Mysterious and other happenings

Hey all, for starters, I’m back. In many ways, I’m back home, back to blogging, sport and fitness, all that venom (which I never stopped spewing in the first place). In short I’m as much myself as I’ve ever been.

The last few days have been all about holidaying, getting back to the job scene, training and all that. Am allocated a proj and have got a PC today and am for now being bombarded by Gag’s mails.

Oh yeah, before things look perfectly normal, the holiday wasn’t exactly relaxing. If a guy is forced into driving his car (with family in it) through a communal riot and then on another day, while returning home (from the holiday destination), meets with this crazy accident where he does a 180 and falls into a ditch and then has the cab (which was taken because of the accident) breaking down in the middle of nowhere and then goes about telling people that he had a nice relaxed holiday, trust me he’s not being honest.

Oh the breakdown forced us into jogging about 5 kms on the highway in rainy weather. The rains were the primary cause for the accident in the first place.

Anyways, the period post the holiday began to look a tad boring (anything would be after such an eventful fortnight, you get used to pacing your life you know). To combat the boredom, I got into a slew of ridiculous addictions and all that.
One of them was James Bond movies.

I saw the first one and was overwhelmed by the absolute genius that’s Ian Fleming (or is it Stephen, nah, that’s the New Zealand captain). I was like big time addicted all the way till about mid way through the second movie where I got bored and gave it up in search of something equally morbid.

There were 2 reasons for me going all gaga over that stuff.
1) It’s incredibly remarkably funny (copied from the movie ‘My cousin Vinnie’. Vinnie goes… actually watch the movie, it’s hilarious). It’s a riot. And the best part about all this is, the less intelligent inhabitants of the planet are lead to believe that it’s an action flick and all that. Brilliant.
2) We’ll get to that after getting done with point 1.

1 Contd.
For people who don’t know and still care, James Bond is that horrendously stupid moron who’s also real desperate. He goes about creating a lot of noise, drawing a lot of attentions towards himself, sleeping with any chick he finds anywhere and relies on dumb luck and real funny gadgets that gets him out of any trap that’s set for him.
Oh and he falls into every trap that’s set for him btw. It’s just the incompetence of the executors of the hit that keeps him alive.

The only catch being, why are all the hot chicks into espionage. I mean anybody with that kind of looks would settle for modeling or something like that right?
And if you need to net 007, you don’t need to be smart or anything, all you need to do is, be a lady and give him the idea that you crave for sex with him. He’ll come following you like a pup.

Now, it crossed my mind that if Ian Fleming was this brilliant comic writer and had realized that more than half the population of the planet confused his stories for detective action adventures, he’d be dejected.

Check this out, if you crack a joke and nobody laughs, that’s one thing, but if you crack this brilliant joke and everybody gets all excited and thrilled and praise you for the suspense and what not, what would your reaction be? I’d probably turn suicidal.

Now if Ian Fleming had gone that way, people would have gotten to know about it and then laughed during the movies cause that’s the intelligent thing to do.

Since that didn’t happen, I guess it wasn’t meant to be a comedy in the first place (just turned out that way). But then if it’s a set of stories about espionage and agents and all that, it’s supposed to be intelligent, but then why is the lead character such a moron, and why are all the bad guys so incompetent?

That got me to this theory about the entire series. And that’s point 2.

Point 2:
Ian Fleming is extraordinary intelligent. He’s also damn good in his knowledge or spies and their ways of operation.

The story’s is something like this. There’s this super intelligent spy who’s going about his operations as any spy should, quietly and behind the scenes. James Bond is the nincompoop who goes about attracting all the attention towards himself and diverts any attention away from the original spy.
Now even the baddies aren’t exactly dumb and incompetent. They pretend they’ve fallen for the smoke screen (is that what you call it?) so the original man comes out in the open. They pretend to be trying to kill James Bond and failing.

Now you know where James Bond seems to be getting all his info from eh?

The smart spy is so bloody good that we the audience don’t have a clue about his existence even after the credits have rolled. Now isn’t that the hallmark of a truly brilliant spy?

Even the support staff (characters in the movie) is brilliant in that they give James Bond the idea that he’s the one who’s solving the mystery and not some other dude in the backdrop.

Now what’s real brilliant about the whole thing is, even as I’m coming out with this theory, I assume the spy is a he or a him, it might as well be a she or a her. Wow I just can’t seem to stop admiring the writer’s credentials. And all this so many decades ago… awesome.

And here I was watching Adrian Monk and all that until fairly recently. James Bond rules. Even Sherlock Holmes isn’t quite as cool as this man is.

Here’s to the genius.

Anyways, like I said, the addiction was short-lived, it was followed by much worse, I’d gotten into this habit of making faces at cops and racing away. Deal being I don’t have any (ANY) of the documents required to be riding my bike in town.

That apart, work’s been fine, in that it hasn’t started as yet, will let you’ll know about it when it does start.

-Komodo Dragon