MonsterVision's Joe Bob Briggs Looks At

Terminal Virus (19xx)

Donald Pleasence believes

"Joe Bob's Drive In Review" for January 26, 1997
By Joe Bob Briggs
Drive-In Movie Critic of Grapevine, Texas

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 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.
"I want EVERYBODY I have sex with to get the same medical benefits."
"Well, shoot, we don't really KNOW who fathered little Richie, but what the heck, he'll just have FOUR fathers if we get married right away."
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, Joe Bob, 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, NAAAAAAAWWWWWW. 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, in danger of poking her eyes at any moment, being chased by an oversexed, froth-mouth, goony-bird Mad Max reject. He gets what he wants, until a gang of mercenary soldiers led by the creepy Richard Lynch ride up in their broken-down "Desert Storm" jalopy 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 rat-a-tat-tat action king of Filipino filmmakers. So it can never decide whether to be a sexfest or a gunfest.

Obviously, my kinda movie.
Ninety-five dead bodies.
Sixteen breasts.
Exploding cars.
Exploding buildings.
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 of Westworld, 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, as the gal who can save the world with her bod, for saying, "Please don't make me!" and, "I'd rather die by a bullet than by the awful death you have planned."
And Susan Africa, as the queen of the Amazons who kills the bad guy right after she says, "Twenty-three years is more than any woman can take!"
Roger Corman, Executive Producer
Three stars.
Joe Bob says check it out.

"Terminal Virus" availability on video and on DVD from Amazon.com

JOE BOB'S America

for January 26, 1997
U.S 'SENSITIVITY TRAINING' WOULD'VE DONE STALIN PROUD "Remember what would happen in old Communist Russia if you were talking by the office cooler one day and you said something like: "You know what? I think maybe Comrade Stalin killed more people than he's letting on."
Of course, the FIRST thing that would happen is that a temporary vacuum would be created as everyone in the room gasped at the same time.
The second thing that would happen is that somebody would report you to your Political Officer.
The third thing that would happen is that you would be ORDERED to attend "Political Re-education Training" in a warehouse in Siberia. A couple of months later, when you returned to work, you'd say: "You know what? Comrade Stalin didn't kill ANYBODY, did he? It was Trotsky who did all the killing."
The only reason I bring this up is that, now that the Soviet Union is kaput, we've adopted the SAME THING in the United States.

It's called "Sensitivity Training."
All you have to do is say the wrong thing at work ONE TIME, get tattled on to your superior, and before you know it you're being given the choice of
a) losing your job, or
b) attending "Sensitivity Training."
It's just about the most humiliating thing that can happen to you. Let's say you're a professor of political science at Western Idaho State, and one day you're hanging around the faculty lounge, having a cigarillo, and your friend says to you,"Man, I saw that new Pamela Anderson Lee video over the weekend, and WHOOOOOAAAAA!" And you say, "Yep, those are a couple of major-league gazongas on her."
Now let's say that this conversation is OVERHEARD by Miz Candace "Estrogen-Deprived" Wanamaker. Candace goes to the head of the department and says she's been sexually harassed because she was forced to listen to a man make crude comments about female Nefertitis in her presence.
The head of the department tries to calm her down, but she won't quit. She files a formal complaint. A faculty committee looks into it. Other women support her claim. Pretty soon it gets up to the president, and he wants some way out of the whole thing, and so he says, "Sensitivity Training."
That means you end up sitting around a seminar room with a bunch of guys who are ALSO identified as white male creeps, and you listen to a dimwit sociologist drone on for days about the proper way to speak in public, and if you ARGUE with this woman-if you say, for example, that you don't think it's so bad that men joke in a MALE way, even if women are present-then she's gonna flunk your butt and report back to your boss that you ARE a sexist pig and you shouldn't be representing the university.
So you know what you do? You LIE. You give her all the answers she wants to hear. You say ANYTHING YOU HAVE TO SAY to get out of there and get back to your life. And then they pronounce you rehabilitated. You now have the proper attitude, the proper respect and the proper opinions.
You have been re-educated. You can re-enter society. You have become a Good Little Communist.

This is really happening in America, I kid you not.

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