It has been precisely twelve months since the American populace, in a collective fit of pique or perhaps just a desire to watch the world burn in high definition, decided to reinstall the Sultan of Subtlety back into the seat of power. For those of us observing from the high ground of total indifference, it has been a fascinating study in cultural necrosis. We are witnessing what the earnest hacks call Trump's 'War on Culture,' which is a bit like watching two rival gangs of arsonists argue over who gets to burn down the library. On one side, we have the MAGA aesthetic—an explosion of gold-leafed trash, aggressive mediocrity, and middle-finger diplomacy. On the other, we have the 'Resistant' artists, a group of people so deeply convinced of their own importance that they believe their latest experimental interpretive dance or a sternly worded Instagram post will somehow act as a kinetic shield against executive orders. Both sides are exhausting. Both sides are idiots.

The symbolic takeover of the Kennedy Center is perhaps the most hilariously predictable move in the playbook. For decades, the Kennedy Center has been the hospice where the elite go to feel sophisticated while falling asleep to the Nutcracker. Now, it is being refashioned into a cultural apparatus for a man whose idea of 'the arts' is a pageant where the contestants are judged on their loyalty to his brand. Trump doesn't want art; he wants a mirror that only reflects his own distorted self-image. This isn’t just about changing the wallpaper or swapping out a bust of Lincoln for a statue of a guy in a golf cart; it’s about the symbolic decapitation of the 'Establishment.' Of course, the irony is that the new establishment is just the old one with a cheaper spray tan and a more aggressive social media feed. It’s a replacement of one set of gatekeepers with another set of people who can’t even find the gate.

Then we have the purging of diversity policies. The administration’s assault on DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) is being framed as a return to 'meritocracy,' a word that has never been used honestly in the history of Washington D.C. Let’s be clear: the previous administration’s obsession with DEI was often a hollow corporate branding exercise designed to mask the fact that they were still doing nothing for the poor of any race. It was HR-approved rebellion. Now, it’s being replaced by a 'patriotic' purity test that is equally hollow and arguably more aesthetically offensive. We are moving from a world where you have to hire someone because of their demographic to a world where you have to hire someone because they once wore a red hat to a funeral. In neither scenario does talent, craft, or actual artistic vision matter. We’ve simply swapped one checklist for another, both of them designed to ensure that no one with an original thought ever gets near a microphone.

Hollywood, naturally, is in a state of perpetual, performative meltdown. The resistance from the creative class is a masterpiece of narcissism. They talk about 'mobilizing for freedom of speech' as if they weren’t the same people who spent the last decade trying to cancel anyone who used the wrong adjective in a cafeteria. Their sudden devotion to the First Amendment is as authentic as a Hollywood marriage or a press release for a vegan steakhouse. They aren't worried about 'art'; they are worried about their tax credits, their prestige, and their invitations to the right parties. They view themselves as the last line of defense against barbarism, failing to realize that their own output—the endless sequels, the sterilized superhero slop, the soul-crushing corporate content—has done more to rot the American brain than any executive order ever could. You can't complain about the death of culture when you’ve been the one charging people twenty dollars to watch it die on an IMAX screen.

The 'controversial appointments' in the cultural sphere are the final twist of the knife. We are seeing people who wouldn't know a Caravaggio from a Cracker Barrel menu being put in charge of national endowments. These are loyalists whose primary qualification is their ability to flatter the king. They are the barbarians at the gate, but the gate was already left open by the previous tenants who were too busy counting their moral superiority points to notice the hinges were rusted. This is the natural conclusion of a society that has decided everything—from a painting to a poem—is merely a weapon in a partisan street fight. The result is not a 'new culture,' but a cultural vacuum.

In the end, this 'war' is a farce. It is a choreographed struggle where the outcome is predetermined: the complete and total erasure of anything resembling nuance. The Right needs a 'woke' boogeyman to keep the donations flowing, and the Left needs a 'fascist' villain to justify their own existence. History doesn't have sides; it only has winners and losers, and right now, the only winners are the people selling the popcorn while the library burns. The American cultural narrative isn't being 'regained' or 'defended'; it's being euthanized by two groups of people who are too stupid to realize they are both holding the pillow. As the curtain falls on the first year of this cultural lobotomy, we are left with nothing but the loud, hollow ringing of two empty vessels hitting each other over and over again.