We’re drowning in ABSOLUTELYs. Forty-seven times in one day. I counted. That’s either a linguistic epidemic or we’ve all joined the same cult.

My new song “ABSOLUTELY!” is a Randy Newman-style piano tantrum about how ordering water now gets the same theatrical enthusiasm as a marriage proposal. We’re giving “110%,” calling breadsticks “life-changing,” and cashiers sound “ABSOLUTELY HONORED” we used self-checkout. The weatherman is “ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN” about a 60% chance of rain. Your neighbor’s “ABSOLUTELY HEARTBROKEN” because the Wi-Fi cut out during a YouTube ad.

This is linguistic acid rain—every word a superlative, nothing meaning anything. The song tracks my descent from mild irritation to full psychological spiral, complete with a manic bridge where I just scream “ABSOLUTELY!” at strangers.

It’s a sonic protest against the linguistic arms race. No, it’s not ABSOLUTELY EARTH-SHATTERING—but at least it means what it says.