This, I think, is where the genius and horror of Borat's explorations really lie: The joke is not on the U.S. or Kazakhstan or even the fake Kazakhstan of Cohen's imagination. The joke is on petrified, inward-looking nationalism of all stripes. What's funny is a jingoism so blinkered it can't see the joke in a fake Kazakh singing the fake Kazakh national anthem to the tune of the American one. (Or the irony, for that matter, in the malaprop: "I support your war of terror!")

More of Carina Chocano's LA Times piece.