The Daily Tar Heel Thursday, February 19, 19875
exploring a past life
we
with
mtn
A long time ago, in my fifth past
life, 1 was an Indonesian bamboo
stripper named Felix and 1 worked
for the Rajah of Punjab.
I got 340 magpies for working a
16-hour day, but I didn't mind
because at night I would get to go
home to my clay hut and play with
my pet weasel. The weasel's name,
of course, was Shirley MacLaine.
"Shirley." 1 would say, "what were
you before you were a weasel?"
And Shirley would say, "Moogl
moogl moogl."
. This is the only sound a weasel can
make.
So then 1 would go and get the
village witch doctor, Clarence the
Witch Doctor, and Clarence would
come over and stuff Shirley into an
earthen jar and bang on the side until
it was revealed to Clarence who the
weasel was in his past life, and on
come nights Ramtha would come out
of the jar and we'd shoot the breeze
talkin' about what a bummer it was
that you can't understand what those
people from Atlantis are sayin' 'cause
they have so much water in their
lungs, and then sometimes, if we were
real lucky, Ramtha would charge us
4,800 magpies an hour (300 modern
dollars) and predict the future.
"Some day this weasel will have
many jerk boyfriends," said Clarence
in broken Indonesian. And then there
was a mighty whoosh of wind and
Ramtha jumped out and said, "Yeah,
but she can take five gross points and
a back-end pay-or-play talent con
tract on the miniseries rights."
And then Ramtha went into this
long deal about how it wasn't just
any ordinary weasel. Someday this
weasel would put on a canary-yellow
jumpsuit and run around pinnin'
Jerry Lewis against the wall and
plantin' kisses all over his face. And
then after that the weasel would put
on some pink underwear and start
kickin' the backside of Juliet
Prowse's dress in "Can-Can." And
then after that she would join the Rat
Pack and make a bunch of movies
where she gets to scrunch up her eyes
and squeal a lot. And then she'd go
to Tibet and sit on top of a mountain
and not shave her legs for a week.
And then she'd buy a place in Malibu
and put in a hot mineral bath where
she could meditate about life and
how much she can't stand Debra
Winger. And then she'd go to South
America and start yellin out "1 am
God, 1 am God," until somebody
snatched up the paperback rights,
and then, of course, she'd be one of
the great spiritual leaders of herself
of all time. .
After I got finished rammin 17
punji sticks through the weasel's
throat and watchin' it die a long,
slow, agonizing death, Ramtha
promised me all the danger was gone.
All 1 had to do was one remember
ONE simple little thing:
Never EVER allow the weasel to
perform "Steam Heat" in Vegas.
If that ever happens, Ramtha said,
he would not be responsible for the
consequences.
Speaking of sudden, messy deaths
of terrifying creatures, "The
Kindred" has more gopher-gut-spewing
than any movie put out tn
recent years, and may be the all-time
Joe Bob Brigs
At the Drive-! n
Slime Champion. What we got here
is Rod Steiger as a crazy doctor who
likes to cross human cells with giant
jellyfish cells and see what happens.
What he gets is a whole hospital full
of zombie gill-people with faces like
a squashed taco salad. Every time
somebody dies in a car wreck, the
ambulance driver brings 'em to Rod
while the ticker is still pumpin' so
he can splice some more land sharks
together.
"Unfortunately, Kim Hunter knows
what he's doing. Remember Kim?
"STELLA! STELLA!" That Kim?
Well, now she's REAL old and so
she's laying around in Intensive Care
waitin' to die, only first she wants
her son, the handsome young wimp
doctor, to go out and destroy all her
journals and experiments out in the
house where Anthony lives.
"Who's Anthony?" the son says.
"Your brother," she tells him. Only
he DONT HAVE A BROTHER.
So then the doctor and a bunch
of scientists go out to the house to
see who Anthony is and they find
but Anthony is livin' in the cellar,
and he's about 95 feet tall and looks
like a giant octopus with herpes, and
when you make him mad he sprays
white donkey-pus right in your eyes.
'Course, they dont find this out till
there's three extremely painful TV
dinners for Anthony, includin' one
British Lady who gets turned into a
froth-mouth alligator gar, but fortu
nately there's one thing that'll make
Anthony go away: Liquid Drano.
Genetic DNA Fu. Two breasts,
sort of. Six dead bodies. One dead
Audi. Two motor vehicle chases, with
two crach-and-burns. Fish kiss.
Watermelon attack. Vicious fetus
monkey attack. Ambulance driver
eatin'. Lizard-tail dog-eating. An 82
on the vomit meter. IV Fu. Gill Fu.
Liquid Drano Fu. Drive-In Academy
Award nominations for: Talia Bal
sam, as the girlfriend, for saying, "I
don't have time; right now I have to
finish this dissertation"; Amanda
Pays, as the evil devil girl, for saying
"Let's drink to memories that don't
get made"; Anthony, the slime-head
monster, for being named after Kim
Hunter's favorite saint; and Rod
Steiger, for saying "You can't kill
him! You can't destroy this creature!
He's your brother!" Four stars.
' Drive-In Videos this week: "3 Nuts
in Search of a Bolt" (1964): Starring
Mamie Van Doren modelin' the
Frederick's of Hollywood catalog,
including a production number (!)
with the Queen of the Drive-In in
a silver-sequin spaghetti strap spill-it-all-out
hip-hugger evening gown.
Starring, directed, written, produced
by the little weenie Tommy Noonan,
the drive-in Jerry Lewis, who agrees
to go to the psychiatrist in place of
Mamie and the two guys she lives
with, to save money. Very sixties.
One of Mamie's best. Four stars. "
"White Cannibal Queen" (?): One
of those Eyetalian shipwrecked-in-the-Amazon
classics, with luscious
Sabrina Siana as the girl who is raised
by bloodthirsty intestine-eating can
nibals. Full of gut-riping, back
spearing, arm-hacking, fertility
dancing, five-minute wife-chomping
scenes, and lines line "This forest is
full of unexpected deep holes. A 97
on the Vomit Meter. Three stars.
Joe Bob says check 'em out.
Joe Bob's Mailbag
Communist Alert! NOBODY
TOLD ME last year when the Arden
Drive-In in Sacramento was bul
ldozed to put up a tacky Hilton and
somethin' called an "industrial park"
and now it's TOO LATE. Start
send in' in those cards before they rip
'em down. Remember, without eter
nal vigilance, it can happen here. To
discuss the meaning of life with Joe
Bob, or to get a copy of his distin
guished newsletter, write Joe Bob
Briggs. P.O. Box 33. Dallas, Texas
75221.
Dear Joe Bob: God bless you, Joe
Bob! Here is our life savings. My wife
and I worked 40 years to save that
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In "The Kindred," Julia Montgomery finds out what happens when
you don't do those home repairs on time
money. Maude took on laundry,
specializing in smelly socks. My job
was to hose down the Senate Por
nography Committee after they
finished examining the evidence.
Maude needs the money for a head
transplant, but we know that Anal
Roberts needs it more. And while
you're at it, Joe Bob, why don't you
ask God to teach Frank Gifford some
new cliches? Claude and Maude,
Dallas
Dear Clyde and Maude: God can't
make 'em up that fast.
Dear Joe Bob: IVe read some film
criticisms, but Pauleen Kael can't
hold a candle to you. You are a
genius! I wrote you a poem!
Joe Bob
Joe Bob
Joe Joe Joe Joe
Bob
John I.. Lander. Lawrence.
KAN.
Dear John: Normally 1 don't like
high-ku, but there's somethin' about
that one. 1 don't know what it is.
but there's somethin' about it I just
love..
IW7 Universal Press Syndicate
rKKa , Smith
THE BlCi PICTl'RE TOUR
Tuesday, March 17
8:00 pm
Memorial Hall
Carolina Union Box Office
12-6 PM
962-1449
Tickets
Stuaents $12"
Non-studenfsx $13"
After er2Q: AH 53'