The grand tradition of dystopia in literature and film has brought us 1984, The Long Walk, The Matrix, A Clockwork Orange, Brave New World, Planet of The Apes and Gattaca, in no particular order. Now add Mike Judge’s Idiocracy to that list, starring Luke Wilson and that-guy-from-“Punk’d,” Dax Shepard. It would seem that far-off, distant and horrifying future is finally here: A time when mediocre actors are in the position to make mediocre films commenting on America’s mediocrity.

It’s the year 2505, and Joe Bowers (Wilson), a guy that was average in all things 500 years ago, emerges from a state of dry freeze as the most intelligent person in America since, as the wise voiceover informs us, natural selection now favors mankind’s stupidest traits. Doctors, lawyers and other brains waited to have children, what with all the unsettling factors of the here and now, so the dummies—those who can’t help but fuck like rabbits—have inherited the earth. Luckily Wilson is catapulted to the White House to fix all our nation’s problems.

But whatever errors in logic Idiocracy makes, it compensates for with precious (few) moments of truth—recognizable elements from our own world only slightly distorted that turn this spoof into a scary movie. Corporations have bought America’s regulatory agencies (a pseudo-Gatorade company controls the FDA); “Ow, My Balls” is the most popular television show (“Jackass,” but slightly more focused on the testicular region); and Fuddruckers has evolved into Buttfuckers. These things are hardly inconceivable, and they’re the aspects of Idiocracy that are most entertaining.

Like schoolyard bullies pre-programmed to give the under-developed kids wedgies, the American people ridicule and persecute Joe for his brainy ways. But of course, this is our chance to make fun of the, um, IQ-challenged. They speak a combination of hillbilly, valley girl and various incoherent grunts—we laugh unabashedly. Joe speaks moderately articulately and they call him a fag—we laugh, but know it’s wrong. Hospital staff members diagnosis by hitting a button with a picture of your ailment, a la McDonald’s. The guy who greets customers at the local national chain lifelessly repeats, “Welcome to Costco, I love you.” It seems the “rednecks” of Middle America are the last group we can mock without inciting Al Sharpton’s wrath. And mock these qualities we shall, lest the unhappy picture painted in Idiocracy comes to fruition soon enough.