Silencing the Laugh Track

When broadcast giants trade free speech for mergers and Trump’s applause, democracy gets played off stage.

Good morning! Mexico kicked things off with a roar. At the Independence Day celebration, President Claudia Sheinbaum took center stage as Mexico’s first female head of state, waving the flag and rallying her people. Trump, meanwhile, tried to wave his own shriveled hand, which now looks like it spent the night in a chip shop’s deep fryer.

From Mexico City to Windsor Castle, the theme of the week is the world politely humiliating Donald Trump to his face. King Charles, who understands the art of the ceremonial mug-off, laid a trap as golden as his carriage. Trump was invited to bask in the pomp, don a white tie, and declare himself the “first American president welcomed here” (simply not true). Then Charles delivered a blunt reminder: the U.S.–UK alliance exists to defeat tyranny, yesterday in two world wars, today in Ukraine. Cameras zoomed in on Trump’s glassy stare as Charles invoked standing “together in support of Ukraine.” Diplomacy as roast.

Canada and Mexico aren’t waiting for Charles to sharpen his wit. Prime Minister Carney and Sheinbaum are meeting to shore up a united front before the KUSMA/USMCA review. Trump brags that “Mexico does what we tell them. Canada does what we tell them. They submit.” Yet the polling says otherwise: 68% of Mexicans and 59% of Canadians now see the United States, not Russia or China, as their greatest threat. The former allies are no longer amused by Trump’s strongman cosplay; they’re planning how to defend their sovereignty against it.

It’s not just North America. Across South Africa, Indonesia, Brazil, Argentina, and Spain, majorities or pluralities now list the U.S. as their top threat. Only in Japan and Australia does China beat America for that title, but even there, sizeable chunks of the public see the U.S. as dangerous. When your allies start ranking you above Putin, you’ve hit rock bottom.

Meanwhile, back in Las Vegas, Trump’s tariff tantrums have turned the city of neon into a city of “closed.” Tourism has cratered, hotels are bleeding money, and the mayor is begging Canada and Mexico to send visitors. Trump promised no taxes on tips, but what good is that when there are no tips to be had?

After Windsor’s gilt parade, Trump decamped to a big tent with Keir Starmer and a who’s-who of execs to sign a “tech prosperity deal.” Starmer played genial host, touting £250 billion in two-way investment, 15,000 jobs, and a dozen shiny new nuclear reactors. He name-checked the tech pantheon (Jensen, Demis, Satya) like a festival lineup and declared the UK “the only trillion-dollar tech sector in the West outside the U.S.”

Then Trump grabbed the mic and delivered greatest hits under the canvas: the “first ever” second state visit (sure, Jan), “$340 billion” in trade last year, tariffs as free money, “zero” illegal border crossings for three months, inflation basically gone, and a claimed $17 trillion of investment stampeding into America this year, “no country’s ever had anything like that.” He promised “very rapid approvals” (two to three weeks!) for energy and industrial projects and praised Blackstone’s front-row seat like it was the Oscars. Paper got passed, pens were clicked, and photos were posed.

The optics were almost too on-the-nose: after a night of gold and fanfare where King Charles boxed him into saying nothing while Ukraine was praised, Trump spent the next day basking in a beige business tent, declaring deregulation salvation and tariffs manna from heaven. Starmer tried to cast it as a sober, values-driven blueprint; Trump sold it as a sequel to his “big beautiful bill,” complete with 100% expensing and deregulation so fast your permits say “wheee.”

Takeaway: Britain staged a commerce-day palate cleanser to offset Windsor’s awkward geopolitics. Trump got his crowd-shot with CEOs and a fresh stack of superlatives; Starmer got announcements he can staple to a jobs press release. Whether the eye-popping numbers survive contact with reality is tomorrow’s problem. Today’s story is the vibe shift, from gilt to tarp, from speeches about tyranny to sales pitches about “AI taking over the world.” Under the tent, the only thing heavier than the heat was the hype.

Back home, the authoritarian playbook is on full display.

Epstein’s survivors are still fighting to be heard, only to be branded “not credible” by Trump’s FBI chief Kash Patel. Patel refuses to say how many times Trump’s name appears in the files, Republicans block subpoenas, and Trump’s directive is clear: investigating Epstein is a “hostile act.” Survivors are gaslit, predators protected, and the cover-up rolls on.

Meanwhile, Jimmy Kimmel Live! has been yanked from the air, not for ratings, but for pointing out that Trump, when asked about Charlie Kirk’s death, changed the subject to brag about his ballroom. That’s it. Affiliates revolted, Disney caved, and Trump cheered the “great news” of silencing a comic. He even goaded NBC to axe Fallon and Meyers. Putin would be proud. Authoritarians loathe jokes because jokes puncture myths.

And now Trump’s cherry on top: designating antifa a “major terrorist organization.” Never mind that antifa isn’t an organization but a loose label for anti-fascists. Never mind that U.S. law doesn’t allow designating domestic groups as terrorists. This is political branding, pure and simple: invent a phantom enemy, criminalize dissent, and call it law and order. In 2020 it fizzled; in 2025, with his grip slipping, it’s louder and sloppier.

Put it together and you get the formula: silence victims, muzzle comedians, criminalize protest. Fascism doesn’t just come wrapped in gold leaf; it comes in broadcast suspensions, FBI gaslighting, and phantom terrorist labels.

While Trump plays dress-up in castles and tents, Ukraine is fighting for its existence. Zelensky spelled out the math: defending his country costs $120 billion a year, half covered domestically, half dependent on allies. He pressed for security guarantees, sanctions, and reconstruction funded by frozen Russian assets. Ukraine has blunted Russian offensives on several fronts, but sustaining the fight requires resources only the West can provide.

King Charles reminded Trump in Windsor: alliances mean defeating tyranny together. Zelensky reminds us daily: survival isn’t cheap, but surrender costs everything.

What happened to Jimmy Kimmel isn’t just about one comic losing his stage, it’s about who owns the stage in the first place. The same broadcast giants that yanked him are also lining up at the FCC, hats in hand, asking for approval of yet another merger that would further consolidate who controls what Americans see and hear. When licensing power, regulatory favors, and political pressure intertwine, the result isn’t free speech, it’s curated speech, policed not by public demand but by corporate caution and authoritarian whim.

I’ll be unpacking this more in an upcoming piece, because the stakes are bigger than a late-night host. They go to the heart of whether democracy can survive when a handful of conglomerates decide which truths get airtime and which voices are cut off before the monologue.