Steven Seagal is the oily discharge of humanity, the vomitous belch of a bloated West, the wretched excess of two decades worth of imperial burlesque. If he were a wine, he would be a bad brandy. Seagal's existential filthiness cloys the living conscience of anyone who actually paid monies and thus encouraged his repeated acts of cinematic vandalism. Alan Carr, co-host of Britain's popular Friday Night Show gives us some punky wood to add as kindling to the bonfire that is Steven Seagal. The man's leathery sleaziness is as legendary as the number of women that this musky motherfucker has harassed. Steven Seagal could actually transmit swine flu to a bunch of dirty pigs. Jenny McCarthy, up-and-coming, tells the tale of how he tried to get her to disrobe to get a role in his film. "rent my [Playboy] video, you asshole!" she said, and stormed off the set.
There are his mob connections. The general piggery. The lies about being a CIA agent (What kind of woman would fall for that?). The cartoonish masculinity comprised of the martial arts and monosyllabic grunts. The subliterate, Id-driven movies. It all adds up, ultimatley, to a big minus for Seagal. Writes Allan Carr in The Mirror:
"I've had some nightmare guests on the Friday Night Show, mainly Avril Lavigne and Steven Segal.
"I hope I don't get any more on my new show.
"We had to smash the door down to get Avril out of her dressing room.
"She was sat there with a scowl like Tracy Barlow because she didn't want to perform.
"Then there was Steven Segal - what a d***.
"He came on and said to me and JLC: 'Are you two f***ing?' Backstage he was lying there with teabags on his eyes and a Japanese woman sucking his fingers to put his rings back on."
Jesus, what an oily man-swine, he. Ironically, a man as profoundly and lop-sidedly materialistic psychology-wise has somehow managed to hoodwink -- or, more likely, bribe -- reputable Buddhist authorities into claiming that Seagal is the reincarnation of a Tibetan master.