Renamed

If you ever needed proof that Donald Trump governs like a man whose guiding legal philosophy is “it’s all about me,” look no further than the newly christened “Donald J. Trump and The John F. Kennedy Memorial Center for the Performing Arts.” Yes, it sounds like a drunk committee tried to merge a Broadway marquee with a MAGA yard sign. And yes, the law—actual written law—says the Kennedy Center’s name cannot be changed without Congress.

But this is Trump 2.0, where laws are less “rules” and more “polite suggestions,” like speed limits or salad.

Trump’s bulldozer presidency has already declared war on everything from foreign aid to the Department of Education to small boats in the Caribbean, so why would a mere congressional statute stop him from Sharpie-ing his name onto a national cultural institution? This is the man who has renamed the Gulf of Mexico. The Kennedy Center was never going to stand a chance.

And of course the White House insists the Board “unanimously” approved the change—even though Rep. Joyce Beatty, an ex-officio member, says she was muted during the meeting. Muted. In the renaming of the nation’s premiere arts center, the administration essentially hit “mute participant” on democracy.

The Kennedy Center was created by Congress as a permanent, living memorial to John F. Kennedy, not a billboard for whichever president is most eager to see his name in lights. Federal law spells that out clearly. But why let law interfere when you can have cranes hoisting a fresh set of gilded letters by Friday morning? The Kennedy family is just one more speed bump on Trump’s highway to personal branding.

Even Kennedy descendants are gearing up for lawsuits, except for Robert F. Kennedy (the nephew), who reportedly sits on the Board and probably signed off since he’s a Trump sycophant.

Trump did not rename the Kennedy Center because he believes deeply in the transformative power of cultural institutions. This is a man whose idea of “the arts” is having affairs with porn stars and touring the dressing rooms of Miss Teen USA contestants.

The point is power: unitary executive power, as his lawyers now describe it. Trump increasingly treats the federal government as a one-man HOA where he alone gets final say over architecture, landscaping, and noise complaints.

And with a deferential Supreme Court handing him expansions of presidential immunity and emergency freedom passes through the shadow docket, the checks and balances system now resembles an old rock-paper-scissors game where Trump keeps insisting he can play “grenade.”

Assuming the courts don’t intervene—because the Supreme Court keeps giving him nearly everything he wants anyway—what happens when a new administration arrives? Does a future president just pry off Trump’s name with a crowbar and pretend this whole episode was performance art?

If Congress won’t defend its authority, presidents will simply keep acting unilaterally. Which means Trump’s name stays until someone else decides to bulldoze it off.

That’s the irony of all this: the same theory Trump is using to plaster his name on the Kennedy Center is the one that lets a future president yank it down with equal gusto.

This isn’t about cultural institutions, prestige, or legacy. It’s about a narcissistic president testing how far he can stretch executive power before the system snaps. And with Congress cowering and the courts nodding along, Trump has discovered the answer is: pretty far.

So now the Kennedy Center has a name no one wanted, honoring a man who has spent the better part of a decade trying to defund the arts, alongside the president who actually inspired its creation.