“We did everything the adults would do. What went wrong?” Piggy asks in William Golding’s classic novel “The Lord of the Flies.”

Try as they might, the kids stranded on a remote island could neither act nor govern like adults. Even with their symbolic conch — signifying civilization, democracy and adults’ rules — they still couldn’t rise above their base instincts. Such a task proved impossible for children left to their own devices.

These days, the political activists who increasingly dominate Colorado governments epitomize our real-world, modern fly-kids. They cannot bring themselves to act like we expect adults to act, choosing instead to engage in performative displays — supplying their own self-images while merely solving straw-man problems irrelevant to the genuine issues of the moment.

On Wednesday, state Rep. Tim Hernández, a Marxist teacher-turned-legislator, was sworn in on the state House floor. With his left hand rested atop two books, Hernández held up his right hand, clenched in a fist — a symbol often used by revolutionary socialist movements — rather than the traditional open palm. Then, from the podium, he led his new colleagues in a clapping chant.

Afterwards, Hernández proudly tweeted out four pictures of his swearing-in. Each was just a duplicate image of the same photo but zoomed in closer and closer on his fist. “I pledge allegiance to my community, not the power of the Capitol,” the 26-year-old wrote alongside the photos. “To the people, not the strategy of a party. To the oppressed, never our oppressors. To US, no abbreviation.”

The spectacle revealed an unwavering fixation on his own self-importance, prioritizing personal image over a sincere, sacred oath. Yet his allies were thrilled. “My man put a fist up. Consider me having learned my lesson,” Rep. Elizabeth Epps, a radical fellow-traveler in the House, exclaimed in a tweet. “I will never take an oath with an open palm AGAIN!” How old are we?

Evidently, the legislature has deteriorated into a paltry platform for mere ideological protest — one casting aside established rules and norms just to prove a point.

“The rules!” Ralph shouts in the novel. “You’re breaking the rules!” The response — a simple “Who cares?” — is today echoed by Hernández, who likewise discards the rules of the game. The freshman legislator threw away the significance of the moment — dismissing everything this job is about in pursuit of protest.

A legislator’s job is to fulfill certain legal responsibilities while serving the people — not to oppose their chosen euphemisms for capitalism. Yet, like the stranded children of the island, these individuals merely imitate what the adults are supposed do. Once elected, they seem incapable of transitioning from an activist to a responsible state legislator.

Hernández — who has called for a “FORCEFUL cultural revolution” and recently refused to disavow those who choose violent politics — tweeted that “we will not legislate our way out of white supremacy.” Why serve in a job if you believe the job isn’t worth doing in the first place?

Let’s be real: If you think the rules are mere manifestations of the “white male patriarchy,” as Hernández seems to believe — and you are personally meant to lead the charge against such a supposed scourge — then the rules are inherently meant to be broken. Why adhere to behavioral norms when your sense of moral conceit places you above such constraints?

Alas, Hernández isn’t the first Lord of the Flies to come from the fringes of Colorado’s dominant political party. He’s the latest in a line of other Denver performative players before him — like outgoing Denver Public Schools board member Tay Anderson and former Denver City Councilwoman Candi Cdebaca.

For four tumultuous years, Anderson has served as ringmaster of an exhausting DPS circus. Early on, amid the social protests of 2020, he tweeted that “sometimes you have to burn it down in order to rebuild.” Last year, he publicly scolded high school graduates who refused to shake his hand during commencement, protesting the board member’s past behavior. “I will not be disrespected,” he whined.

With a penchant for accusing his critics of “racism,” “white supremacy” and “anti-Blackness,” Anderson grandiosely depicts his tenure as an “Anderson era” of monumental significance. “Even if I am never elected to another seat in government again, I’m walking away having no regrets,” he declared. He leaves office with a 9% approval rating.

Cdebaca — a Marxist who lost her reelection bid in Denver’s June runoff — has criticized capitalism as “exploitative” and called for “community ownership of land, labor (and) resources … by any means necessary.” Last year, when four other Latina council members dared to disagree with her position on redistricting, she publicly maligned them with the label “Malinches.”

For those who couldn’t enjoy last year’s fascinating “La Malinche” exhibit at the Denver Art Museum, the term dates to the 16th century Spanish Conquistadors. It refers to Marina, the Nahau woman in Mexico who aided Hernán Cortez in his Spanish conquest and gave birth to one of the first Mestizos. In short, Cdebaca branded all four Latinas as race-traitors — over a policy disagreement. It was, once more, pure fist-in-the-air grandstanding.

As with Anderson and Cdebaca before them, Hernández and his radical colleagues aren’t focused on solving genuine policy problems. Rather, like characters marooned on their own island, they zealously feed the insatiable appetite of their own egos — an indulgence which, left or right, threatens to irreparably stain the integrity of the offices they hold.

Jimmy Sengenberger is an investigative journalist, public speaker, and host of “The Jimmy Sengenberger Show” Saturdays from 6 a.m. to 9 a.m. on News/Talk 710 KNUS. Reach Jimmy online at Jimmysengenberger.com or on Twitter (X) @SengCenter.