Sometimes I pretend I’m Hans Solo. I climb into a brown vest, throw a fur coat over a hat stand and call it ‘Chewy’, and try to drive my loungeroom chair at whatever the current parsec speed limit of the galaxy is. Granted, it’s not the best way to meet chicks, but it’s probably no less successful than any other method I have to date employed.
But here’s the thing – I know that it’s all just make believe. Much like Luke Skywalker, I wanna be Hans, but it ain’t gunna happen. For one thing, the Alderon Flight College was destroyed by the Empire a long, long time ago. I mean, c’mon.
No such easy distinction for Steven Seagal. Tibetan lama, Mississippi Delta blues man, global energy drink mogul, American Indian; you name it, he’s laid claim to being it. But his latest incarnation beggers even the warped belief he has brought bear upon the latter half of his “career”.
Turns out that Stevie-boy is, in fact, a police officer working the dangerous night beat, and has been for many years. At least, that what the trailer to his new TV show asks us to swallow. Cue: Steven Seagal – Lawman. Is he serious? Try to imagine being your average, law abiding crack dealer, just minding your own business and shifting units on a corner of South Central, armed or unarmed, it’s not important, and suddenly Steven Seagal appears – not to discuss Tibetan Budddhism or Goji Berry juice, but to arrest your ass. Autograph? Or resist arrest? Not that easy a choice.
Anyway, no words can say what the unholy sight of the mightily overweight Seagal giving chase to a crim can. Behold the flabby arm of the law: