Glee returned, and returned to form, last night for a tortuously late, post–Super Bowl kickoff to season 2.5. And by “returned to form,” I mean that it both placed a marginally intriguing spin on its otherwise regurgible theme of adolescent status and muddled through its correlative plot lines with all the clarity and consistency of a Sarah Palin video press release. Also, since it is now apparently illegal to create any visual entertainments that fail to include the undead, there were zombies. Even more eerie than the stumbling brain-eaters, the best musical performance of the entire show was not the allegedly spectacular halftime show to which everyone has been alluding for nine weeks, but rather a slick, flowing, white-on-white, Dinah Shore–inflected, Ziegfeld-derived showcase cum shilling commercial for an archetypal domestic-car company. (I’m not sure at which alert level this places us on the ROY G. BIV-homosexual-takeover-of-America spectrum; we’ve either won, or lost.)Still, the episode’s narrative had a kernel of a concept, something to the effect of: united we stand, divided we retreat into our base instincts—which is what humans always do (except, that is, for the members of the Glee Club, who behave selflessly and thus doom themselves to a life of alleged outsider status, even though they are by far the best-looking, most talented, and most interesting people in their entire community, and are actively being featured on the most popular property in the history of the broadcast medium). Like life—or, like popular entertainment would have us think of life—the episode all came down to the endless cold war between Football, Cheerleading, and the Performing Arts.

Football: The football team, formerly the grotesque laughing stock of the show and school, has become successful this year, mainly because it now consists almost entirely of members of the Glee Club, who, as I mentioned above, are the only 12 people with brains or skills (or speaking parts) in the entire school. Sadly, the rest of the players are a bunch of stereotypical Neanderthals, meaning their efforts to accomplish anything positive are severely limited. Coach Bieste, unlike our current president, recognizes that this creates what is known as an “irremediable impasse”, and decides, also unlike our current president, to take a stand, attempting to convert the brutes by forcing them to join the Glee Club. This almost works. And by “almost works,” I mean, everyone puts on makeup, giggles, stomps around like the undead (or a band named after the undead), and learns what it is like to be made to feel both small and big-hearted. Then, finally, in the last 10 minutes of the episode, the usual Glee “plotting” takes over, and we’re served up girl football players, a crappy halftime mash-up, some last-minute changes of mind, heroics for a cause, and a successful win. And then, like in real life, the status quo is reinstated, and nothing changes. Waah-wah.

Cheerleading: Just when you thought that Sue antics couldn’t possibly get any more fortissimo, this week, the writers decided to bring in the big guns. Literally. Ms. Sylvester comes into possession of a cannon, and proceeds to go all “1812 Overture” on her Cheerios—and anyone else within reach of her mannish hands—for a forte possibile performance that lasts the entire episode. My girl Brittany is enlisted to become the explosive punchline in her coach’s dastardly ready-aim-firefight. But what exactly Sue has in mind for the big gun is never made clear, nor does it apparently need to be. I guess all we need/deserve to know is “Hey everyone! Sue’s got a cannon!!!” (My guess: Brittany was to be shot over the world’s largest pool of sharks.) In a wildly anti-Chekhovian move, the “writers” fail to make the gun go off. Also shocking, given the on-the-nose nature of nearly every one of the program’s song selections, the Breeders were not invoked.

Glee: Remember that episode of The Brady Bunch where Peter is mercilessly teased by his peers on the football team for his interest in joining the choir, that is until L.A. Rams lineman Deacon Jones appears and lets him know that it’s O.K. to be a foppish little show queen? Same thing here. Except, as a means of demonstrating how “cool” glee-ing is, imagine Aaron Rodgers singing a song by Lady Antebellum. (Did you just feel your “cool erection” deflate? I did!) Shockingly, this tactic almost works on Karofsky, who is champing to trade in his cleats for Capezios and begin grooming unicorns with the rest of the team. (FORESHADOWING!!!) In other news, in the bizarro world that is Homo Hogwarts, being a dude and singing a cappella versions of Destiny’s Child songs still places you at the top of the social spectrum, not that anything else ever seems to happen at that school except guys standing around singing a cappella versions of Destiny’s Child songs. Also, Kurt, Blaine, Rachel, and Mercedes go to Starbucks. Talk about cool!

Song Rating (* to *****)

• “Need You Now” (Lady Antebellum) * Look guys. We’re “cool.”

• “She's Not There” (The Zombies) *** Get it? Zombies! But good makeup, and at least somewhat fun.

• “Bills, Bills, Bills” (Destiny’s Child) ** Is this the only room in this school?

• “Thriller/Heads Will Roll” (Michael Jackson/The Yeah Yeah Yeahs) Mash-up = zero stars. Also, shouldn’t there have been choreography?

Gayest Moment

• Finn and Sam shoving one another and nearly getting into a fistfight.

Photo Credit: FOX.

Related: All of our Glee coverage, including exclusive interviews, videos, features, and our weekly re-caps.

Brett Berk writes gaily about culture, politics, and cars for VF.com, and is the author of The Gay Uncle’s Guide to Parenting. Visit him at www.brettberk.com or follow him on Twitter.