to murder charges: "Absolutely, one hundred percent not guilty," which is clearly way better than a simple "not guilty."

(And it worked out fine for him.)

We often feel a need to go out on a limb to make our points. Ordinary language fails to express our emphatic reality.

Like they say in action movies: "This shit just got real!"

(Might've been Bad Boys.)

According to Trump, the new tax-cut bill is going to bite his financial butt hard. "Believe me!" he can't help saying. "Believe me" appears to be a tell he's got for when he lies.

(If you really want to back up your statement, it's simple: Release your taxes!)

Pumping up language is a widespread process used by humans to augment reality. It's like we don't have time to pay attention to words that haven't been properly hyped. The least nudge on a crowded street has to be described as a "vicious attack" or it won't be believed. ("Vicious attack" is another of Trump's favorite phrases.)

Our view of reality is not just slippery, it's encrusted with superlatives.

Which is a problem, because we can't solve the very real problems of the world without being able to see the world with precision. And seeing the world as it is will never be possible as long as we're unable to describe what we see without substituting hyperbole for everyday expression.

If you keep raising the bar, nobody will be able to see the damned thing, let alone get over it.