Action Heroes Speak Louder Than Words

By Steven Seagal

In the Buddhist faith, we often like to take a break from all of the daily chatter and just go on down to the riverbank, and rest amongst the dandelions, daffodils, lilacs, tulips and all other kinds of pretty flowers. We don't speak, we just sit and meditate, reflecting on our day. But occasionally someone will interrupt my peaceful thoughts and say something like "Whoa there Steven Seagal, don't achieve nirvana and find refuge in the Three Jewels without me" and I'll get a little perturbed. I'll wonder why someone would choose to disrupt me when I'm trying to achieve spiritual liberation through the teachings of Siddhartha Guatama. And, for just a fleeting little second, I'll think about maybe chastising them a little bit, or offering up some harsh, yet constructive criticism. But then I remember: I'm Steven Seagal. And action heroes speak louder than words.

It's like that time I broke Sean Connery's wrist back in 1983. That was right around the time "Never Say Never Again" came out. He wanted some martial arts advice from the martial arts master himself, Steven Seagal. Yeah, that's me. So we're in the dojo, I'm demonstrating the reverse scissor kick head grab, and he tries to stop my kick with his puny little Hollywood handsies. I snapped his wrist in half like a bamboo stick in the jungles of Taiwan. He starts complaining and threatening to sue me. For a second there I thought "Dang, I really need to explain that this was all an accident to protect myself legally and financially." But then I realized: I'm Steven Freaking Seagal. So I said "Alright, Connery, you washed up British bloodhound. I'll take you to the bank . . .the BLOOD BANK" and I beat his ass to a pulp . . .shaken, not stirred.

These days, I don't really feel the need to justify anything I do with words, because a flying roundhouse kick to the face pretty much says it all. It's like this one time, when I was walking through LA in the afternoon, looking for some cheap, greasy Indian food to stuff my face with. And then I see this hobo sitting in a pile of trash bags. He looks me, Steven Seagal, right in the eyes and says "Could you spare a quarter? Maybe a can of soup, sir?" I said "No, but I got giant can of whoopass right here." Pow! Steven Seagal headbutt! Bam! Karate chop to the neck! I looked him right in the eye and said "Veni vidi vici, big boy." That'll teach anyone to ask Steven Seagal for charity.

It really is a great luxury not having to speak at all. Let's face it, when you are an action hero like Steven Seagal, your broad shoulders, toned abs and chiseled thighs speak volumes. One time, at this restaurant that I find quite delightful, I order my usual, the vegetable soup with a side of fondu. The waiter goes "Oh yeah, Steven Seagal, I forgot you are a vegetarian." I stopped for a moment and considered explaining that I find the eating of animals to be a vile and contemptible practice. But I didn't feel like wasting my breath on this punk, so I pulled a carrot out of my back pocket and shoved it in his eyeball. He starts screaming and I said "Less crying, more dying, babycakes."

Sure, I've been accused of making rash decisions. And yeah, my manager says that my lack of communication skills will hinder my professional career. But there are only two people in this world that I need to communicate with: Mr. Right and Mr. Left. Anybody out there got A carefully worded, well thought out problem with that? I didn't think so.