In any case, it's not hard to defend Bumfights alongside Pink Flamingos and Faces of Death as "underground" or whatever (all due respect to John Waters). And I'm sure that's what the filmmakers and their attorneys want you to think. If you're looking for extreme violence, odds are you won't be disappointed. But I challenge you to remember the last time you viewed something that was morally wrong. Sure, one could bring up the chicken-fuck scene from Pink Flamingos (although you should know they cooked and ate the chicken after they killed it), but really, even PETA's let that one go. So imagine a guy dressed up like the "Crocodile Hunter", sneaking up on sleeping homeless people, lashing their wrists and ankles with plastic handcuffs, and writing a number in Sharpie on their forehead to "track them", like an animal. Yeah. Holy shit. Suddenly you're confronted with an honest-to-god moral dilemma: Is this funny, or a horrible exploitation of a human being? What do you think? Did you laugh when I told you about it?

I didn't laugh, but there were times when I did. The "Bumfights Krew", through offers of booze and chump change, recruited a handful of bums who are willing to do things that even the Jackass guys would give the thumbs-down. And sometimes it feels like they're in on the joke. Roofus (aka "Rufus") seems to be Guinea Pig Numero Uno, hurling his body and fists into crates, windows, dumpsters, and brick walls. His friend Donnie (The Vet) gets "BUMFIGHTS" tattooed across his forehead, before receiving a quick B.J. from the local crack whore. A lot of the video, if it had the network's stamp, could pass as one of those sleazy gutter documentaries HBO puts on at 1:30 am. And just when things slow down, speed-thrash or techno music starts up, and we cut to footage of two mallrats pounding the living snot out of each other. The fights go on and on, and because the music is rather monotonous, there's no way to tell when the end is coming. Another sudden cut, and we're treated to footage of some chick in her underwear rolling around on a bed looking bored. Hitting, humiliation, boobies. It's American culture boiled down to its basest components.

Then there's T-Bone and Bling Bling, who revel in their roles as crack dealer and crackhead, respectively. It's almost impossible not to laugh at their antics, even when Bling Bling lights his hair on fire. These sections feel a bit more like people being themselves, instead of being forced to do things out of desperation. Plus Bling Bling sounds like Soundwave from Transformers, if he were a crackhead ranting about being abducted by aliens.

I don't know where to land on this one. It's probably not good for anybody. Sure, I watched it, but I watch all kinds of stupid shit. I've been trying to get my friends to watch Rainbow Brite's San Diego Zoo Adventure with me, and so far I've almost been stabbed twice. So if the thought of Rainbow Brite lolling around a zoo like a drunken parade float terrifies you, maybe you should give Bumfights a pass. I don't know. I need to go to bed now.