| We all go through transitions in life (this is starting out pretty
snazzy, ain't it?). I remember a certain teacher I had who had something
to say about that. Her name was Mrs. Quinto, and she was a lovable
lady. She was only four feet tall, wore more leather than a cow,
and had a club foot which she was likely to whip out at a moment's notice
-- but nevertheless, she was a lovable lady. It may have been her
height, or maybe it was that she was all withered up like a Sunsweet prune
(as I understand it, they're the sweetest prune available), but she was
like my own personal Yoda. And one of the important nuggets of wisdom
she imparted to me was, "You might be a big fish in a little pond now,
but when you go to college it'll be the other way around". Of course,
she also enjoyed regaling a few select students with stories about how
she used to "do the stuff" with Mick Jagger, but that's neither here nor
there.
Where am I going with this, you ask? Well, I did end up having a transition after all -- one that made me feel like a child in a world full of giants -- or some other large humanoid creature. You may understand that I consider myself something of the bad movie connosieur (although I probably can't spell it). Here I have plodded along, criticizing and enjoying films of all the worst kind. Fantasy movies, cop school movies, orangutangs as comic foils movies, late-night junx movies (this was my major in school) and of course, the original recipe 1950's b-movies AND the extra-crispy 1980's video rental 'return to crap' movies. And so I came to the Internet, confident in my knowledge, ready to join this vast communal island of bad movie philosopher kings!  The Mexican Wrestling Movie. If you already know what I'm talking about, I bow to you. You, sir, are my superior, my better. If we were in Ancient Greece and I was Ulysses, you -- you, my friend, would be my Mentor. As is it, I'd like to apply for an internship with your corporation. Do I get a stipend or just course credit? If you're lost, please, please don't despair. We're both in the same boat. You see, even now, I myself have never seen a Mexican Wrestling Movie. "And you call yourself a bad movie lover! Blasphemy!" It's true. I couldn't even tell you what "Mexican Wrestling Movie" means -- I mean, do they really wrestle? Are they horrors unimaginable or mind-bending spoofs of themselves? I'm ashamed to admit my ignorance. I even considered writing a column about how truly awful Mexican Wrestling Movies in order to make myself a creditable Badmovieologist. These are the depths to which I was willing to go. And then I realized that I had a mission. Like Sir Lancelot, I
am on a quest for the Holy Grail! Like Sir Lancelot, I may be destined
to search in vain, only to lead others to the prize! Like Sir Lancelot,
I've given considerable thought to sleeping with my best friend's hot wife!
Maybe that part isn't important, but who are we to question the gods?
But someone is. Somewhere out there, one of my dedicated brethren is looking for a challenge. He or she or it has seen everything bad under the sun, except one thing. The Mexican Wrestling Movie. So good luck, brothers and sisters. Me and King Arthur (er... Rob. King Arthur is his Ye Olde Rennaisanceee Festivale namee) will be waiting at the round table, drinking a big mug of mead, and waiting for you to return. And if you don't -- hey, all the more saucy wenches for us. 'Til next time,
Alan Gallauresi is a well-known science fiction author who very much likes the laaaydies. His latest short-story, "Black Hole, My Ass!" can be found in the 1997 Pulp Crap Writers Almanac. |
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