The most appalling and troubling spectacle of the American Left’s bag of tricks is their refusal to simply tell the truth. Democratic representative Frederica Wilson, who resembles both a rodeo clown and a pimp from the movie Shaft, said that President Trump has a brain disorder because he told a widow whose husband died in the Special Forces that: “ he knew what he signed up for… but it hurts when it happens anyway.”

What’s wrong with that statement? Absolutely nothing. It does not detract an iota from the sadness and somberness of the man’s death, but it is true. What else would someone believe being in the Special Forces entailed? An intense game of Scrabble? Ferocious flour sack races at dusk? Death is on the menu.

Because of the deranged pearl clutching over someone telling the truth these days, President Trump has been prompted to deny this statement.  Another sunk cost of resources and time (the taxpayers pay for all this, remember?) where someone has to slow walk out of a statement because they said what actually is.

A schadenfreude that is fun when insomnia strikes is to watch clips of smug Hillary voters on Election Night around 9 P.M. Eastern Time. In an accurate use of the word, they are gobsmacked that Trump delivered a thrashing to big, bad Hillary.

How could they not know that Hillary Clinton would lose when she has the trustworthiness of saltwater crocodile circling a basket of pug puppies? Even undecided voters loathed her. But her supporter’s disbelief and outrage is genuine. Why is that?

The American Left’s entire political discourse is built on false language. Lies. Trickery. Fallacies. Where words do not mean what they actually mean. Where one cannot actually state the nature of an issue, in plain and common language, without being called a racist, white supremacist, fascist, homophobic, misogynist knuckle-dragger that deserves to have their head bashed with a threaded lead pipe.

Even though they are uncomfortable, facts are what we must have to survive as a country. Being a Special Forces soldier in sub-Saharan Africa is the definition of danger. One’s gender does not change on a random Tuesday when a man feels the inexplicable need to wear a Laura Ashley dress and smear blush over his beard stubble, or woman wants to shave her head, push a tube sock down her pants and call herself Tanner.

The people who need to be told Black Lives Matters are other blacks, the gang-bangers who fire off guns with the casualness we would buy a coffee and cheese Danish. Areas where large populations of blacks live are inherently unsafe, and even other blacks flee from these neighborhoods the day they have the necessary funds. (See the Obamas vacationing in Necker Island and Bali, and living in swanky, white parts of D.C and California, as opposed to the Baltimore Sandtown projects or Haiti).

That as gloomy as their plight may be, America does not have the resources to shelter immigrants, feed their children, and absorb their medical care as they send billions of untaxed dollars back to their relatives in Oaxaca. That a burkha is a symbol of dreadful oppression. That whites not willing to take responsibility for every act of savagery on the planet and known history are not white supremacists. 

If you cannot identify a problem with honesty, how do you fix it? What relationship ever flourished because one party had a relentless commitment to an agenda of deceit? 

Politically correct language is obscene because it is a language whose entire purpose is to swindle. Hurting someone’s tender feelings has become social leprosy, and anyone who is brave enough to speak truth will find themselves shunned by the elites who shape the narrative and hand out the goodies.

Because the only currency the Left values is stridently not calling something exactly as it is, they could not understand how to advise Hillary on how to be the one thing voters want most of all: to be sincere.

What if Hillary had taken the stage at the election debate where Trump gathered a group of women who stated they had been victims of Bill Clinton’s frantic machinations to get laid and said this:

I see you up there. I have been married to this old hound dog so long -- it was just easier to stay. Shared histories, entangled finances.  He is a pervert. I was a snake to throw the intern Monica under the bus. But, I am old school, and believe marriage is for life. Going forward, I will do everything I can to make sure women have a place at the table. His disgusting behavior will in no way affect my leadership of this country.

World-shattering. The stuff of legends. Huma Abedin would have tackled her on stage to inject her in the neck with Xanax. The pundits would have trampled little old ladies in patriotic blue glitter hats to get to their laptops and cameras to rabidly macerate her speech for months.  

But she might have won.

Her tremendous ego and innate pig nature kept her from being honest and humble. Because to be honest is to be humble. To state that President Trump is humble at first blush sounds delusional.  But he is humble, and therefore honest; about the difficulties he is having with both sides of Congress and the media. He uses his Twitter account as a VPN line to tunnel through the false narrative to tell us what is really happening as he presides.

With a huge set of conjones, he gave the voters what everyone wants: blistering, searing honesty. Sometimes, waiting on a plane to take off or for my elderly dog to do his business in the rain, I imagine what I would do if granted five wishes. One of my wishes would be the super-power to force people to tell the truth.

Give it to me naked, raw, and wriggling. We all just want the painful facts. No one wants to be cheated; when someone deliberately withholds facts to your disadvantage and their advantage. We want it from our romantic partners, our families, our employers and the politicians who are paid with our money to make grave decisions that impact our lives.

Let us see how the sausage is made in government and in corporate America. We need to hear the pig squeal and watch the blood flow, as unsettling and barbaric as it may be. Let us decide if we want to eat the corn dog, or not.

The American Left cannot grasp this certainty: as long as President Trump continues to tell the American public the truth, none of their slanders, concocted spy stories or the daily sneering disrespect shown to millions of voters matter to us.

For with every unpolished, uncooked, honest Tweet that President Trump sends out in the early morning hours into the vast American darkness, we are rooting for him with every move he makes.