I Am Man, Hear Me Roar


elcome to Hotel Satire where men are people
and gals are decorative domestic appendages. Recently, it has come
to our attention that a long-time crisis has come to a head, so
to speak. What is it, you ask? Well, it seems that men in droves
are having trouble, well, getting it up, if you catch our drift,
and are in need of massive amounts of erectile dysfunction curing
drugs. How do we know this? From the millions of email advertisements
that attest to the enormity of the problem. It’s a pandemic! 

A further indication of this mass erectile failure can be found
on page A13 of the

Boston Globe

of May 10. In an article
titled “Commander says U.S. troops need to be more sensitive,”
journalist James Rainey reports that the U.S. commander in charge
of day-day-today military operations, Lt. General Peter Chiarelli,
told troops that they need to use “reasonable force” (wha?)
and show respect for Iraqi culture (stop it) “in part because
the insurgency has persisted and grown.” Chiarelli remarked,
“For every one that I kill, I create almost 10 more.” 

Chiarelli thinks his message is having a positive effect as there
has been a “one-third reduction” in the use of force against
Iraqis (noooo) as well as a “50 percent reduction” in
Iraqi casualties (outrageous). 

Professor Kalev Sepp, at the Navel Postgraduate School in Monterey,
California, remarks (in the same article) that U.S. commanders decided
a year ago that a lighter, more patient approach was needed, but
it “remains an uphill battle to change the entire American
Army’s mindset after the Cold War and fighting with the formula
of speed and firepower.” 

Good grief. At Hotel Satire we are shocked at this unmanly “killing
lite” scenario, which is more proof of the burgeoning penile
erectile crisis. 

Sure, the emasculating crisis has been coming on since the late
1960s gals’ libber movement demanded the right for gals to
be men, thereby upsetting the gender hierarchy as ordained by God,
himself, via man, who was made in His image—not hers, for Chrissakes!
Bad enough men have been asked to stop treating gals as playthings
and underlings, now men (and gal troops trying to be men) are being
asked to reduce their kill quotas? 

Fortunately, there are some positive signs, arising from two different
quarters. The first is the trial this spring of Jacob Zuma, the
former deputy president of South Africa, who was acquitted of rape,
using the “she asked for it defense.” The other positive
sign comes from some advertisers who are doing their damnedest to
ensure that gals remain the fruit baskets they were ordained to

In the case of Jacob Zuma, according to the May 10

New York Times

Zuma stated in his defense that, “his accuser indicated that
she wanted sex by the way she sat while wearing a knee-length skirt…
and that it was his duty as a man to accommodate her.” The
judge in the case ruled that the sex (between 64-year-old Zuma and
the 31-yearold daughter of an associate) was consensual. Thankfully,
Zuma retains enormous public support and may “still run for
president”—in spite of the fact that many feel he was
irresponsible in not wearing a condom—although the concern
was not for the gal (or for the rape), but for Zuma, that he might
contract AIDS.

Zuma’s acquittal will surely have a positive effect on the
Duke Lacrosse rape case. When are gals going to realize that they
are always, by definition, asking for it. And that males, by definition,
deserve to get it (i.e., have gals at their disposal, anywhere,

As for advertisers, there are signs that they are no longer pawns
of the feminazis in their midst— such as those who must have
created the full-page Sprint ad in the


of April 13. This
disgusting ad features a career gal holding a Sprint Mobile Broadband
Card next to the text, “I’m a card-carrying Yes-Man.”
Yikes. Look at what gal libbers hath wrought! 

Of course, advertisers have always been helpful in defining the
genders. For instance, without ads, we’d never know that Mom
gals prefer flowers, chocolates, and soft cuddly stuffed teddy bears
while Dads prefer golf balls. But these ads have been no challenge
to feminazi attempts to liberate gals from their assigned roles. 

Fortunately, there are signs that ads will now be more aggressive
about restoring men to their proper place at the top of the gender
order. How, you ask? Through “behavioral targeting.” In
the May 8

New York Times

there’s a full-page ad for
the FX TV Channel announcing “Demographics + Behavior = DemographFX.”
The ad claims that research proves that “lifestyle and purchasing
behaviors can be tied to viewing patterns….” Which means
“you can buy the best viewers in the television audience for
your client.” So if advertisers can sell to certain behaviors,
they can surely determine the behaviors they want to sell to. Get
it? And the access is “incredible.” According to a multi-page
spread in the May 8


issue, called “TV Upfront,”
advertisers will be massively expanding their efforts to reach not
only the millions who watch TV an average of 30 hours a week, but
also the millions of cell phone and Internet users. (President Bush’s
very manly collecting of information on millions of U.S. citizens
should be helpful to advertisers in their expanded behavior marketing

This increase in advertising barrages based on pre-determined behaviors
will surely help encourage proper galness. Therefore, we were excited
to receive an email about a new energy drink called “HER,”
the only energy drink formulated specifically for women! (HER is
an acronym for Healthy Energy Revitilizer). Appropriately, HER is
packaged in a thin, pink can and will fill a “long-empty niche.”
Hmm. HER for her and her pink niche, Red Bull for his dwindling
you know whats. 

But the most exciting challenge to feminazi domination is the latest
Burger King TV commercial where we discover one of the reasons behind
male erectile dysfunction—female dietary oppression. In the
Burger King ad, our young white male hero is dining with his galfriend
in an upscale restaurant. The waiter serves tiny unrecognizable
morsels on an attractively designed plate. Our hero rises in disgust,
and marches, singing, out of the restaurant and heads for a Burger
King that (inexplicably) happens to be nearby (hey, we didn’t
create this commercial). As he approaches the Burger King, still
singing, an African American male emerges with a double whopper
in hand, which he extends to the sky in victory (as if prevented
by some dominating gal until now; and somewhat reminiscent of the
black athletes’ protest at the Mexico City Olympic Games in

Other men leave their puny (i.e., feminine/ist) meals served by
male waitors (possibly gay, clearly “sissies” for staying
behind) and join the “protest.” They pass an apartment
building where a sheet is unfurled from the window with the words
“Eat This Meat” and another appears with the words “I
Am Man.” 

As men continue to leave their meager feminazi designer meals and
join the march/singing, an Asian man (what else?) cracks a concrete
block in half with his karate-trained hand; other men burn what
appear to be jockstraps (we know it doesn’t make sense, but we didn’t
write this commercial, so lay off). As the crowd of singing militant
men marches in the streets, they pass a trio of professional looking
males flexing their muscles and a few construction workers ripping
into whoppers. It seems this feminist  meat-deprivation crosses
class and race lines.

The protest ends on a bridge where the crowd manfully pushes what
looks like a family van (feminine?) off the side. It lands on a
dump truck in the street below being pulled by a “beefy man”
who appears to be competing in the Strongest Man competition. He
is pulling the truck/van combo toward the prize, which is—you
guessed it—a Texas double whopper held like the proverbial
carrot and stick by (what else) a beautiful “sexy babe.”
Thus, the man is restored to manness through rejecting feminazi
meals (which don’t include beef?!) and winning the right to
beef and babe (who knows her proper place—beefing up her man). 

It was hard to catch some of the words, but we’ve recreated
the song as best we can. The question marks represent words we couldn’t
quite get. The tune, if you haven’t guessed it, is to Helen
Reddy’s feminazi  anthem “I Am Woman.” 

I am man, hear me roar

In numbers too big to ignore

And I’m way too hungry to settle for chick food. 

’Cause my stomach’s startin’

     to growl

And I’m going on the prowl

For a Texas Double Whopper,

Man, that’s good 

Oh, yes, I’m a guy

I’ll admit I’ve been fed quiche 

Oh, weight-loss(?) food bye, bye, Now it’s for whopper
beef I reach 

I will eat this meat

Until my belly(?) turns into an alley 

I am starved, I am incorrigible

And I’m gonna stuff a big burger, beef, bacon, jalapeno,
good thing down 

I am hungry

I am incorrigible

I am Man 

VOICEOVER: The Texas Double Whopper. Eat like a man, Man. 

So take that you femcomlesbo gals and your regime of emasculating
restaurant meals! We also love the fact that the male liberators
for beef are able to take over streets and highways, burn underwear,
toss vans off bridges with nary a cop in sight to tear gas, beat
heads, and make arrests. That’s because this was a manly protest,
rather than those simpering  marches for such  emasculting
things as peace and justice. 

While many have commented that this ad is all in fun, these folks
clearly don’t get behavioral marketing. We’re certain
the “I Am Man” slap in the face will increase the number
of young professional males going to Burger King and in the process
help free all men everywhere from the erectile dysfuntion pandemic
brought on by libber gals demands for such emasculating things as
equal rights, equal pay control over their own bodies (puhleaze),
and designer meals. 

We do feel that the ad could go further than just the demand for
the right to a Texas double whopper (as in whop-her). So we have
come up with our own commercial, inspired by Burger King, as well
as the aforementioned horror of advising our troops in Iraq to be
more sensitive about their killing. 

Our ad features a U.S. soldier attending one of Lt. Chiarelli’s
sensitivity sessions. Our hero rises in disgust and marches to the
weapons armory/depot to grab an M-16 or three. He is joined by soldiers
leaving other sessions on lite killing and marching from all corners
of Iraq, holding their weapon of choice in the air, then burning
a few “insurgents,” karate-chopping a few civilians, oops,
we mean insurgents, and strafing a town or two before heading to
Iran, then on to the U.S.-Mexican border to take on a few civilians,
oops, we mean illegals. All the while, singing: 

I am man, hear me roar

In numbers too big to ignore

I’m way too manly to settle for

chick rule 

My voice is starting to growl

And I’m going on the prowl

For an Iraqi to give a double

whopping to

Man, that’s good. 

Yes, I’m a guy

And I’ll admit I’ve been fed a lie

So chickie lib bye, bye 

Now it’s my M-16 for which I reach

I will kill any Iraqi I meet

And stuff a rifle butt, nuke, grenade down their throats 

I am insensitive

I am a killer

I am Man 

VOICEOVER: Take a Texas double whopping 

Kill like a Man, Man 

Don’t you just get chills? Well, goodbye for now from Hotel
Satire where men and their big whoppers are back in business, so
to speak. As for gals (and Iraq, Iran, etc.), well, they’ve
been asking for it and they’re gonna keep getting it.

Sargent is a co-founder of South End Press and

Z Magazine

and has been on the staff of


since 1988.