Steven Segal, the Mojo Priest

"Well she looked at me kinda surprised
Suddenly she not so cold
I told her I cant have no more sass
and from now on she can talk to my ass" (Steven Segal, "Talk to My Ass")

Steven Segal, the actor whose chameleon-like ability to give so many talented and nuanced performances in such contemporary film classics as Under Seige, Under Seige 2: Dark Territory, and the soon-to-be-released and sure to be a gem Under Seige 3: Plane Danger has also been flexing his musical muscle touring with Thunderbox and promoting their new album, Mojo Priest. I have not actually purchased the album (I fear my whole body might explode in rapture), nor am I likely to see him moodily rock out at the El Rey Theatre tonight. Instead I must remain sated with the thought that the same dull glow of lights and warm night air are wrapped around the both of us tonight in this fair city that darest to contain the luminary that is Steven Segal.

Though I can hardly build the courage up to order the album (you know, for the safety of my internal organs), the range of songs and lyrics from Mojo Priest truly show that Segal is a double threat: badass of both screen and song. Some of my favorite songs include, "Gunfire in the Juke Joint" (a touching ditty that communicates the eternal Segal conflict of being both a badass fighter and supreme lover), "Alligator Ass" (a rousing ballad that examines issues of trust, including during ordering food at a restaurant), and of course "Hoochie Coochie Man," whose lyrics, " I got a black cat bone /I got a mojo too /I got the johnny cockaroo I’m gonnna mess with you," continue to elude comprehension to me and certainly demand the same level of explication and annotation that fellow badass poet, T.S. Eliot's little ditty, "The Wasteland" deserved nearly a hundred years ago.

While many of the songs address the conflict between being a badass and a lover that the Mojo Priest, Steven Segal, has surely had to struggle with since his first dashing days in the crib (does anyone else picture his crib replete with rocket launchers and ninja stars?), ultimately the message on Mojo Priest is that love with a hot woman who puts out - provided you're not a weak pussy excuse for a man - is what all of us needs most:

"She got nice skin
And she got nice hair
She look so good she lovely everywhere
Aint she pretty
She’ll make a clock stop on the wall
She’ll make a strong man jump and shout
Make a weak man trip and fall"
(Steven Segal, "She Dat Pretty")

Friday night gone crazy

There was quite the ruckus this past Friday night at the Sherman Oaks home of Mary Webber. Lorna and Andrew brought the bouquet pictured (picked fresh from their garden) and Gloria, Lorna's mom, brought a box of See's chocolates that mysteriously disappared in less than a day - scandal! Hilarious hijinx ensued as the diet Sprite and gourmet chocolate sluiced from guests' chins as though ambrosia from Demeter's own fecund breast. Andrew even demonstrated his new sport: timed-release photography of moving, unsuspecting humans. Oh, the frivolity. While the Gravitron and Ferris Wheel were not part of Friday's festivities, some might argue they metaphorically represent the careening highs and thrilling spins of a Friday night not soon to be forgotten.

don't worry son, it's time to feed

After a six hour struggle in the Gulf of Mexico on Tuesday, Captain Bucky Dennis caught a 1280 pound, 14.5 foot hammerhead shark. It is reported that it may be the largest hammerhead shark captured. When questioned as to why he had targeted the hammerhead, Bucky responded "I was just trying to find a record that was feasible to break." Bucky's friend, fellow captain described Bucky as "ate up with" an obsession to set a fishing record.

Captain Bucky's reasons for selecting the Hammerhead shark differ greatly from Dr. Preston King's reasons for attempting to fuse hammerhead DNA with the DNA of his dead, canceratic son. King truly apreciates the subtleties of strength possessed by the hammerhead as a species, as is observable in the photograph to the left. According to King, hammerheads never succumb to disease and there have never been any instances of sharks getting cancer so he transforms his son into a giant, rubberized mute killer - a Jason Voorhies of the ocean rather than lake- surely functioning for Dr. Preston King more phallically than filially. Hammerhead may never be understood until there are least two more sequels released in the series in which the dialogue and female characters glisten with the truth of his character, or at least some strategically placed lubricating jelly.

semi-living garments

The Tissue Culture & Art (TC&A) Project is growing a tiny "victimless leather" jacket in the glass enclosure. They grow the leather out of immortalised cell lines with a polymer matrix underneath it shaped like a jacket. I thought it was a piece of fried chicken at first - some sort of bionic, super fried chicken made from the genetically superior portions of lesser pieces of fried chicken.
Now that I know it's not chicken, however, I really feel like TC&A are "artistically exploring and provoking notions relating to human conduct with other living systems, or to the Other. [...] This piece also presents an ambiguous and somewhat ironic take into the technological price our society will need to pay for achieving 'a victimless utopia'." Riiigggghhhht.

TC&A has a video at their site that shows the little chickenlet, err I mean victimless leather jacket, sweating in its glass enclosure. If you listen very carefully you can hear it whispering something... no, it isn't saying "wear me," it's saying... "kill me."

late spring garden

These are photographs of my grandmother's garden in Sherman Oaks - I took them in the late afternoon. The final calla lillies and orchids have bloomed for the year.