Dwain Northey (Gen X)

Oh, gather round children, because it’s time for America’s newest bedtime story: How Freedom of Speech Was Gently Smothered in Its Sleep by the Hug of Authoritarianism. Don’t worry, it’s not scary—well, unless you find the idea of billionaires and thin-skinned politicians controlling your television scary. Spoiler: you should.

Once upon a time, there was a late-night host named Stephen Colbert. He told jokes, sometimes at the expense of the very fragile ego of Dear Leader Donald. But then—oh no!—a corporate merger was in progress, and the deal couldn’t risk upsetting the man whose official title is Most Easily Offended Adult Baby in American History. So, Colbert was “canceled.” Not because his ratings were bad, or because audiences didn’t love him, but because some executive thought, Well, it’d be a shame if this merger got blocked just because our guy made a joke about Donald’s spray tan.

And you know what? That was just fine. Because in America 2.0, we’ve moved beyond silly ideas like “comedy” and “criticism.” Now, comedians exist to flatter politicians, just like in every thriving democracy—oh wait, that’s not democracy, that’s, what’s the word… authoritarianism.

But the story doesn’t end there. Along comes Jimmy Kimmel, another troublemaker. He opened his mouth and said mean, but unfortunately accurate, things about the new patron saint of conservatism: Charlie Kirk. Remember him? The guy who once declared that empathy is weakness but now enjoys being eulogized like a cross between George Washington and a Hallmark card? Yes, him. Kimmel dared to speak the truth, and in today’s America, truth is more offensive than anything else. Boom—off the air he goes.

This is not censorship, though. No, no, no! Don’t call it that. It’s just… corporate synergy. It’s just “protecting shareholders.” It’s just “respecting the feelings of Dear Donald.” After all, when your feelings are as fragile as a Fabergé egg, you need the full weight of corporate America to make sure nobody ever points out you once bankrupted a casino.

The cautionary tale here, kids, is that freedom of speech is alive and well—as long as you only use it to praise the right people. Want to make fun of Democrats? Go ahead! Want to roast the poor, the marginalized, or anybody without a Super PAC? Be my guest! But if you so much as raise an eyebrow at Donald or his newest martyr, suddenly you’re off television faster than Rudy Giuliani can say “Four Seasons Total Landscaping.”

What’s next? Maybe late-night will be replaced by mandatory bedtime programming—The Trump Show: Starring Donald and His Bigly Hands. Every channel, every night, 8 p.m. sharp. Laughter optional, applause mandatory. Maybe comedians will only be allowed to joke about “safe topics” like weather, traffic, and the greatness of Donald’s golf game. And if you don’t laugh? Well, let’s just say you’ll get a knock at your door reminding you of how funny it was.

So yes, children, tonight’s story is about how authoritarianism doesn’t crash through the front door in jackboots. No, it sneaks in softly, through boardrooms and TV networks, disguised as “business decisions.” And before you know it, the only comedy left is watching America pretend it’s still the land of the free while your favorite late-night host is out of a job for telling the truth.

Now close your eyes, America. Dream sweet dreams. Don’t worry—Dear Donald and his corporate guardians of feelings will make sure you never wake up to reality.