"I was thinking of different forms of inspiration and years ago, when I used to box, I had a heavy bag hanging in the garage of my house that I bought after I was inspired by "Peace of Mind." I would go out, and work, and do my TV shows, and do my radio shows, and do all that kind of stuff, where you’re sitting there with makeup on, and trying to hit your marks, and all that business. And then I would go home and I would crank in my mix cd and one of the songs was Midnight Oil’s “Blue Sky Mine”. And it just had such a strong drum beat that I would just go into this zone and just start pounding the body of that heavy bag to the beat of the drum. And it really just got me inspired. So, like I said, Boston was inspiring to get me into a career, and Midnight Oil was inspired for me to break someone’s ribs."

"Another imperfect perfect film that came slithering into my late-adolescent consciousness at just the right time. I was a disciple by the end of the opening titles (alone worth the price of admission). This thing is a bath of Cronenberg’s cold, polite, Torontonian style, and thus makes the story’s insanity that much more insane—the form of the movie pressure-cooking the content. And what better way to dramatically illustrate this repression explosion than a scene wherein Dr. Icy Veins himself, Jeremy Irons, pounces across an operating table in a spasm of drug withdrawal, belly flopping onto his unconscious patient to rip off her mask and suck anesthetic gas. This is a film featuring twin prescription-drug-addicted gynecologists dressed like Star Wars Imperial Guards who use H. R. Giger–esque, Josef Mengele–level–scary surgical instruments to operate on the “abnormal genitalia” of women they mistake for mutants. Now, if that’s not one for the whole family, well, I don’t know what is! (See Peter Greenaway’s A Zed & Two Noughts for obvious inspiration.)"