A fairy tale for Americans and their sorry-assed Trump enablers. 

Once upon a time, in the shadowed kingdom of Veridia, King Malakor reigned with an iron fist. His decrees were cruel, his taxes crushing, all to fund his opulent lifestyle while his people starved.

The Royal Guard enforced his will with brutal efficiency, silencing any dissent with swift punishment. Fear was Malakor’s most potent weapon, and under its oppressive weight, Veridia withered. He took what he pleased—land, goods, even people—and no one dared resist.

Among the suffering was Kael, a farmer who had witnessed too much injustice. The confiscation of his neighbors’ savings, the imprisonment of friends for a careless word, the fading joy in his own children’s eyes—it all became unbearable. One evening, watching his family share a meager meal, a defiant spark ignited within him. He would no longer live in fear.

The next morning, when the royal tax collector demanded yet more grain, Kael stepped forward. "No more," he declared, his voice steady. "We have nothing left to give; our children would starve."

A shocked silence fell. The enraged tax collector ordered Kael’s arrest. But as guards advanced, an elderly woman, Elara, stepped beside Kael. Then a shopkeeper, then a blacksmith, then others, forming a silent, resolute wall.

The guards faltered, unnerved by this unexpected unity. The tax collector, sensing the shift, retreated, vowing to return with force.

News of Kael’s stand spread like wildfire. His courage lit a beacon of hope across Veridia. People began to speak openly, their voices filled with a newfound determination. Inspired, delegations from other villages sought out Kael.

A resistance was born, no longer scattered whispers but an organized movement with the humble farmer as its reluctant leader. They shared resources, trained in secret and planned, their strength growing from their shared purpose.

King Malakor, furious at the reports of open defiance, decided to make an example of Kael’s village. He rode out at the head of his Royal Guard, a cruel smile anticipating an easy victory.

But instead of a cowering village, he found thousands of citizens from across Veridia, armed with tools, bows and an unshakeable resolve. Kael stood before them, a symbol of their collective will.

The battle was fierce. The people fought with the desperation of those with nothing left to lose. Many royal guards, weary of Malakor’s tyranny and seeing their own kin in the crowd, threw down their weapons and joined the uprising.

Malakor’s power crumbled. He tried to flee but was cornered, his reign ending not with a roar but a pathetic whimper. A joyous cheer, long suppressed, erupted from the people.

In the days that followed, representatives gathered. They chose not a new king, but a council elected by the people. Laws were rewritten to ensure fairness and justice. Veridia began to heal. Fields flourished, markets bustled, and laughter became common once more. Kael returned to his farming, his bravery a quiet legend.

And so, the kingdom of Veridia, once a place of despair, thrived in freedom and happiness, forever remembering the courage of one man who dared to say "no more," inspiring a nation to reclaim its future.

It’s a wonderful story about how courage can energize and embolden the downtrodden to confront and end tyranny. But, where are America’s saviors when a dire crisis asks for courage?

Just ask Utah’s Mike Lee and John Curtis. Trump may be an orange monster, devoid of anything resembling a normal, human feeling, but our senators are yellow through and through.

That goes as well for Utah’s four cowardly representatives who, rather than standing up for what they know is right, have become complicit in the president’s treason. Blake Moore, Celeste Maloy, Mike Kennedy, and Burgess Owens are a disgrace to their responsibilities as representatives of the people.

In short, all six of Utah’s federal legislators have no interest in working for Utahns. Their only real commitment is to stay in office and collect their paychecks. They couldn’t care less for the people who got them elected.

The latest example? They’re advancing Trump’s “one, big, beautiful bill”—policies that will be costing us, our children and our grandchildren a comfortable future, besieged by an ever-burgeoning U.S. deficit. There is only one class that will reap the bill’s benefits.

It’s written only for the purpose of feathering Trump’s personal nest and making sure that the corporations and uber-rich keep getting richer, while ordinary Americans are being impoverished by inflation and an endless escalation of America’s staggering debt. There is one thing that’s certain. Unopposed by those who were elected to protect ordinary people, that bill will ensure that there is no real future for the poor and middle class.

I am presenting a challenge to our so-far worthless congressmen and senators: Stop prostituting and protecting your paychecks, and start doing the job you promised to do when you were elected. I think you’ll all be amazed just how contagious courage can be.