A Moment of Silence

Image of the Day: Alvin Cicci Being Honored in Karachi For His Lifetime Achievements

I would like all my fans, disciples and fellow obesity sufferers to observe a moment of silence in memory of Alvin Cicci, my stunt double of the past five years, who passed away last night of heart complications at St. Giuseppe Moscati Hospital in Milan. Alvin was a loving husband, a doting father and a friend to the end. The extent of his many talents was equalled only by the quiet passion he took in portraying his Sensei before the camera. He was an able food critic, a fascinating mimic of country life in Italy, and despite his size, a lithe and stealthy combatant. Not once in the course of shooting our last picture, The Florist's Son, did he complain of chest pains or the extra poundage he was required by contract to put on for the role, though he was obviously suffering.

One episode I witnessed during shooting is particularly indicative of Alvin's character. The film is about a Neapolitan florist whose family is butchered before his eyes by a gang of Chinese florists moving in on his territory. My character, Vito Millefiori, is knocked over during the attack and observes the carnage from the floor, seething in quiet agony and plotting his revenge (single close-up of my eyes) while supine. As it turned out, once I hit the ground, I couldn't get back up. Alvin quickly came to my aid, and here is the beauty of the man. When he realized his predicament (i.e. that if he were to get back up, he would be one-upping me, not to mention hurting my feelings), he finished the scene by tripping one of the assailants and rolling over him, a move he knew I was perfectly capable of executing with maximum force. And that was pure genius, which is Alvin in a nutshell. Alvin, you will be missed.

I will sign off by sharing with you the ingredients of Alvin's favorite recipe, Farfalle with Arugula Pesto:

8 ounces yellow wax beans, rinsed, ends trimmed and cut into 1-inch lengths

12 ounces dried farfalle pasta

3/4 cup arugula pesto 

5 cups grated pecorino romano

1/2 cup cherry tomatoes, stemmed, rinsed and halved  

Serve with suckling pig and/or wild boar (depending on the season) and garnish of pea hens.

My Weight: 938 1/4 lbs.

An Italian Ambulance: 3,750 lbs.

  

I've Got Mail!

Image of the Day: Late for the Krispy Kreme Auditions in Poseidon, TX

Received this message yesterday morning from Buster2 in Melton, Delaware: "Dear Sensei, my toenail fell off last week. Could my diet have anything to do with it?" 

You bet your diet has something to do with it, Buster2. Oddly enough, six of my toenails fell off over the summer and they haven't grown back yet. My weight management therapist says it very probably had something to do with my diet, which was almost exclusively limited to Moldovan Celebrity Squares audition cold buffets. On the other hand, you should probably specify which toe you're talking about. As very few of you may know, I have 12 toes, which is good for picking up bamboo swords on the run but very painful when you're stricken by gout. I have been gouty for approximately three years.

Morgan Freeman of Pierpont, Maine writes: "Do you consider yourself more of a martial artist or a weight activist? And could you kick my ass, chair-bound?" 

My answer is obviously neither. I've always hated to be pegged as anything. I'm no more a martial artist than I am a Buddhist, no more a weight activist than a chronic overeater or a marksman. If I could say anything about myself, it would be that I love people. I am a people lover and a person of love. That said, I could still kick your ass, Morgan. Don't underestimate the vast amounts of psychic energy and sex appeal I still have at my disposal. 

And, to Craig Fisk from Team Obama in Richmond, Virginia, thanks so much for DHLing the updated requirements for 'double citizenship'. As it turns out, I didn't quite make the weight cut-off, and won't likely hit the half ton mark (we're talking long tons, right?) by election time, but maybe next year. In fact, very likely by Thanksgiving. So I'll just have to vote for Barack once. And I know this was a joke, but I don't think 'sitting on John McCain' is an option at this point. Do you really think that's funny? Besides, if I sat on John McCain, he would probably survive. He's an 8th Dan Aikido master, and a practicing Buddhist.

On a personal note, I'm feeling much better all around. Still packing away the chayotes (they never seem to end when you buy them by the crop) and I'm giving my next dieting move some serious attention. Though I suppose the best news of the week is that my anti-gravity suit will arrive (fingers crossed) next week, pending a credit check in Waipu. It's been particularly debilitating these past few months being forklifted from photo shoot to press conference, not to mention an expense. Forklifts consume an incredible amount of gas, which even as a single US citizen I'm doing my best to cut back on.

I guess that's all for now. Thanks again for the kind words. As always,

 

Your Sensei

My Weight: 937 lbs.

My Weight if I were allowed to vote twice: 1120 lbs.

 

The Shock of Two Lifetimes

Image of the Day: The Golden Corral– Pioneers in Buffet Policy

I have to say that never in my 30-plus years as a leading voice for political reform have I been more stymied and outraged with the US political system than I was yesterday, when I was informed (in a very rude way) by the California Board of Elections that my petition to vote twice had been denied. 

When I am asked to pay for two seats, as I am regularly, on empty commuter flights, I have never contested this. I am a big man, and naturally require more leg room. And has TWA ever offered me two meals? Just twice. When I have been denied extra passes at buffets throughout the Greater Los Angeles Area (if a limit is not explicitly stated in writing on the buffet or the menu, it is unconstitutional to enforce such a law), I have taken it in stride. But now that the tables are turned and I demand my right to vote as two citizens, they treat me as one. Not to mention the fact that, in doing so, they have completely ignored my status as a Buddhist reincarnation. Or the fact that cranes and forklifts aren't typically provided at voting facilities. 

I was particularly wounded by an article in the Guardian titled "Over-the-Hill Yankee Porker Asks For Second Pass At Voting Booth", and by a companion piece in the LA Times, "Martial Arts Has-Been Demands Suffrage by the Pound". I have taken the matter up with my lawyer, Myron Beas (who does not charge by the pound, as the Harrison Centennial in Cleveland misstated, but by the legal hour), and have decided to call a special meeting of my political action group, Lamas for Obama. And just for the record, Alec Baldwin (and the rest of the Baldwins) are officially 'outraged' too. Thank you, Baldwins, as always, for your support.

To make matters worse, many of my chayotes have spoiled and I am preposterously gassy (and down to about a pint of chi). For this reason I have decided to spend the rest of the day in the Chatto Godevi Memorial Pond, passing wind. 

My weight: 937 lbs.

TWA collapsible deplaning steps: 1350 lbs.

Fruit of the Week: The Chayote

Image of the Day: Alec Baldwin Auditioning for Guest Appearance on The Love Boat

Was woken up from a midday snooze in the Pebble Garden yesterday by the unusual sound of a long-toothed pest nibbling at my toes. Imagine my surprise (and delight) when I rose to a quarter sitting position to discover it was only my new four-legged Laotian friend, Tivid, a kha-nyou salvaged from the Seagal-Uribe Petting Zoo. This tough customer had been surviving for the past few months on the remains of stockmol industrial pig feed (those were the days!) left in the Tito Jackson Lifetime Achievements Tent. Tonight, since my schedule seems free, I've decided to sew him a little hempen Team Seagal uniform. Which encapsulates in its odd way my life philosophy at the moment: New Friends, New Directions.

Lacking the former, I'll speak about the latter: New Directions. I'm on a chayote diet! Everything about this wonderful Costa Rican cucurbitacea is 100% edible. You can boil it, stuff it, mash it, fry or pickle it, and it's chock full of Vitamin C and amino acids. And, good news for water retention and hemorrhoid sufferers (I'm not going to name names . . . Chuck Norris), its leaves are a natural diuretic with soothing anti-inflammatory properties. And chayotes are perfect with sashimi, salads, tidbits, stuffed pizzas, buffets, Big Macs (which I'm no longer eating) and whatever else you might fancy for a snack or major meal or anything in between. I owe this discovery to Captain Lou Albano, who visited the other day with his houseboy, Vargus, another tough customer. He beat me in a round of seated Indian wrestling.

Otherwise, keeping busy with a project I'd been meaning to get to for quite a while. Don't want to blow the whistle just yet (rumors beget rumors) but let's just say it's Vintage Early Seagal, and Vintage Early Seagal you've never seen. I'm talking home videos, bar mitzvah footage, and plenty of high-impact tough guy stuff from my slenderer days. As for my weight . . . weight shmeight! I'm enjoying life to the fullest in whatever new ways offer themselves to a man of severely restricted body movements. That's it for now. Great to be back. My chayotes are waiting, time to fire up the crane.

My Weight: 935 lbs

Alec Baldwin on his speed boat with a pregnant manatee: 1645 lbs  

Trouble in Hollywood

Image of the Day: Fire Down Below (Original Cover with Me)

Was a little disheartened to hear from Warner Brothers yesterday that I won't be appearing in the Anniversary Golden Edition "Fire Down Below" DVD. Sadly, I've been erased. They seemed to suggest that it would be better for sales that way. I don't know, Jack Taggart has always been a role close to my heart. I was svelte, sexy without being vulgar about my sex charms, witty . . . There was a brilliant outtake where a fireman says, "Everybody out! Fire!" and I say "Down below! Down Below!"Anyway, that's a little bit of film lore for you. The working title had been, "On Fiery Ground". The positive side to yesterday's events is that I received a gorgeous pesto log from Wesley Snipes' ex-mother-in-law in Tampa, Elva Snipes. Elva realized that yesterday was my Buddhist reincarnation's name day, as very few did. In return, I sent a bucket of chi to Elva and a six-pack of chi to Wesley, even though he didn't remember my name day.

Fitness-wise, not much to report. I blew a few notes out on my C harp for some mild cardio, and re-sorted my sea glass collection. Ate leftovers from the R.V. Buffet, with the pesto log. I miss my houseboy. 

My Weight: 934 1/4 lbs

3 Me's:  2802 3/4 lbs 

Humvee M998: 5200 lbs

Zen Recovery™

Image of the Day: The Chatto Godevi Memorial Pond

Dear Fans, Supporters and Fellow Sporadic Obesity Sufferers,

As many of you know, I have been confined to a hydropedic pond for the past several months. It has been a trying time. After the passing of Gary Busey, my best friend, and Wesley Snipe's incarceration, I nearly renounced my Buddhist vows. Then I lost Chatto, my houseboy of over 15 years, to a typhoon in Darwanbaba. But after the storm is the flight of the flamingos, as the Buddhists say, and I can now say that I am on the road to a full recovery.

Over the months my chi has stabilized to the point that I am dieting heartily again (good news) and am back in the studio belting out the oldies but goodies. I am no longer dubbing my lines and I have taken up origami and the study of sea glass, a wonderful hobby my friend and disciple Gary Snyder suggested as a soothing, calorie-burning activity. Chi to you, Gary, thanks. And, best of all, I am no longer confined to a pond (please see image of the day).

Hand-in-hand with my recovery, I have taken up the pen again. And my Zen. Let me leave you with this pleasing image, a poem I composed while being forklifted to the studio yesterday afternoon—

Today I ate a pheasant roasted on white pine logs

without giblets

or

gravy — perfection.

Rolling nude in the pebble garden reciting mantras, 

       I was complete;

Sweatpants and fiery wind.

If I weigh in at 933, I feel as light as a feather:

Litigation is superfluous.

My Weight: 933 lbs.

World's Largest Tonka Dump Truck: 733 lbs.