The rascally charm of a Mr. James Bond *sigh* and especially the suave brilliance that is Pierce     Brosnan. Beginning with B (both Bond and Brosnan), I’d like to launch off into what should end up as an alphabet of irony. I hope.

           Allow me to introduce to you (out of order, but very much the beginning) Q. The man who grew older and older and yet found himself demonstrating technologies that moved forward at the speed of, dare I say, neutrinos. He’s been unveiling all the exploding biros and magical cars but his stooped form suggests that he might serve as the most touching irony in an age that is looking bleaker and bleaker for the old. Their ageing is not only physical but they find themselves being pushed into mammoth-hood by our hurtling into complete techno-dependence.

         S and T (conveniently) are for storytelling and no one tells stories more out of context than the Bond-maker; the blown-out-of-proportion-ness of all the global muck. The seriousness of every crime against the west is thumped up and tattooed like a tribal message around the world and with subtle subliminal messaging, we grow up believing that all besides Uncle Sam and Queenji are out to dominate the world with their conniving dictators and horrific Premiers.

         Fights, always on land, water and in the air, bring us to the ‘F’ of our list. Had I been more of a believer in the science of fight choreography, I would have been amazed every time I put the tele on. But that is not the case. Having spent the better part of my day watching movies, I had the misfortune of having Mr. and Mrs. Smith and James Bond all convince me, together (and together they are quite the convincing team) that the conventional rules of ‘fight’ don’t only ‘bend’ themselves for Keanu Reeves, Rajnikant, Sly Stallone and Shah Rukh Khan (and possibly all the biker boys on celluloid) but they also do for anyone else with a serious imagination overdose (i.e. everyone) who makes action movies.

         (I’ll leave out a lot many more gripes and come to the final one) A. For a**h***. There is a law that states that the all agents af (poetic license, if I may) aforesaid attribute are abundantly amusing (this sentence took too long to come up with). James Bond is one of those eternally intriguing a**h*** who will always remain both, the dream—and nightmare—of women around the world!