On Wednesday, hours after Trey Parker and Matt Stone signed a $1.5 billion, 50-episode deal with Paramount, the 27th season premiere of “South Park” aired on Comedy Central. Like most episodes of “South Park,” it featured a heavy dose of naughty words that my editor probably won’t let me write without using asterisks. Unlike most episodes of “South Park,” this one elicited an official condemnation from the White House:
“The Left’s hypocrisy truly has no end — for years they have come after ‘South Park’ for what they labeled as ‘offense’ [sic] content, but suddenly they are praising the show. Just like the creators of South Park, the Left has no authentic or original content, which is why their popularity continues to hit record lows.” The statement went on to declare the show “fourth rate” and “irrelevant.”
Trey and Matt must be absolutely delighted.
It seems the billion-dollar nose-tweakers behind “South Park” have the president pegged; after writing the odious, bigoted, cowardly Eric Cartman character for almost 30 years, they know the psyche of MAGA world better than just about anyone. They must have hoped that Trump would not be able to resist responding.
It’s clear that it’s the MAGA-fied edgelords in the audience who should, like Cartman, feel useless.
In the opening moments of the episode, titled “Sermon on the ’Mount,” Stan, Kyle, Kenny and Cartman notice that things have changed in South Park. Cartman, who has always been a selfish and cruel loudmouth, is dismayed when his supply of schadenfreude is cut off with the cancellation of NPR, which Cartman describes as “the funniest show ever where all the lesbians and Jews complain about stuff.”
The strangeness continues at a school assembly, when the boys find that PC Principal — who for the last several seasons has strutted around in wraparound shades enforcing a rigid liberal orthodoxy — has gone full youth pastor, declaring himself Power Christian Principal and inviting Jesus Christ himself to South Park Elementary.
Cartman spirals further when he discovers at school that none of his edgelord histrionics elicit a reaction from people like they used to. He’s no longer the only one openly hating Jewish people or using gay slurs — being a bigot in the open is acceptable now. “Woke is dead,” he laments to his friend and frequent target of abuse, Leopold “Butters” Stotch. He adds, “I used to laugh, Butters. I used to have fun. But I’m not special anymore. So what’s the point of me even existing?”
As the people of South Park grumble about the changes in their town and the intrusion of Jesus in their public school, they watch a news report explaining why this is all happening: President Donald Trump threatens to sue anybody who doesn’t do what he says.
At the show’s midpoint, Trump makes his “South Park” debut. (In previous seasons, the teacher Mr. Garrison played a sort of Donald Trump-like role.) Longtime fans of the show may recognize Trump’s voice and animation style; he sounds exactly the same as the character of Saddam Hussein from early seasons and the 1999 film “South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut.” Also like the Hussein of old-school “South Park,” Trump is depicted with a photorealistic head that flaps open and closed when he speaks, affixed to a crudely animated body made of cutout rectangles. Like the character of Hussein, “South Park’s” Trump is also in a sexual relationship with Satan, who complains that Trump reminds him of one of his exes. (It’s pretty clear where this subplot is eventually headed.)
But unlike with Hussein’s character, we see in multiple scenes that Trump, along with an obsession with his virility, has a micropenis.
Jesus later admits to the people of South Park that the reason he’s at the school is because Paramount made a deal with Trump and he’s forced to be there to avoid more litigation, echoing Paramount and other institutions’ capitulation to threats from the administration. The episode concludes with the townsfolk settling a threatened lawsuit from the president by agreeing to pay him millions of dollars and create pro-Trump content.








