How James Bond Truly Saved The World

Kitzbühel, Austria (AP) James Bond, the man who survived dozens of dangerous missions was killed today by gunshot while skiing in the Austrian Alps. In a statement issued by British intelligence agency MI6, foul play has "definitely not been ruled out" as any myriad of suspects or even countries could be responsible for what could quite possibly be a revenge killing. MI6 also iterated that the man known to the world as 007 was not on any sort of mission.

Since his wandering days as a youth before entering her majesty's secret service, Mr. Bond had been an avid skier in the Alps and was considered to have had world class talent had he chosen that for a career. The shot came from long range as Bond was slicing his way down the famous Kitzbühel downhill. MI6 officials confirm only an expert shot could have done this, most likely a professional. "We will be most vigorously investigating this outrage and those responsible will be brought to justice with extreme prejudice," according to C, head of MI6.

Current and former world leaders expressed outrage and dismay, often noting a feeling of helplessness and uneasiness for the future without Bond's skills to ensure security. "We're on our own now," lamented a former President who wished to remain anonymous. Conspiracy theories have been quick to rise up, ranging from a Russian revenge killing to an internal assassination by the British to even Bond still being alive. Whatever the truth, sorrow and pity pour forth from every quarter of the world.

The death of Bond was like adding a flame under a pot of water, the temperature gradually rising to a boil. As time passed, his death became more real to the general public who now felt vulnerable to the sick and twisted plans that constantly beset the world. It was like a free-for-all had been declared, even down to the common street mugger who felt suddenly emboldened by what seemed a collapse in the rule of law. Statistics in every category of crime saw a sharp spike with no end in sight. Calls for a "new James Bond" cried out but no one could answer the bell.

The anxiety of an increasingly concerned public finally boiled over as ad hoc community groups formed in order to stem the epidemic crime wave. From these grassroots organizations, national cooperations were formed across the globe by those who felt their government could no longer protect them. Those who'd never taken the effects of evildoers seriously while in the womb of 007's caretaking joined together with liberals to root out liars from positions of power. This was done with an urgency never seen before as the threat to a common freedom was fully realized amid a fear of "being thrown back to the stone age." In the end, it was realized secret agents - no matter how capable - were incapable of insuring the peace without the engagement of the larger populace.

CODA: It had been five years since Bond's "death" as the former 00 agent sipped his martini in quiet repose at his Goldeneye estate in Jamaica. Once he had seen the world secure itself - and from that there's no turning back - he exposed the truth of his continuing existence. During those years he'd been able to mend his failing marriage that had been weighing heavily on his heart for years on end, bordering on drowning. A long suppressed yearning for haiku poetry had been unleashed with small books published under a nom de plume receiving critical acclaim. The entire idea had been Bond's as he had simply stated to C: "If I can't save me, then how can I save the world - and why should I?"

Concrete Cover Up

"What you did is an act of sheer madness. There's no reversing the consequences. Frankly, I don't see how a garden can survive that."

My therapist is supposed to be the best. At least he charges like he is anyway.

"I have a new argument. See, I was wrong in my thinking when I paved over my garden. I thought I had to, no choice. But now I see I could have let the flowers grow, only I couldn't see that then. So, even though I'm thinking now that nothing can grow in concrete, maybe that's just me having a bad attitude again!"

"Doesn't get more specious than that. And even if you were able to persuade someone of that nonsense, would that put any actual flowers in your home?"

"No, but..."

My backyard is private. No one knows what shame I've done. It's too incredibly stupid to be believed. I need to be able to sell myself on the argument I can have flowers if I'm going to be able to sell that to everyone else. Lying is dying in the end, though.

"Just what was your rationale for that sick and perverted act of pouring concrete?"

"I couldn't trust me."

"You mean you passed judgment on yourself?"

"Yes. Now I can't stop passing judgment of everybody. I want them to be in the same hole I am. It's not even something I believe in."

"Have you at least tried to break up the concrete?"

"Yes, but I was so certain - so absolutely certain - I couldn't be trusted that I bought the unbreakable kind. No force on earth can break it. I prayed for God to break it but not even a crack yet."

"Life without flowers is an impossibility."

"Thank you! I know that! I buy seeds every year just like the normal people do. Down at the garden center I have these fake conversations about what kind of soil grows best just to put on a show. I tried putting the seeds on top but nothing grows, of course."

"You're hoping to defy the laws of Nature?"

"It's my only hope."

"Frankly, all the therapy in the world can't help. It's like getting therapy for starvation. Only food can resolve it. We can talk all you want - and I surely believe you are quite naturally miserable beyond belief - but what can I or anyone do?"

"I don't know...I was just hoping against hope. I'm beyond tired faking like I have a future. I can't make it through one single night without having nightmares. It's four AM and I'm driven out of bed screaming."

"Every deception has a price."

"I knew it was wrong when I did it. But I was so hardheaded - it seemed more real than the sun that I couldn't be trusted. I didn't want to be exposed. I declared myself a bad man who doesn't deserve a garden. That made it in my mind a moral act to put in the concrete."

"And what of your friend who planted the flowers you paved over? What does she say?"

"She won't talk to me under any circumstances. It's impossible to face her. I wanted to tell her when she planted them I wasn't someone to be trusted. I was so insanely happy those few months the flowers were there I was on top of the world. But the guilt was killing me, oppressing me day after day. How could I tell her I was not trustworthy? I was dying to come clean."

"And the concrete was your way of expressing that?"

"Yes. She'd know for sure I wasn't trustworthy then. But that wasn't really coming clean after all, was it? Just made things worse. Impossible really. I knew I'd die from it but her friendship is worth dying for."

"Did you get any indication of her reaction?"

"I'm sure I hurt her paving over the flowers and the whole garden. She thinks I rejected them when obviously (to me) I was rejecting myself. She has no idea I think of those flowers every day and how much I hate myself. I just can't approach her or face her in any way. I broke my own heart and that of person I most wanted to be best friends and family."

"Oftentimes people make hating themselves their new "morality". Has that wrongheadedness happened to you?"

"I know you're right but, man, is it hard to resist. I walk around the house yelling at myself, calling me a "moron" and "motherfucker" because I can't stop the rage building up. I call it the 'Crime of 09'. No way out. I even voted for evil in my drowning frustration."

"Yes, the President is in the same leaky boat as you. And you told me your sex fantasies include you being in a cage. Yet every spirit strives to be free regardless. Your false logic says that as a so-called "bad man" you don't deserve freedom, you point to the concrete garden as staged "proof", and therefore you're "doing the right thing" by caging yourself. But you're never going to not desire to be free no matter what kind of narrative you construct."

"That's just peachy," I replied in defeated sarcasm, falling into silence. I fixated on the Dali clock he had draped over the edge of his desk. The ticking sounds were somehow reassuring. I wondered if he did that by design or was it just in me head. "Don't you have anything for me?? Any advice at all? The whole situation seems completely impossible! I just want to die!"

"There's always the obvious, of course."

"What is that??"

"With love, anything is possible."

Debby saving me from the Factory Grind

The Man Who Whispered In My Ear

"I wish you could know what I have to know:" he whispered. "Only extremists make it to heaven."

In the world he'd been knighted an Important Man. How true that really is I guess would be up to your estimation of the judgment of the world (here's a clue: lying is never important).  But I'm in a slim minority in that regard. Pretty much everyone I come across has latched onto something to make them feel safe. And that's how they get ya. Because, brother, I'm here to tell you safe is nothing but an illusion. But there's plenty of folks ready to take what you got just so they can feel a little bit safer - especially if it's your soul.

Safe is for the dead.

So what's your poison? Preacher, politician, or another power junkie? Whomever or whatever it is, it's nothing more than a dog chasing his tail. The game is up, the party is over. What you think is the beginning of your free ride is the ending of your real one - and the real one is all you got in this life, sucka. But you gotta get there on your own on this. Lay down your money and make your bet on what will save you - and God help you if you think this is a game. It's the furthest fucking thing from it.

So this Important Man whispering in my ear knows I'm trapped, cut off every which way I turn. He's surely making his bet and the odds are on his side. This is my time to look into the abyss and see nothing looking back. The offer is implicit: Do what you're told and there'll be a reward. And if you don't...you're hung out to dry - or worse. But like I said, that doesn't make him any less full of shit.

Channeling his inner Patton

You know what a uniform is? A mirage of the mind. A man in a tutu is no different than a man in a general's clothes. Would you kill on orders from a man in a tutu? But you would from a man with a chest full of metals [sic]! If so, go fuck yourself, you simple-minded sot. I ain't you. And the Important Man just made a bad bet. He's been getting his own way for too long.

"Homo says what?"

"Don't be impertinent! I'm not pissing around and you're in no position to argue. Believe me when I tell you that. " I check my nails and see they need clipping again. Crap, seems like I just did that. "I'll make this easy for you. There's a bad guy who needs killing. You're going to kill him. Do this and you'll have our full support."

I turned to face him with a wry smile, reveling on what had to be the funniest words I'd heard in a long time. Igor here really thinks I'm going to fall for this. Now, I certainly won't deny my life is a living hell tearing me apart and that my options have run out. But like I heard one man I admire say: "I may have lost everything - but not my sense of humor." That guy really was important. But this fucker in my ear gets all his worth from outside.

"Do your worst, buckwheat. I got no time for an orange nigger like you."

"You fool! It's not me you're screwing, but yourself. Do what we say and you'll have praise, glory, and most of all, our love."

Republicans have sanctioned Russian killings of Americans

"Yeah, you perverts always get that backwards. Who's a fart-sniffer like you to sanction anything? You don't honestly think you're smart enough to tell me who to shoot, do you?" I snorted.

"It doesn't matter what you think. Only what we think. That's how you give your life meaning! You need to serve a higher purpose. You better get with the program, mister, and God help you if you think there's not deadly consequences in store."

"I have no intention of getting with the pogrom."

"Apparently you live in a fantasy world, boy, devoid of reality. There's dangerous terrorists who need to be killed before they kill us. Are you a coward and a traitor? Now I'm going to iterate for last time. It's kill or be killed. Do you understand what I'm saying? Think of you're own self-preservation. Do you understand that killing needs to be done??"

I nodded my head and slowly whispered in his ear: "Now you will know what I have to know." Then I shot him dead.

The Day The Plumber Came Over

Nobody's going to believe my story - everyone has gotten everything so twisted at this point there's no getting the truth out through all the confusion anyway, so I'll just plow right ahead regardless in as concise fashion as I can. I will admit, though, it's hard to believe the downfall of a nation started with a busted sink.

He was supposed to be good. He promised he was the greatest plumber ever. He lived in a big house with fancy cars so he must be doing something right I (wrongly) assumed. Little did I know then that his father had bailed him out of bankruptcy six times and none of his cash was his own. Still, why would someone be so absolutely hellbent on being proclaimed a great plumber without some sort of ability to be so? Again, I (wrongly) reasoned he couldn't be a total fraud making his many extreme boasts.

He shows up with three helpers just for my little sink which made me scratch my head but it wasn't until later I realized that was part of his "distract and confuse" campaign he conducts 24 hours a day, seven days a week. I mean, who thought anyone could be so absurdly pathetic? But the plumber was counting on that. It's not until the smoke clears the homeowner has any idea what's really going on. And in my fucking case, that's a literal fucking statement.

First I hear this bitter bickering between the plumber and his helpers who demand he should fix it one way while the plumber wants to do it another way (he knows only one way whether it works or not). Finally, the helpers storm off in disgust ("The bastard hasn't paid us anyway") but the plumber severely badmouths them as "incompetent morons". This was also part of my education process: that the plumber always accuses others of his own sins. I should have cut ties then and there but I still wanted to believe in him and I thought it curious his workers complained of not being paid when I'd seen with my own eyes the plumber's wealth. He has no reason not to pay!

I do remember thinking: "If he's so smart and his helpers so dumb, why did he hire them in the first place?" But the plumber had a way of constantly bombarding you with chaos that never allows logic to take hold. I knew something was wrong, I just couldn't place it. But the plumber knew. That rat bastard knew before he got there he was no good. At that time I couldn't comprehend the amount of evil within. This loser would go to any length to have the world think he's a great plumber. It was life and death for him!

He says for me to relax in the living room as I hear him clanking around in the kitchen taking what seemed to me an inordinate amount of time. He kept giving me updates on his "progress" and how the original plumbers were no good and now I was in good hands and my sink would be "best in the world" when he was done. In my naivete I chuckled at his ridiculous statements and promised myself never to hire him again once I got my simple issue resolved. But that chance never came as we now well know.

I jumped out of the chair at the first smell of smoke. As I made it to the now abandoned kitchen I heard the plumber's van screeching away as I actually felt the explosion beneath my sink as it blew up. By the time the fire department was done the majority of my house had burned down and I was dumbfounded in a state of shock as to what actually just happened. Surely I didn't run into the biggest monster in the world, did I?

In retrospect, why yes, I did!

"The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was getting elected."

It was like I had won the anti-lottery. Of all the people I could have called in the world to fix my sink, I not only get a retard but a psychopath to boot! The fire chief showed me the burned out shell of a gas can beneath my sink, asking me how it got there. I explained to him about the plumber working on it and he said that plumber belonged in jail for the rest of his life. I did not disagree. He was clearly trying to cover up his inabilities by destroying the scene of his crime. Never in my life had I wanted to kill someone as much as I did that arsonist maniac on the loose.

But I was always one step behind. The monster had already got a story out to the press that I had left a full gas can beneath my sink and when he, the alleged plumber, tries to tell me that was the cause of my problems and I should get rid of it and that when I refused he stormed off due to his not wanting to lower his "ethical standards". I was aghast when reporters asked me about this accusation, bewildered how this could even be happening. But in the following days, already 50% of the country believed the plumber's story over mine!

I got affidavits from the three helpers as to what really happened but the plumber called them "outright liars" in the strongest possible terms and "losers who will say anything to protect their reputation." But that's exactly what the monster was doing! How could anyone not see that?? Next I got a lawsuit for leaving a bad review online about the plumber so others would not fall into the same nightmare I had. And then I hear these "complaints" about my so-called "lack of civility" from these crazed hypocrites over my justified outrage at this motherfucker burning down my house to cover up his own inadequacies!

"That poor man. He's been so wronged. People need to wake up and not tolerate this sort of behavior. I know I for one will not!" You know who said that? Some wacko defending the plumber after I voiced my complaints on TV. This nutjob made me out to be perpetrator of burning down my own house and when asked why I would do such a thing he quotes his radical conspiracy theory I had murdered someone and buried a body I needed covering up. The unreality of the situation was mind-numbing.

All I can say is this is certainly a godless world we live in, where truth counts for very little or nothing. Eventually I figured out where the support for the plumber was coming from: they are vicious murderous creeps just like he is. They know perfectly well he does wrong and love more than anything seeing that creep get away with it. It's like there's this whole sea of failures walking around out there aiming to do nothing but blame their victims while these criminals cast themselves as victims. Madness!

So I've stated my story with God as my witness. The political types who call it "divisive" can go fuck themselves too. We need to see who stands with the truth and who does not - nothing overrides that in importance. Love is not the enemy. And our Maker knows we cannot ultimately survive with these destroyers among us. First they will identify themselves, then they will be forever wiped off the face of the planet. God's will be done!

EPILOGUE: It's been over two long insane years and there's nary a neighborhood without at least one burned out carcass of a home. The real nightmare, of course, is the message left to the homes still standing: Do as the arsonists say...or else. The plumber gave rise to a new, more daring wave of evil never seen before. The anarchists walked freely down the streets, mocking their victims, with shirts declaring "Fuck your feelings" and wrapping their arms with phony burn bandages. This will get worse before it gets better.

For Your Lies Only

"I Ain't Like You Fuckers"

So this Debby Downer comes along the other day saying that one day I'm going to die. Oh, really, honey pie? Let me ask you something, do I look dead to you? Not going to happen to me, sister, and don't you forget it! She goes on claim it happens to everyone, no exceptions. "Well, then, I'll be the first, little girl!"

I gotta say that really chapped her ass and I loved it! That face of hers got all red and swollen with rage like nobody's business. She said she had truth on her side. Well, good for you, Kellogg Corn Flake! That's really special! We'll have to give you a medal or something. What a moron. Truth is for losers. And that's exact reason why I think I'm going to live forever and she thinks she's dying every day. How do ya like them apples??

I know what it is. She got that envy thing going. Sorry. Can't help you. I ain't like you fuckers. You so damn fired up to believe I'm going to die, then prove it! She just starts mumbling how everybody just somehow magically knows this and all these other fairy tales. Hey, honey, you want proof from me I'm right? It's right here! Ain't no android standing here talking to you, just me in the good ol' living human flesh.

And she thinks I make up stuff. What about that Jesus dude she always talking about? Didn't he come back to life to never die again? So technically, that makes me the second. Me and Jesus will be hanging out at the bar watching all you nonbelievers drop off one by one as we shake our heads. Positivity is what we're about and the rest of you losers don't know what you're missing. You can lead an ass to water...

The Bankruptcy

Susan was livid with the news of her firing. "I told you over a year ago this would happen."

The CEO, sitting in benign contempt at his reserved table in the executive dining room, sliced off another piece of his steak.

"So you did." He took delicious delight in the morsel.

"So just why then are you letting me go and keeping Wilson who said nothing?"

"Wilson's one of us."

"You mean he's male like you?"

"Not in the least. But you have to be like us if you want to stick with us."

"I'm not getting what you're saying. You don't mean you're glad you didn't see this bankruptcy coming?"

"That's precisely what I mean."

"What!?? I would think the firm would want to do everything in its power to avoid that!" Susan crossed her arms across her heaving chest as the outrage within could barely be contained.

"You'll never get to the top in this world with that attitude. We're not running a home for wayward boys. We're a finance firm. We play with numbers and money magically appears and disappears with no real basis in fact. That's what we do - and that's what we're going to keep on doing come hell or high water."

"And just how do you plan to keep doing that while bankrupt??" inquired an aghast Susan.

"Bankruptcy is nothing. We'll scrub our debts clean and be back in business in no time. You still don't get it, do you?"

Susan snorted in disbelief. "I guess not," she replied with dripping sarcasm.

"The game is rigged. We - those who run this industry - fixed it in our favor. We've got everyone in our pocket down to the hard-working janitor who hopes to get ahead in our rigged system, thinking he's being "responsible" and "honest" to believe in it. Quite hilarious really. And here you come along lecturing us. You had your say. You were right. Take your victory lap! Then take your very generous severance package, tell all the world how rigged the game is - and see how nothing changes, ever."

The fruits of coddling evil

Fuck You Bill Maher, And The Nazi You Rode In On

So my man Bill has been lecturing lately on how we can gotta love supporters of President Judas. To which I can only say: Go fuck yourself, Bill! I can despise anyone and anything I want at any time. When your country is being run by Nazis, then united we fall! Fuck these motherfuckers who want to burn everything down. I say we should burn THEM down. And I'll tell you something else: That's what they think too!

They are begging for someone to tell them the truth. They WANT someone to unleash them from their lies. They know they're lying to us and to themselves. And what do you want to do? Spare poor baby's feelings? Coddle criminal behavior? Hell to the no on that! We need to slap these people upside the head, tell them to quit whining and moaning all the time on what victims they are. They're not victims, they're losers - just like their loser leader.

Love takes no prisoners. Fool yourself at your own peril. Those who claim hope for despair and despair in hope are doomed without recourse. The remedy they seek to apply to others is what needs to be applied to them. By their own words they choose this - and no is pointing a gun at their head to do so. Life is hard and no one gets a free ride. But telling people it's OK to drink poison because you don't want to "offend" is unforgivable. Contrary to popular belief, no one was ever put on this planet to be "elected", only to be free.

"Somebody's probably lost a dog." Classic Bond!