We start out with a solar flare that completely destroys the universe. Oh wait, maybe not. We cut to the inside of some very intense, futuristic medical establishment where we have lots of interesting-looking machines and flashing lights. Some folks who normally race motorcycles have been hired to punch a lot of buttons and wear their helmets so we can’t see their faces.
We then get rapid-fire jump shots of urban street scenes and some nice graffiti title cards to let us know we’re somewhere in Japan, or at least trapped in an anime-inspired film about Japan. But the main story is back in that creepy medical building where somebody appears to be baking inside a giant burrito maker.
The microwave dings, and Kanye comes rolling out of one of the E-Z Bake oven, lying on a hospital gurney or maybe a high-end coffee table. He has electrodes and such attached to his body, so they might be testing him to see how many more hit singles he can produce. The helmet heads continue to run scans of Kanye using giant white Cheerios while the Daft-Punk sampling music continues in the background.
Cut to Kanye somewhere else, wearing those now-famous glasses that look like window blinds. He’s standing against a shadowy wall, being all street, while we get quick glimpses of a supermodel looking sultry and sporting an asymmetrical hairdo while neon glows behind her. Kanye likes to do dance moves that involve shoving his hands in his pockets, in case you need to take notes about that sort of thing.
Next we have some military people looking bored, a couple of folks who seem to be angry with those military people, more of Kanye on that coffee table, more of Kanye breaking it down for us in that alley, and shots of overcrowded city streets where no one seems to be happy. All of this is accompanied by the flashing Japanese words which probably explain exactly what is going on. Or maybe not. They might just be there for style and atmosphere.
Suddenly, we have a motorcycle gang racing along through the middle of town. We have no idea who invited them, what it’s all about, or why it’s so important that they get somewhere fast, but the brake lights (the few times that they use them) look pretty and blurry as they race past designer boutiques and startled woman lugging groceries that are probably far more healthy than anything an American would eat.
Kanye appears as a third version of himself, this one having something to do with wearing a hoodie while he’s bathed in golden light and standing in front of a bank vault door or at least something that’s metal and round. He seems to be upset. Are they not letting him get to one of his safety deposit boxes? Doesn’t he have his own bank at this point?
Next up is the supermodel again as she walks along inside some giant tube, pausing to do a few hip thrusts here and there to show that she’s multi-talented. Then she does something in front of a glass wall of neon tubes that magically allows her to clone herself and get sexy with her own image. Then Kanye comes along and nuzzles her neck from behind. She obviously has a far more exciting life than we do.
Now we have another supermodel (or at least another outfit) standing in the middle of a busy intersection and glaring at us. I’m not aware of what we might have done, but she clearly didn’t like it. Cut to one of the Kanye characters in a place with lots of pipes that don’t really seem to have a purpose, followed by Coffee Table Kanye still being digitally poked and prodded by the bike racing duo with the identity issues.
Next up is a nurse walking down a hospital corridor and dragging along one of those odd machines with the clear enema bag hanging from a pole. As she nears one of the patient rooms, we cut inside to see Kanye (Number five? Not sure.) writhing about on his bed like something wasn’t right with that Mexican platter he ordered. Nurse Lady opens the door, takes a gander inside, then runs screaming back down the hallway. (Honey, you’re supposed to make the patients feel better, not worse.)
Hysterica apparently alerts the authorities, because we suddenly have a whole pack of armored people stomping down the hallway, closing in on a slightly-sweaty Kanye who appears to be swathed in toilet paper. (No idea.) It seems that Kanye does not appreciate being confronted by strangers with guns, so he sends a mind beam their way that makes them fly into the air and presumably die. Kanye don’t play.
Cut back to those bored military people, who seem to be a bit more invested in the goings on now that there have been explosions and stuff. But they still don’t seem to be doing anything worthwhile, so I’m really not sure why they’re on the payroll.
Now we have a montage of the Kanye personalities, with Sunglasses Kanye repeatedly advising that it’s “not like I never told ya”. (I guess I missed a memo because I don’t remember him ever telling me anything. We don’t talk as much as we used to.) Anyway, Kanye gets over it and moves on to the rest of the song, while images of the Supermodel Lady are splashed on the wall behind him. (I may be mistaken, but she appears to be grooming his back with her tongue, in what might be one of those naughty wildlife games you read about on the Internet.)
Brief break in the lyrics so Kanye can perform some more choreography and repeatedly touch his nifty sunglasses to ensure that we see them. Then he’s back to singing while we get another montage, this one involving more of that eerie medical equipment, followed by shots of Supermodel Lady walking back down the strange tube, heading away from the place where she made love to herself in the mirror.
Oh wait, maybe she wasn’t done with the cloning business after all, because she’s back in front of the glass and now there are three of her, each of them straddling furniture and shimmying with burning heat and passion. But before any of them can reach an orgasm, we start getting shots of somebody spelling out something with a fancy gun that shoots neon paint. (Possibly a citation from the Health Department?) Then Kanye comes out to nuzzle Super Lady again and the video abruptly-
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