Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy, what are we gonna do with you, boy?
You can’t go on the radio in Dee Cee and say black people have thighs the size of Libya and almost everybody that plays pro sports has darker skin than Jayne Kennedy. We are into some serious media probs here, Jimbo.
You are obviously in need of the Joe Bob Briggs Rehabilitations-for-Accused-Bigots Therapy which means, first off, you got to drive to Tulsa and ask Oral Roberts to raise your career from the dead. Then you got to start intensive training, do a coast-to-coast radio talk show tour, and every single program you appear on, I want you to say the following things. That is, if you expect America to take you back.
Numero Uno: Make sure the first thing you say is, “I have absolutely no idea why the National Basketball Associations is 85 percent black. I never think about it. In fact, I never had even noticed it until you brought it up. There’s probly not any cultural reason. In fact, you know what it is? Coincidence. It’s total coincidence. It’ll probly all change over to 85 percent Mexican next year.”
Number Two-o: Say, “Now that we’re into these unfounded racist stereotypes, let me make a second point. Most Chinese people are extremely tall. It’s the narrow-minded bigotry of the white supremacist society that perceives them as smaller than us.”
Numero Three-o: “Iranians are great drivers. People should be required to take driving tests from Iranians.”
Numero Four-o: “You know what I love? The quiet modest of the Eyetalian people, the way the never speak unless spoken to.”
Numero Five-o: “One thing we got to get rid of is the idea that people in Mississippi talk different than I do. I don’t notice any difference, do you? There must be some sick bigots out there spreading rumors about it. Probly the people up in Tennessee.”
Numero Six-o: “Polish people make great popes, don’t they?”
Numero Seven-o: “It’s high time we had more Vietnamese in the National Football League. I don’t mind being the first to say it–these people are being treated like they don’t have the physical attributes fro the game.”
Numero Eight-o: “let’s talk Jewish jockeys. When was the last one? Hymie Rabinowitz, who ran in the 1957 Kentucky Derby but was disqualified because he didn’t use a horse. There’s an unwritten rule about the big horse tracks–no Jews on the thoroughbreds.”
Numero Nine-o: “Are there any Hispanic jockeys? No, I hadn’t noticed that.”
Numero Ten-o: “Yes, I’m Greek. Of course, I hadn’t noticed I was Greek. Oh, you noticed, because of the name, ‘The Greek.’ You know I forgot that was on there. I think it’s a coincidence, though.”
This’ll get you back on TV, Jimbo.
Speaking of movies where you never notice what color the actors are, I saw PENITENTIARY III last week, starring the incredibly thin-thighed Leon Isaac Kennedy, and written directed by Jamaa Fanaka, who’s probly an Arab guy. Now one thing I wanna make perfectly clear right here at the beginning–it is just coincidence that almost all the prisoners are black guys and they always get beat up and abused by white guys. If we weren’t looking at this movie thorough bigoted eyes, then we might not even notice there black guys in it. So that’s the last I got to say about that.
So what we got here is Leon being Leon. You know, it’s not enough that he had to go through the Big D with Jayne, but now he gets framed for the third time and tossed in the joint for killa Meskin guy in the ring. (I didn’t know he was Meskin, somebady had to tell me.) Once he gets to teh Crossbar Hotel, he refuses to fight in the big tournament between the warden’s fighters and teh fighters owned by the silk-shirt homosexual Mafia guy Serenghetti and his transvestite girlfriend. So you know what Serenghetti does? Sends a superhuman homosexual killer midget in chains to to crush Leon’s skull with his thighs. But Leon beats the midget up so bad that Serenghetti says “Oh, poo!” and orders his Cro-Magnon to throw Leon in the dungeon and give him electro-shock therapy until he begs for Petticoat Junctions reruns. But then Leon starts to like living in the dungeon, cause he can keep pet rats down there and train a white saxopohne player to box and sometimes have sex with the director’s wife. But then Serenghetti juices up one of the boxers with killer drugs and he almost kills the sax player and mashin his sax. This is too much for Leon to take, and so he vows that he won’t rest until he beats the bejabbers out of a white guy with huge thighs.
Really–this one is better than the original, maybe the best flick of the year.
We got zero breasts. (Director’s wife Fu.) Four galls blood. Four dead bodies. Opium-induced rat killing. Aardvarking. Midget Yoga. Gratuitous tenor sax. Gratuitous four-part harmony in a prison. Excellent gratuitous lesbian boxing. Kung Fu. Body Slam Fu. Dungeon Fu. Rat Fu. Electro-shock Fu. Drive-In Academy Awards nominations for Rick Zumwalt, as the giant Dolph Lundgren white guy, for saying “You can flush your manhood down the toilet”; the Haiti Kid, as the maniac homosexual killer midge with a crowbar, for the greatest fight scene in prison-movie history; Jim Baily, as Cleopatra, for hanging around Serenghetti’s cell in evening dresses; Ric Mancini, as the warden, for saying “You have fight Sever. The call him Severe because he whips–severely” and “You know what your trouble is, Serenghetti? You’ve seen too many bad prison movies”‘ Leon Isaac Kennedy, as Too Sweet Gordone, for doing the entire movie in 20 words, and saying “Now they made me do something I didn’t wanna do”; and Anthony Geary, as the weirdo transvestite gang leader, for saying, “You didn’t win nothing, Too Sour,” and “Use the shocker on him. I want humble. I want broken.”
Best of ’88 so far. Joe Bob says check it out.