What he said.

I've been out for a little minor surgery. No biggie, just annoying. But as I'm still kind of drowsy, I'm giving you Jacob Clifton, a writer for Television Without Pity, and the recap of that wretched Burger King commercial he included with his recap of last week's episode of The Apprentice. Jacob is the best.

A man with falsely bushy eyebrows sits in a nouvelle restaurant, and is brought a piece of well-presented sushi. He turns to the camera -- holding his faceless girlfriend's hand behind a wine glass full of water -- and begins to sing. "I am man, hear me roar / In numbers too big too ignore..." He stands -- his bitch's face goes sour -- and takes off down the aisle of the restaurant, which is filled with men wearing the same colors he is. He tosses his napkin behind him, because what need has he of the napkins of the matriarchy? He is man. In the background, his girlfriend is weeping inconsolably. "And I'm way too hungry / To settle for chick food..." He frees himself and sets off into Manhattan; turns manfully, sternly toward the camera as he walks directly across the street -- not even looking for oncoming traffic! -- toward a Burger King. "'Cause my stomach's startin' to growl / And I'm goin' on the prowl / For a Texas Double Whopper...man that's good!" His sentiments are echoed by another man outside the BK, who holds the prenominate sandwich into the air like Lady Liberty -- a new statue for a new millennium, where men finally have a place they can just be men. Where they can rediscover their liberty to eat sandwiches larger than a full-grown adult person's head, dripping in fat.

Men flood the streets; a host of men come out of Burger King holding their sandwiches proudly. "Oh yes, I'm a guy / I'll admit I've been fed quiche..." He barely shies away from this admission, but you can tell what he's implying: eating quiche is basically equivalent to eating dick, which is fine in a sushi prison, but in the brave new world of the Burger Kingdom, there's no need for that. These proud men are of all races, all classes, all forms of dress, in a parade now numbering in the hundreds. They pass a bistro patio, where men shove their plates across their tables, standing up in disobedience -- they will no longer be eating quiche, no sir. They will be eating beef. Their girlfriends -- all womankind -- left far, far behind, the bistro boys are helped over the railing to join the throng, a hamburger shoved into their hands as they come, blinking and unbalanced, seeming new-born. "Wave tofu bye-bye / Now it's the Whopper Beef I..." A man comes out of a salon, confused, in a smock, with a green skin mask on his face -- but he cannot be hated for having gone so terribly, awfully wrong. All men deserve the freedom of the Burger Kingdom, even those led into sexual purgatory by their pores. "I will eat this meat!" A man in the foreground shoves the sandwich into the camera, as behind him, ten floors or more of rioting men dance on balconies, unfurling banners that say "Eat This Meat!" and "I Am Man!" They do not dance like homos -- they have the power of beef. "Till my innie turns into an outie!" These men, in defiance of all nature, will give birth to hunger itself! They will consume the world, until women and their disgusting foods are left far behind!

An Asian man in a business tie smashes a racist cement block with one fist, while proudly holding his sandwich aloft. Three hipsters (mesh cap/Neil Young burns; black glasses music nerd; temporary neck-tied slave to The Man) roll up their sleeves and show off their negligent muscles, as they raise their sandwiches to their mouths, in unison, not unlike Rosie the Riveter: "I am strong (STRONG!) / I am starved (STARVED!)..." One construction worker sucker punches another, both of them still holding firmly to their sandwiches. It's a sign of love, but also of excitement! Thanks to the Burger King! Nothing for the Dairy Queen, not today! Skinny, teenage cheerleaders do their routine against a building, no breasts, no body hair, as a man rips off his underwear from inside his pants and tosses it into an open flame (that part was weird). The men line up behind him, thinking of things that they can burn away in this rebirth. "I am incorrigible!" Somewhere, Helen Reddy realizes that she was basically the Leni Riefenstahl of women's hegemonic control of mankind, and hides her face, ashamed.

The men take to the highway, causing a minivan to swerve to a stop before their awesome tide. "And you can't keep a big burger beef bacon jalapeno good thing down..." There is silence as the minivan door opens, and a father steps out. What will he do? Is he in too deep? Is it possible that his whipping by the pussy will pause long enough for him to eat a hamburger? YES! He jumps to his feet proudly, throws his hands in the air -- at last, he is free. Free of bullshit like women, and kids -- free to eat the sandwiches of freedom. Fists and sandwiches are raised to the sky as the men -- all across the city, the country, the world, proudly raise their barbaric sandwich yawp: "YEAH!" The men's smiles fade somewhat as they -- as a group -- lift the minivan by its sides ("Do Not Attempt," says the screen) like a Watts riot of misogyny, and plunge it over a bridge and into a garbage truck, which is being pulled along by a an old, bulky man wrapped in chains. (This part is also weird.) "I am hungry / I am incorrigible..." A young woman with no face and lots of tits holds a sandwich out to the pulling man on a shovel, tempting him with manhood. "I am man!" scream the men on the bridge, watching the old man reaching for his sandwich, pulling the garbage truck in which they've deposited their fatherhood, their couplehood -- their enslavement. "Eat Like A Man, Man," says the screen, above a BK logo.

Perhaps we all will. And then we can all go to a White Power rally. Oh, you're not Caucasian? Sorry, you're not invited. It's really about celebrating how great it is to be white. Why would that be a problem? Stop screaming! You can eat the hamburgers, ladies, if you really want to -- you're just not allowed to celebrate them with us. It's a man thing.

Yeah, I hate that commercial.