TNT Jackson, for which you see the U.S. promo poster painted by John Solie above, is a mid-budget blaxploitation flick shot in the Philippines and Hong Kong, built around clumsy martial arts, a flimsy plot, and shoddy acting. But it has Jeanne Bell. Playboy magazine had made Bell a centerfold in 1969. From there she launched a movie career, with TNT Jackson coming ninth in her filmography.

She plays Diana “TNT” Jackson, who learns that her brother was killed by Hong Kong drug dealers and seeks payback. While the plot is nothing special, Bell certainly is. She was twenty-five and wore a bouffant hair-do when she first appeared in Playboy; in TNT she was thirty and had blossomed into an unforgettable beauty with a frosted afro, kicking and chopping her way across the movie screen.

All the fight scenes are hilarious, with their cut-rate choreography and claw-handed posing, but they're fun to watch, especially the one in which she kicks the shit out of a bunch of guys while wearing only panties. That bit seems to us a clear homage to Reiko Ike's totally nude fight in 1973's Sex & Fury, another movie that surpasses its limitations by piling on style and attitude. Is TNT Jackson actually good? No—but we bet it'll make you smile. It premiered in the U.S. today in 1974.

We would love to have been part of this. Yesterday Mexico City had their annual La Marcha Zombie, or Zombie Walk, with the goal of setting a new record for the number of zombies (held by Buenos Aires, which had assembled 25,000 shambling undead just a few days earlier). As you might deduce, zombie walks are growing more popular globally, and have been staged in places as far flung as Vancouver, Pittsburgh, Mar de Plata, Exeter, Santiago, and Singapore. According to Wikipedia, the first walk was held in Sacramento, California in 2001, and now hundreds of cities have them. Perhaps in a decade or two, social scientists will tell us the complex reasons behind the rise of zombie walks, i.e., the trampling of individuality in the modern world, the rise of ravenous greed and the death of caring, etc., and that, ironically, one day sooner than most people think, the masses will rise up and destroy the elite few that have enslaved them. Okay, maybe that last part is just what we think. But complex reasons aside, from our non-scientific perspective, we’d do a zombie walk just because it looks fun. And do you think there’s any zombie sex going on afterward? Why of corpse there is.

Above, two great, provocative covers by Jean David for Pedro Alvarez’s Bonjour, Princesse... and Dora Christobal’s La maîtresse de Santiago, published by Seine Editions for their collection Plume au vent, 1956/1957. 

We thought this guy was hardcore for dissolving one corpse in acid. We stand humbly corrected. The ever-shifting hardcore bar has been reset at a new, quite possibly unsurpassable height by the gentleman you see at left. His name is Santiago Meza Lopez, but he’s known as el pozolero—the pozole maker. Pozole is a Mexican stew made from corn, except Meza made his stews from people, as many as 300 of them, who he dissolved in acid for his employer, Tijuana drug trafficker Teodoro Garcia Simental. Meza claims to have concocted his brews over a period of years, though he remembers December 2007 as a busy month during which he melted and dumped 32 bodies. Mexican police have begun the tedious process of digging in various locations around Tijuana for human remains, and about 100 families have come forward with photos of missing relatives, hoping—and certainly fearing as well—that Meza can identify them. Meza has asked for forgiveness from the families, and stressed to authorities that he is no woman killer—he only dissolved men.