Donald Trumpâs proximity to Jeffrey Epstein is no longer a rumor whispered on the internet. On Friday, the Wall Street Journal dropped a bombshell. They reported that in 2003, Donald Trump sent Jeffrey Epstein a birthday letter for his 50th birthday, a letter that was explicitly sexually suggestive. Let that sink in. The former president of the United States sending a sexually charged birthday note to a convicted sex trafficker. Itâs hard to imagine a more grotesque footnote in modern political history.
And while that story was breaking, something else was happening at the exact same time. Donald Trump was being booed. Not once. Not twice. But across the world, in multiple packed stadiums, on the same day. From London to New Jersey, crowds erupted in jeers at the mere mention of Trump and his regime. At the O2 Arena in London, during an NBA game, the audience booed loudly during the U.S. national anthem. Someone shouted, âLeave Greenland alone.â This wasnât fringe outrage. This was public, global rejection.

At the same time, CBS wanted you to believe that what happened next was just business. A âfinancial decision.â Nothing more. But what happened to Stephen Colbert is not what CBS claims, and itâs not what Trump is celebrating on Truth Social. What happened to Colbert is what happens when you speak truth to power in Trumpâs America. And when you follow the timeline, the pattern becomes impossible to ignore.
On July 14th, 2025, Stephen Colbert returned from summer vacation. That night, he delivered a blistering monologue aimed directly at his own employer. Paramount, the parent company of CBS, had quietly paid Donald Trump sixteen million dollars to settle a lawsuit their own lawyers believed had no merit. A lawsuit over how 60 Minutes edited an interview. Colbert didnât mince words. On national television, he called it what it was. A bribe. A âbig fat bribe.â He said it plainly, calmly, and in front of millions.
That moment mattered. Because Paramount needs something from the Trump administration. Approval for an $8.4 billion merger with Skydance Media, a deal that requires sign-off from the FCC, which is run by a Trump appointee. The message was unmistakable: hereâs sixteen million dollars, Mr. President, please approve our merger. Colbert said out loud what everyone else was too afraid to say. And that made him dangerous.

Seventy-two hours later, CBS announced that The Late Show with Stephen Colbert would be cancelled, ending in May 2026. Not just Colbertâs show. The entire Late Show franchise, a cornerstone of American television since David Letterman began it in 1993. CBS claimed it was purely financial. Not related to performance. Not related to content. Not related to politics. Except for one small problem. Colbertâs show was number one in the ratings. It had been number one for nine straight years.
Late-night television has never been about direct profit. Itâs a loss leader. It brings prestige. It defines networks. Thatâs why these shows survive for decades. And yet CBS suddenly couldnât afford its highest-rated program, just days after its host accused the company of bribing the president of the United States. Sure. Totally unrelated.
Trump didnât even try to hide his glee. On Truth Social, he celebrated Colbertâs cancellation and openly threatened that Jimmy Kimmel would be next. The president of the United States cheering the firing of a comedian who criticized him, and warning others to fall in line. If that doesnât chill free speech, nothing does.
Colbertâs response was not fear. It was defiance. When he returned to the stage, the audience gave him a standing ovation that lasted nearly a minute. He told Kimmel he stood with him. He made it clear there would be no silence, no retreat, no obedience. When Trump mocked his talent, Colbert looked straight into the camera and told the president to go f*** himself. On network television. With nothing left to lose.
And while this was happening, the world kept reacting. Bruce Springsteen spoke out against Trump at a packed festival in New Jersey, calling out authoritarianism and the militarization of law enforcement. Crowds roared in approval. In Greenland, protesters marched to the American consulate, declaring they were not afraid, that they were united, and that they had strong allies. In Denmark, people filled the streets to protest Trumpâs threats. Across Europe and North America, the pattern was the same. Resistance.
This is not coincidence. This is retaliation. Two top CBS executives resigned before the settlement was even announced. Wendy McMahon. Bill Owens, the longtime executive producer of 60 Minutes. Owens wrote that he could no longer practice honest journalism at CBS. A man from the most prestigious news program in American television history walking away because the independence was gone.
Then, astonishingly, CBS anchor John Dickerson went on air and asked viewers if they could still trust CBS News after paying millions to the president. A network questioning its own credibility live on television. That is not normal. That is institutional collapse.
And hovering over all of this is the Epstein shadow. Trumpâs history. His words. His associations. His threats. His celebration of silencing critics. This isnât just about a comedian losing a job. Itâs about power demanding obedience. Itâs about money replacing accountability. Itâs about a system bending under pressure instead of standing up.
Trump didnât just expose himself. He exposed the weakness of institutions that were supposed to hold him accountable. But he also exposed something else. Courage. From Colbert. From journalists who resigned. From crowds who booed. From countries that said no.
This is why independent journalism matters. Because corporate media wonât connect these dots. They canât. We can. And we will.