A sequel of scatological proportions

“Jackass: Number Two”

Paramount Pictures

Directed by Jeff Tremaine

Written by Sean Cliver and Preston Lacy

Starring: Johnny Knoxville, Bam Margera, Steve-O, Chris Pontius, Preston Lacy, Ryan Dunn, Ehren McGhehey, Wee Man and Dave England

Opens Sept. 22

Rated R/ 95 minutes

Four out of four shattered patellas

“Jackass: Number Two” doesn’t just nudge the boundaries of good taste-it rolls those frontiers into a well-lubricated bottle rocket, inserts them into Steve-O’s gangplank and launches them into our great American sky in a flurry of barf, penises, poop and vicarious pain.

It’s oddly cathartic.

But contrary to the puffed-up claims of puffed-up critics, “Jackass” isn’t symptomatic of what’s wrong with America; it doesn’t explain why our young boys can no longer focus in class or spell their own names. Blame that on technology and the abolition of corporal punishment. This is art. If you hate Jackass, then you’re anti-art.

Besides, who needs college or a future when you can have a snake bite your penis?

God, what the hell am I doing here?

Anyway, a warning: This movie-or hyper-explicit, elongated version of the MTV show-is gross and offensive. The Jackass guys poop, and we see it. They vomit constantly. They hurt themselves and one another. And there are scores of decidedly homoerotic undercurrents.

Look here: If you hate the show or the first movie, then a) you’re anti-art, and b) you’ll hate this one. You might, however, be interested in a little book called “Anne of Green Gables.”

No more. I won’t divulge any details. That would be a disservice to you, dear readers.

Just trust your instincts. Always. Especially in the presence of anal beer bongs.

Especially.