It’s the time of year to recognize the Word of the Year (WOTY), Person of the Year (POTY), Song of the Year (SOTY), and Dance of the Year (DOTY).  This can be accomplished quite simply because there is a common theme:  @realDonaldTrump.  They are: “Fight,” Donald J. Trump, “YMCA,” and the Trump Dance, respectively.

WOTY:  The word “fight” is simple yet powerful, especially when imploring pugnacity against the deep-state enemies of our republic, and their MSM blowhard allies (for starters).  In that context, it deserves special emphasis, like so:  “Fight. Fight, Fight.”  And it deserves special commemoration, perhaps like so.

At many of Trump’s vivacious political rallies, the engrossed audience exuded a unifying group consciousness underpinned by commonsense conservatism.  Almost as spontaneous as the “USA, USA, USA” chorus, were the chants of “Fight, Fight, Fight!” 

It worked.  With the apparatus of government now at least headed (if not totally controlled), by America-loving patriots, we have won the latest battle of the republic.  But the fight is not over.  In her concession-cum-resistance speech, Kamala encouraged her supporters to fight on. Disobedient Dems, including mayors of sanctuary cities, are determined to fight on.  Bring it on. MAGA Americans will continue to fight for America.   We will never surrender.

POTY:  Which leads us to our never-surrendering POTY.  There couldn’t be a more obvious choice -- President Donald J. Trump.  Indeed, it is an underwhelming recognition, for he’s a generational figure who sneered in the face of threats to his freedom, fortune, health, family, and security.

He wasn’t merely “defiant” against would-be assassins (how can someone of his stature be defiant against a pathetic little punk?).  Nope, he was heroic in standing up after a bullet grazed his head.  Many would cower under burly secret service agents, but, with the extent of his injuries undetermined, Trump raised his arm and invoked the WOTY -- thrice. 

He was defiant, however, against the demented Dems, lying legacy media, burrowed bureaucrats, deep state ogres, and injudicious judges in dark robes.  

SOTY:  And for all that, we can celebrate with the catchy tune “YMCA.” I mean blimey, after forty -- forty -- eventful years since the disco era, the song topped the charts due its association with Trump.  I challenge anyone who is ambulatory to listen to it without breaking out into the DOTY.  Other songs have topped the charts this year, but only this one is the SOTY.

DOTY:  Dance of the Year may seem like a peculiar award.  Nevertheless, given the Trump Dance sensation, it’s worth inventing, at least this year, as this dark Dem demagoguery is silenced by bright MAGA optimism.  The Trump Dance gyrations look deceptively simple, but the required rhythm only exudes from those exhibiting the soaring MAGA spirit. To shimmy like this requires a deep sense of American celebration and exceptionalism (even though it’s now viral worldwide).

The dotty Dems are going potty, but there’s no longer a rational reason to be sad this season. Thanks to the POTY invoking the WOTY with such courage, the debilitating Dem affective disorder has been lifted from America’s heartland and soul.  The resultant joy is manifest in the SOTY and DOTY. 

Image: Gage Skidmore