To say that President Donald Trump is unfazed by Saturday's nationwide "No Kings" rally, which vies for bragging rights as perhaps the largest single-day protest in U.S. history, is the sort of understatement too typical when describing his monarchical outrages.

Leave aside Trump's grotesque mockery of the protests — his post that night of an AI-generated video depicting himself as a becrowned pilot in a fighter jet, dropping poop bombs on citizens protesting peacefully below. Consider instead two other post-rally actions: On Sunday and Wednesday, "Secretary of War" Pete Hegseth announced first that on Trump's orders the military had struck a seventh boat off Venezuela and then an eighth vessel in the Pacific, bringing the number of people killed over two months to 34. The administration has provided no evidence to Congress or the American public for Trump's claims that the unidentified dead were "narco-terrorists," nor any credible legal rationale for the strikes. Then, on Monday, Trump began demolishing the White House's East Wing to create the gilded ballroom of his dreams, which, at 90,000 square feet, would be nearly twice the size of the White House residence itself.

As sickening as the sight was — heavy equipment ripping away at the historic property as high-powered hoses doused the dusty debris — Trump's $250-million vanity project is small stuff compared to a policy of killing noncombatant civilian citizens of nations with which we are not at war (Venezuela, Colombia and Ecuador). Yet together the actions reflect the spectrum of consequences of Trump's utter sense of impunity as president, from the relatively symbolic to the murderous.

"In America the law is king," Thomas Paine wrote in 1776. Not in Trump's America.

Among the commentariat, the president's desecration of the East Wing is getting at least as much criticism as his extralegal killings at sea. Many critics see in the bulldozing of the People's House a metaphor for Trump's destructive governance generally — his other teardowns of federal agencies, life-saving foreign aid, healthcare benefits and more. The metaphor is indeed apt.

But what's more striking is the sheer sense of impunity that Trump telegraphs, constantly, with the "je suis l'état" flare of a Louis XIV — complete (soon) with Trump's Versailles. (Separately, Trump's mimicry of French emperors now includes plans for a sort of Arc de Triomphe near Arlington Cemetery. A reporter asked who it would be for. "Me," Trump said. Arc de Trump.)

No law, domestic or international, constrains him, as far as the convicted felon is concerned. Neither does Congress, where Republicans bend the knee. Nor the Supreme Court, with its 6-3 right-wing majority, including three justices Trump chose in his first term.

The court's ruling last year in Trump vs. United States gives Trump virtual immunity from criminal prosecution, but U.S. servicemembers don't have that protection when it comes to the deadly Caribbean Sea attacks or any other orders from the commander in chief that might one day be judged to have been illegal.

The operation's commander, Navy Adm. Alvin Holsey, reportedly expressed concerns about the strikes within the administration. Last week he announced his retirement after less than a year as head of the U.S. Southern Command. It could be a coincidence. But I'm hardly alone in counting Holsey as the latest casualty in Trump and Hegseth's purge of perceived nonloyalists at the Pentagon.

"When the president decides someone has to die, the military becomes his personal hit squad," military analyst and former Republican Tom Nichols said Monday on MSNBC. Just like with kings and other autocrats: Off with their heads.

Sen. Rand Paul of Kentucky, a rare maverick Republican, noted on Sunday on NBC's "Meet the Press" that in years past, the Coast Guard would board foreign boats suspected of ferrying drugs and, if contraband were found, take it and suspected traffickers into custody, often gleaning information about higher-ups to make a real dent in the drug trade. But, Paul added, about one in four boats typically had no drugs. No matter nowadays — everyone's a target for deadly force. "So," Paul said, "all of these people have been blown up without us knowing their name, without any evidence of a crime." (Paul was the only Republican senator not invited to lunch with Trump on Monday in the paved-over Rose Garden.)

On Monday, Ecuador said no evidence connects a citizen who survived a recent U.S. strike to any crime. Colombian President Gustavo Petro accused the United States of murdering a fisherman in a September strike, provoking Trump to call Petro a "drug leader" and unilaterally yank U.S. foreign aid. A Venezuelan told the Washington Post that the 11 people killed in the first known U.S. strike were fishermen; national security officials told Congress the individuals were headed back to shore when hit. Meanwhile, the three countries and U.S. news reports contradict Trump's claims that he's destroying and seizing fentanyl — a drug that typically comes from Mexico and then is smuggled by land, usually by U.S. citizens.

Again, no matter to America's king, who said last week that he's eyeing land incursions in Venezuela now "because we've got the sea very well under control." Trump's courtiers say he doesn't need Congress' authorization for any use of force. The Constitution suggests otherwise.

Alas, neither it nor the law limits Trump's White House makeover. He doesn't have to submit to Congress because he's tapping rich individuals and corporations for the cost. Past presidents, mindful that the house is a public treasure, not their palace, voluntarily sought input from various federal and nonprofit groups. After reports about the demolition, which put the lie to Trump's promise in July that the ballroom "won't interfere with the current building," the American Institute of Architects urged its members to ask Congress to "investigate destruction of the White House."

Disparate as they are, Trump's ballroom project and his Caribbean killings were joined last week. At a White House dinner for ballroom donors, Trump joked about the sea strikes: "Nobody wants to go fishing anymore." The pay-to-play titans laughed. Shame on them.

Trump acts with impunity because he can; he's a lame duck. But other Republicans must face the voters. Keep the "No Kings" protests coming — right through the elections this November and next.

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