Trump's Tearing Up the Recipe and American Pie Ain't What It Used to Be

The US President's daily goodwill sabotage means the benefits that once flowed from American cultural clout are no longer guaranteed.

- Bhavan Jaipragas Deputy Opinion Editor

The television is on, waiting for me to watch something—anything—and I slump into one of the two reclining chairs in my living room.

I'll freely admit I bought them last year during yet another of my umpteenth Friends rewatching sprees.

Joey and Chandler—famous to any fan of that iconic 1990s and 2000s sitcom—had these recliners, and I was utterly convinced they'd be my ultimate self-care purchase.

Yes, it's a textbook case of my arrested development, and a testament to the iron grip American pop culture seems to have on me.

If you need more proof, I also own a WaterRower—the same rowing machine Kevin Spacey, playing the scheming Frank Underwood in House of Cards, used for his sly straight-to-camera monologues.

Mine currently sits abandoned in my parents' flat, serving as a rather pricey dust collector.

I digress. Let's return to the evening of Feb 19—the day after Prime Minister Lawrence Wong delivered the Budget 2025 statement.

I'm perched on my knockoff La-Z-Boy couch, trying to tune out the seemingly ubiquitous and endless "Trump said this, Elon did that" chatter, having just filed a column on the spending plan.

On the TV screen, I'm streaming a YouTube clip of Saturday Night Live's recent 50th anniversary special.

Funnyman Steve Martin—79, but looking at least two decades younger—is delivering the show's trademark monologue.

Any hope of escaping Mr Donald Trump's fire hose of erraticism vanishes when he jokes about nearly missing the show because he was "vacationing in the Gulf of Steve Martin," lampooning the US President's diabolical move to rename the Gulf of Mexico as the Gulf of America.

Once the clip ends, I find myself doing what one does these days—hop from one screen to another—and start scrolling through Instagram reels.