McDonald's is out to brainwash America (and then the world -- Bwah-Ha-Ha-HA!) to eat their crappy hamburgers. I know that this is not exactly breaking news, but have you noticed the recent trends in McDonald's commercials? In order to dig the company out of the horrible publicity pit they have found themselves in recently, they have decided to simply try to pressure us back up to the counter.

First they tried to convince us that our grown friends would really love McDonald's gift cards for Christmas. Ask yourself, have you ever, even once in your life, wished that your wife or parents (or Santa, whoever) had given you a gift certificate to McDonald's instead of cash? "Gee, I sure wish that I could have nothing but tasteless, fattening meals everyday instead of paying my rent." Even as a child, I would rather have had the cash than a Happy Meal toy. (And yes, I do remember the first time I chose a Big Mac over a Happy Meal, and it was indeed because of peer pressure. >Shakes fist!<)

Then they tell you that their food is good for whatever meal you would next be having. In a commercial, one man serves double cheeseburgers as hor d'oeuvres despite his friend's objections. When the rest of "the gang" find the burgers served as finger food and approve, the lone dissenter, also known as "the voice of reason," is forced into compliance with his friends lest he risk defenestration or some such other fate as commonly befalls the malcontents of society. Certainly, McDonald's has no patience for traditions, mores, or manners so long as you can still stuff your face at their trough.

Just like the communists, they next attack the arts and the intelligentsia. In a commercial where "the gang" are going to a football game in face paint, the one fellow who actually makes an attempt at creativity and team spirit is ridiculed, emasculated by his friends. And this occurs after the artist has been demonstrated to perform due diligence: attempting communication with his friends about the planned demonstration. Apparently, to be an individual in Ronald McDonaldland is to risk constant belittlement and ostracism. (As I recall, "the gang" is represented by minority racial groups and women, and the "outcast" is a white male. This means that the peer pressure to conform is being issued by traditionally oppressed American ethnic groups, an insidious paradigm shift designed to subconsciously cow the skeptical viewer into compliance with the message to prevent the outward appearance of political incorrectness and the accompanying social consequences.) I don't suppose it's a coincidence that Ronald McDonald wears the same colors as the soviet flag!

In another ad, a married man conscientiously contacts his distant wife to ask if she would like a meal from McDonald's. She fails to define her desires to him, and he is left in the uncomfortable situation of having to buy her dinner without offending her. Clearly, McDonald's would have us believe that the failure to memorize both their menu board and the fast-food eating habits of our friends and lovers will result in relationship difficulties. According to the company of the clown, we must eat at McDonald's or we risk dying both alone and hungry.

Finally, in the most shocking of all, a red-headed young man sits on a park bench beside a statue of cross-legged, smiling Ronald. As the seconds pass, the young man finds himself compelled to assume the same pose as the statue. McDonald's peer pressure tactics are so great that they'd have you believe that you must conform even with their statues!

It's not 1984 anymore, McDonald's! Wake up and smell one of the 1.3 million cups of scalding hot coffee that you sell every day! Make good food and we'll come eat it. If your best idea for convincing me to come into your store is to hypnotize me with a constant stream of blipverts, you've got even more problems than Morgan Spurlock suggests that you have.

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This holiday season, take some time to review the things that really matter. Ponder the big questions in life: If Jesus had been a postman, would he have been mailed to the cross? Do you ruin Santa's schedule if you put laxative in his milk and cookies? If I dream of a white christmas, will I be considered a racist by Morgan Freeman?

I was watching one of my favorite movies the other day, the 1979 TV pilot for Captain America. It features one of my favorite actors, Reb Brown. Reb's acting was never very good, but his great physique, good natured delivery, and unintentionally comic timing always made his onscreen performances memorable. (He had quite a bit of work for nearly 2 decades beginning in the mid-seventies, everything from Fantasy Island to Flight of the Intruder.)

To get a better sense of Reb's style, take a look at this clip from the movie. (Check out Simon's double-take to Steve's final statement.) If you've never seen the movie, there are a lot of great moments where it seems that scientist and spy Simon is talking to Steve as though Steve were a special education student. It's great. And it has a big part for Lance LeGault, a member of Elvis' Memphis Mafia and prolific actor who played, among other roles, the A-Team's Col. Decker. Don't worry, you'll recognize him as "that guy with the gravelly voice who always plays assholes."

It's a long way from "Do you think this letter on my head stands for France?" but it's a lot of clean, old-fashioned fun anyway.

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I have to admit that I just don't understand America's fascination with midgets and monkeys.

Both are staples of comedy bits on TV from commercials to the Man Show. On the big screen Austin Power's Mini-Me became a cultural phenomenon not too far removed from Clyde in Any Which Way But Loose. (And yes, I know that Clyde, an orangutan which is a member of the ape family, is not actually a monkey. This is really a rant against dressing up primates in human clothing, so maybe I should have said "pygmies and primates" instead of "midgets and monkeys," but you get the general idea here.)

I believe that the reason that these two things are commonly considered humorous is because they are both (to different extents) miniature versions of the human form. Midgets are humans, small humans. Monkeys are hairy, small humanoids with tails. Notice that in both descriptions, the only common word is "small." That's right, to America, small equals fascinating. (Perhaps because we as a culture are now all so ridiculously large ourselves.)

Look at our obsession with iPods, Chihuahuas, cell phones, babies, and Tom Cruise. If a monkey reminds you of a small version of your office companions (which is exactly the point of a recent commercial for a internet job site), then you are likely to find the antics of the monkey funny as you project your office companions' activities and motivations onto the monkey's diminutive form. When Curious George falls into hijinks, we laugh. When Billy Bob Thornton gets into a shootout with Tony Cox in Bad Santa, we laugh. When Homer Simpson skips out on a robbery to watch the drive-in movie Hail to the Chimp, we laugh. (Though when Dunston Checks In comes on cable, we change the channel. We Americans are a fickle bunch.)

Perhaps it is because I don't much like people in the first place that I also don't much care for miniature versions of people. (Note to the Little People lobby: it's not that I'm a midget hater, I just don't find you particularly funny simply because you've got really stubby fingers.) I'm sure that I'm in the minority here, but I'm just damn tired of monkey jokes.

Oh, and happy thanksgiving. Can you guess what we talked about over our ham and potatoes this year? (That's right: a midget football league.)

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