It’s not CNN, it’s Trump TV

Of course, when the world returns – if it ever does – to normal, what will we do for entertainment? With serious, boring American presidents – if there are any left – given that we’re so used to this ‘show accaventiquattro’, as they say in Milan? The latest development is Trump TV. After repeatedly confronting journalists and expelling CNN and other broadcasters from the White House, Trump—as we know—was in turn abandoned by them, and thus purged himself.

So here’s the decision, because the show must go on. A TV channel all of his own, Trump TV, which is broadcast on the White House website and on YouTube.  The launch was announced with an advertisement showing a large truck pulling up to the White House bearing the symbol of a transmission tower, accompanied by AI-generated graphics with a slightly crime-thriller feel; Trump exits the limousine in black and white, Tarantino-style – he’s just like those who switch channels. Those who switch to Channel 8 or Channel 9; Trump is the global Giletti.

It’s not Rai, it’s not Piazza Pulita, it’s not CNN. It’s Trump TV. The first programme, however, was a repeat – not exactly a good sign. A repeat broadcast of the President’s speech from Mount Rushmore on 3 July. The White House describes the new schedule as ‘The essentials station’, a basic package of Trumpism – a free version, without the unnecessary mediation of, well, the media; a bit like the early days of Big Brother, always live, without a studio, without commentary. “All the administration’s top moments in one place,” says Kaelan Dorr, the presidency’s head of digital strategy – that’s right, the “greatest hits, unfiltered.” For now, the videos include a live feed of Trump going about his activities—incredibly monotonous, akin to Senate or House of Commons television—followed by a retrospective on his second term, which carries a predominantly melancholic tone: here is former spokesperson Karoline Leavitt, who reportedly departed because she was overwhelmed by jealousy toward the new assistant, Natalie Harp, also known as the ‘human printer’ because she’s always carrying a printer (the President wants everything on paper); here’s Kristi Noem, former Secretary of Homeland Security, sporting an ICE cap and bulletproof vest; and here’s Melania in one of her rare appearances.

However, Trump TV’s most notable offering to date is the ‘promo’. The ‘promo’ is a medley of American television and cinema drawn from Warner, Fox, Sony and Disney: The Simpsons, Seinfeld, Friends, Family Guy, SpongeBob, Home Alone (which is particularly close to Trump’s heart, as he appeared in a cameo playing himself in the second film), as well as Modern Family, Breaking Bad and The Office – all clips featuring someone watching television. A sort of sixty-second blob, set to the music of ‘Video Killed the Radio Star’ by The Buggles — the track with which MTV launched its broadcasts on 1 August 1981, the song about one medium killing another, and the final frame features the huge face of Stewie Griffin screaming and whingeing, ‘I want to watch myself!’, ‘I want to watch myself’ — perhaps even a candid statement from the president who aspires to be a dictator, but also an anchorman; the president who managed to purge all the TV channels, and now, having found not a purer alternative but rather TV personalities who’ve had enough and purged him, he emigrates — like everyone else, like so many — to YouTube. To finally watch himself without interruption. 

Over the years, Trump has in fact managed to rein in, counter and obstruct American television channels guilty of being, in some way, ‘fake news’. In his view. Not outright censorship, but the usual (coup-style) tactics involving financial settlements, resignations, corporate reorganisation and programming decisions. December 2024: Disney’s ABC settles for fifteen million to the future presidential library, plus one million in legal fees, following a defamation case stemming from a remark by George Stephanopoulos. January 2025: Having just taken up his post at the FCC, the communications regulator, Brendan Carr dredges up from the bin the complaints of ‘news distortion’ against ABC, CBS and NBC that his predecessor had shelved. April 2025: Bill Owens steps down as editor-in-chief of 60 Minutes, writing to the editorial team that he no longer has the independence to run the programme; in July, Paramount – which in the meantime has to finalise its merger with Skydance – pays sixteen million dollars to settle the lawsuit over the editing of an interview with Kamala Harris. September 2025: ABC suspends Jimmy Kimmel for a joke about Charlie Kirk; Kimmel then moves to YouTube and, unsurprisingly, makes a huge splash. October 2025: David Ellison’s Paramount (son of Larry Ellison, a friend of the President, who now also heads up TikTok) buys the newsletter run by the centrist Bari Weiss and appoints Bari Weiss to head CBS News. February 2026: CBS cuts Colbert’s interview with potential Democratic candidate Talarico. May 2026: The Late Show, which has been on air since 1993 and is the top-rated programme in the late-night slot, is cancelled for reasons CBS insists are financial. September 2026: ABC does not broadcast Kimmel’s interview with Talarico himself.

In short, not actual purges but threats, pressure, scams and ambiguity, as Pierfrancesco Loche put it on Avanzi. The final twist, however, involves Trump: having censored others, he is now being silenced by the television networks, so he flees to YouTube, abandoning ‘mainstream TV’ like a modern outcast—a Luttazzi, Biagi or Santoro—but also like a young man banking on the television of sensationalism and the ‘young crowd’. In doing so, he is transforming the White House into a kind of media spectacle—how long will it be before he adds old episodes of The Apprentice to the schedule, the reality show in which he starred, and perhaps even teleshopping slots for various knick-knacks, his flashy ‘Made in China’ phones, the caps, and the cryptocurrencies with which the entire family is reportedly earning substantial sums? Complete with teleshopping, Shimano gear, and ‘leading figures of the twentieth century’, on Trump TV the president will finally be able to watch and sell himself forever, on a loop, in a sort of hyper-dream mise en abyme in true Berlusconi style (in a week’s time, Il Cavaliere would have turned 90). If he had even a hint of a bust, The Donald would not be the presenter—who is no longer needed—but a human money-printing machine; oh well.