This past weekend, my television show opened its second hour with a sketch that had our studio crew barely holding it together. Al Barry and his team—our resident masters of animated satire—dropped a new short that could easily be described as South Park meets CNN after dark. The premise? “Roger the Burger Communist” takes over after the fall of the “Burger King,” declaring that everyone will now get exactly one fry, evenly distributed by the “Ministry of Fairness.”
It was absurd. It was hysterical. And it was true.
The sketch aired just as the nation witnessed one of the most violent weekends in recent memory—what DHS officials dubbed “one of the most violent days in Operation Midway Blitz.” Federal officers in Portland were once again under siege by so-called “anti-ICE agitators,” and the usual self-appointed revolutionaries in matching REI raincoats tried to burn the American flag, clash with police, and then cry “oppression” when arrested.
These weren’t downtrodden minorities, desperate immigrants, or the poor yearning to breathe free. According to DHS reports and demographic breakdowns, the overwhelming majority were the same people we’ve seen leading the “No Kings” marches: white, female, about 40, and overwhelmingly single—or identifying as lesbian.
This is not conjecture; this is data. Experts reviewing the arrests, footage, and movement chatter all say the same thing. The revolution isn’t being televised—it’s being curated by the anthropology department at a small liberal arts college, fueled by oat milk lattes, and livestreamed from the parking lot of Whole Foods.
When Al Barry’s team created “Roger the Burger Communist,” they weren’t exaggerating. They were diagnosing the cultural rot of a generation that’s never missed a meal, never faced a draft, never been hungry for anything except attention—and yet believes America owes them an apology for existing.
The “No Kings” movement is the perfect embodiment of that contradiction. It’s not a protest against tyranny. It’s a tantrum against order itself. They shout “no kings,” but what they actually mean is “no one who disagrees with me.” They claim to hate hierarchy, but they worship the hierarchy of victimhood—where whoever screams the loudest gets to rule the moment.
And while their placards and hashtags might look harmless enough, the consequences of their tantrums are not. Across multiple cities, federal officers were injured, property destroyed, and innocent bystanders harassed. DHS agents described the weekend’s violence as “targeted chaos”—a deliberate attempt to provoke confrontation with the state, then demand sympathy for being “mistreated.”
Meanwhile, Chicago suffered another wave of weekend shootings. There were no marches for those victims. No candlelight vigils from the “No Kings” crowd. Apparently, when the dead don’t fit the preferred demographic—or when the shooter isn’t wearing a badge—they’re expendable to the cause.
That’s the hypocrisy Al Barry’s satire captures so brilliantly. In his world, “Roger the Burger Communist” declares everyone equal, but only after confiscating the burgers. The mobs cheer as he burns down the kitchen—then weep when they realize he’s outlawed fries, too.
We laugh because it’s ridiculous. We should also cry because it’s prophetic.
What we’re witnessing isn’t a protest movement anymore—it’s a cultural psychosis. A generation taught to see every inconvenience as oppression, every rule as tyranny, and every form of authority as abuse has now reached middle age. And they’re desperate to prove that their rebellion still matters, even if they have to invent the oppression themselves.
They post videos crying in Teslas about “patriarchy.” They vandalize buildings built by the taxpayers they despise. They lecture the country about “inclusivity” while assaulting anyone who disagrees. And they call that “justice.”
It’s not justice. It’s narcissism in protest form.
But there’s also something darker at work. The “No Kings” rallies and the violent offshoots that inevitably follow reveal how fragile our national fabric has become. When law enforcement officers are demonized, when truth is treated as optional, and when mob anger is mistaken for moral authority, the republic itself trembles.
And yet, amidst the madness, satire like Al Barry’s reminds us that truth still cuts through. Comedy—real comedy, not the sanitized, pre-approved kind—is one of the last weapons we have against the insanity of ideology. By holding up a mirror and saying, “This is what you’ve become,” satire forces a reckoning no political speech can match.
That’s why authoritarian movements hate humor. That’s why tyrants fear laughter. Because once people start laughing at the lie, the lie starts to lose its power.
So yes, laugh at Roger the Burger Communist. But remember: the absurdities he represents are not fiction. They are real women marching in Portland, screaming “No Kings!” while demanding more government control. They are real agitators smashing ICE facilities while tweeting about “love and peace.” They are real politicians pretending to be victims while letting the cities they govern burn.
And until those voices of rage and delusion are drowned out by citizens who still believe in truth, order, and reason, we’ll keep seeing the chaos play out—on our streets and our screens.
Al Barry’s sketches make us laugh. But the Department of Homeland Security isn’t laughing. Neither are the officers in Portland or the families in Chicago burying their dead.
If America ever hopes to restore sanity, it will have to start by rediscovering the difference between freedom and foolishness. Between justice and vengeance. Between humor that heals and hatred that harms.
Because right now, the mob doesn’t want a king. It wants a kingdom—without responsibility, without restraint, and without reason.
And when that kingdom finally collapses, they’ll still blame someone else for not giving them enough fries.
Editor’s Note: The Schumer Shutdown is here. Rather than put the American people first, Chuck Schumer and the radical Democrats forced a government shutdown for healthcare for illegals. They own this.
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