You know why I think gay marriage is a good idea? 'Cause if they start letting the lesbos and the Castro Street beach boys get hitched, then what they're gonna be saying is, "Anybody that wants to be married for ANY reason, it's OKAY WITH US.''
And I think that's gonna make a bunch of weirdo Utah religious cults really happy. As soon as the gays get their licenses, some black-suited preacher from the desert is gonna show up before the legislature and say, "I can finally follow my religious principles and get married to all EIGHT of these women I've been living with.''
Because, if gay marriage is OK, then polygamy oughta be OK, too, right? I mean, the main reason we're okaying gay marriage is that we think it's none of the government's durn business, right? And if it's none of the government's durn business about THAT, then it shouldn't be any of the government's durn business if somebody with some kinko religious beliefs wants to say, "Will you accept these women as your lawful wedded wives?''
And it's not just the Mormon types, either. A lot of Arabs go for this multiple-wife stuff. Then you got your Vegas swingers, guys who don't have any religious beliefs, but they want one of those three-way porno-star marriages. Two women and a guy. Three guys and one woman. Two hermaphrodites and a walrus. You name it, and there's SOMEBODY who'll wanna make it legal.
Of course, then there are the guys like me, who spend most of their waking hours trying to find ONE woman who registers below a 49 on the Psycho Scale and doesn't bitch about cigar smoke. What if one of 'em said, "Well, I don't really wanna just DATE, but if you'll agree to get married to this big dogpile full of people we've got over here, then ... ''
On second thought, NAAWW. I don't think so. But I'm telling you. It's coming. When it happens, just remember, Joe Bob said it first.
And speaking of Kinkarama, this week's flick is "Terminal Virus,'' one of those after-the-apocalypse thingies, only this time the twist is that the whole world is infected with a virus that makes it impossible to have sex. If a man and a woman make the sign of the Triple-Gilled Sea Monkey, they both die INSTANTLY. And this has gone on for TWENTY-THREE YEARS! You can imagine what the sleazy guys have on THEIR minds, right?
So in the first scene, we have the generously endowed topless maiden Nikki Fritz running across the desert being chased by an oversexed, froth-mouth "Mad Max'' reject. He gets what he wants, until a gang of mercenary soldiers led by the creepy Richard Lynch rides up in their broken-down jeeps and put an arrow in the guy's back for failing to observe safe sex. Safe sex in the future actually means NO sex, which is why Richard is determined to blow up anyone threatening to have sex--and to make things simpler, he's also decided just to shoot all women on sight.
Fortunately, a band of Amazons in short-shorts and tube tops have set up their own fortress city, where they wage war against the male imperialist murderers. Things are going along just swimmingly, with the ladies taking plenty of open-air showers, until James Brolin and Bryan Genesse show up to kidnap one of the lovelies and force her to use the new super-duper anti-virus serum that MIGHT make it possible to have sex again.
They take her to a secret underground lab, shoot her up with serum, and try to force her to do the horizontal lambada with a geek captured from Lynch's army. Unfortunately, it takes more than a Kenny G album and a glass of merlot to create an aardvarkisaurus, if you know what I mean and I think you do.
So before they can send the happy sperm on its way, Lynch attacks, and we end up with an all-out war between the sexes, complete with bazookas, machine-guns, and a whole lot of twisted metal. The good news is that the drop-dead kidnap victim has done a Patty Hearst and is starting to show a little interest in making the sign of the Twin-Finned Couch Walrus. There's actual HOPE for the continuation of civilization.
This flick is a strange collaboration between director Dan Golden, who won the Drive-In Academy Award for "Naked Obsession,'' and producer Cirio Santiago, the action king of Filipino filmmakers. So it can never decide whether to be a sexfest or gunfest.
Obviously, my kinda movie.
Ninety-five dead bodies. Sixteen breasts. Exploding cars. Four motor vehicle chases, with multiple crash-and-burns.
Arrow to the back. Pistol-to-the-temple euthanasia. Four gun battles. Outdoor cremation ritual. Flaying. Bottle to the face.
Flaming extra. Gratuitous cobra. Gratuitous strip poker. Kung fu. Uzi fu.
Drive-In Academy Award nominations for:
*James Brolin, as the soldier who's sentenced to death and says, "Will this go on my permanent record?''
*Bryan Genesse, as the 20-year-old virgin who says, "Do you still remember how to do it?''
*Kehli O'Byrne, for saying, "I'd rather die by a bullet than by the awful death you have planned.''
Joe Bob says check it out.
Joe Bob's Find That Flick
This week's head-trip comes from Bob Francis of Fort Worth, Texas.:
"I have been trying to find a flick for which I saw a preview in 1966 or '67. The preview ran during a showing of 'The Seven Faces of Dr. Lao.'
"I was 11 years old at the time, and my buddies and I were rather spellbound by this preview of some Jason and the Argonauts-type flick that involved this harem dancer wearing virtually nothing. Her primary covering was two snakeskins over her ample breasts with a cobra head covering her nipples.
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"Needless to say, us 11-year-olds were mighty, mighty interested in this attire. As I recall, the flick was in color, but that could simply be my hormones filling in the details.
"According to the preview, this woman was in the film a lot because they showed her often, much to our delight. That could have just been marketing, of course.''
A video will be awarded to the correct answer. (The winner chooses from our library of titles.) In the event of a tie, a drawing will be held. Send "Find That Flick'' questions and solutions to Joe Bob Briggs, P.O. Box 2002, Dallas, Texas 75221. You can also fax them to 213-462-5982 or e-mail them to Joe Bob on the Internet: firstname.lastname@example.org. (E-mail entries must include a postal mailing address.)
1997 Joe Bob Briggs (Distributed by NYT Special Features)