Ghost of a flea

Saturnalia

Remember: Saturn is the reason for the season!

Don't even ask what they do down the Temple of Mithras Update: It's a war on Christmas! That isn't the baby Jesus he is eating is it? Saturn: Why does he hate us?

Regina Spektor: Samson

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Ecobabes

You can't hold your children with nuclear arms. Or something like that. Whatever one makes of their politics it is difficult not to admire ecobabes for working quietly on what they care about. Especially in November.

And yet comment on the project has not been entirely favourable. Take Alisha Clompus, for example.

Gillian Anderson with Corset and Mirror

This self-explanatory post arrives via Magdalene Veen; recently shorn.

An excellent point; corsets for everyone!

Clock DVA: The Hacker

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Really? I was very briefly in a band called Clock DVA.

This gets a billion points for the Coil reference alone. "Munchausen" is the single of the year. And about time too; we only have a few weeks to go. Not safe for work, by the way (via Warren Ellis). There is a video at the No Bra website but it has somehow yet to migrate to YouTube.

Ahh, just watched the video. Ok, NOT safe for work. Not safe for YouTube. Pretty much not safe for anywhere. I'm pissing myself laughing though.

The rights of nations

Always a venue for diverting comment, a discussion of nations and states is underway at Gen X at 40. Blame Prime Minister Mulroney Harper. I reproduce some of my thoughts in response to a question about the supposed rights of nations:

Some historic examples of the "rights" of "nations":

The German nation has a right to adequate living space.

The Japanese nation has a right not to be polluted by race mixing.

The Serbian nation has a right to practice Orthodox Christianity to the exclusion of other non-Serbian creeds.

Etc.

Add Jews, Masons, gay people, etc. as sources of pollution as is historically convenient and watch the group-rights discourse reach its inevitable telos. As for the world being ready for non-national states I can point to, for example, the twenty or so "states" currently encompassing the Arab "nation". Hence the incessant drip-drip-drip of United "Nations" resolutions against Israel. Then there is the Vatican; made a state under Mussolini and yet with no nation attached.

Just to be clear: I am not advocating a bunnies and light Star Trek Federation alternative. I am firmly in favour of multi-national empires.* Of the above examples the Vatican comes closest to my ideal (my ideal being, of course, the Raj).

*For example, Canada.

Citius, altius, fortius Update: Cute, smart, athletic, charismatic female Flea-readers who are aged 19-35 might consider representing their country in the Pillow Fight League Open tryouts in Toronto.

Wolfsheim: Find You're Here

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

There and back again

My fears Peter Jackson may not direct the so-called prequel to The Lord of the Rings have been assuaged by two pieces of news. First, the film rights revert away from New Line Cinema in short order; Jackson may be back in the director's seat. Second, rumours of his only possible replacement: Sam Raimi (with a nod of the hat to Elvis).

Considering how differently The Hobbit reads from LOTR there is a certain sense to different feel to the film. Colour me cautiously optimistic.

Handicapable

The Flea's coverage of Trafalgar Square's empty plinth continues with reference to Mark Steyn who notes an important observation on the subject; this one deserves the widest possible audience. Scroll down to Monumental Significance.

Related: The Captain of HMS Victory comes face to face with Nelson. Tangentially related: The disturbing statuary of Oslo.

Rob Zombie: Living Dead Girl

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Obsessive-Compulsive Bookworm

This apparently accurate quiz arrives via Agent Bedhead. They got my accent right too.

Lyudi Invalidy

Once again making a roaring success of manufactured controversy, t.A.T.u. are being threatened with legal action as a result of their latest single. Beware cheap sensationalism or forever shall it be your destiny: I am looking at you Yulia and Lena. No, seriously.

Mmm. Moral damages.

Takako Minekawa: Plash

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

The Company of Barber-Surgeons and Robotics notwithstanding

Goth or not goth: Montieth's mutton chops. A small hint: I am extremely jealous of Montieth's mutton chops.

If this one leaves you stumped you might considering helping your robot escape a maze. It becomes stress inducing as Friday becomes shorter and shorter.

Not By Strength, by Guile

Babbling Brooks reviews Casino Royale, pointing to the film's website and an MI6 dossier of the new double-O. Flea-readers who have yet to see the film should exercise caution as a harmless detail for some is a spoiler to others. One biographical fact deserving particular attention is Bond's record of service with the SBS; a nice compromise which accounts for his special forces training while keeping his Royal Navy pedigree intact.

The novel really is excellent too, btw. Virginia Postrel quotes from Simon Winder's The Man Who Saved Britain and a vignette I had forgotten. We latter-day Bond fans have developed palettes sufficiently jaded to forget the meaning of the word "exotic".

Small point of Flea biographical interest: I consulted for Vickers for two years. I was working submarines but I did know the head of Land & Armaments procurement. Good times. Good times.

Vanessa Paradis: Commando

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Bad news

New Line Cinema prepares to sacrifice the goose which laid the golden egg on an altar of stupid. First, unless they are planning to dramatize bits of the Silmarillion two prequels to The Lord of the Rings is a bad idea. Second, any film version of The Hobbit that does not feature Peter Jackson in the director's chair risks heresy. Tread carefully, New Line.

Jabberwocky Division

Is it just me or can you sing along to Joy Division's "Love Will Tear Us Apart" to the words of Lewis Carroll's "Jabberwocky"? "And the mome raths... outgrabe."

I must be in a mood or something. A space mirror would sort that out.

Diamanda Galas: Gloomy Sunday

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Coffee-punk

At last, the coffee maker of the Flea. A Cafetino is on my list of things to acquire once my schemes come to fruition: Just the thing for a morning brew on my crime-fighting zeppelin. I admit they could work on the name; "vac pot" is insufficiently steam-punk sounding (via Last of the Kuiper Bedouins).

In related news, this shopped image of Magdalene Veen. Wonderful.

Blasphemy is in the eye of the beholder

To a Western eye, the above may look more like a mildly clever editorial cartoon than a gallery piece. Then again we all know what mildly clever editorial cartoons can lead to in these post-Enlightenment days of pandering to the mob. I quite like the implied Indian coastline around Mumbai and think, if anything, this is a flattering rendition of the goddess Saraswati. To a more sensitive eye, however, Bharatmata - "Mother India" - is a provocation, even if it is not clear the artist titled the painting Mother India at all... Queue the gallery burnings, burning in effigy, trashing of houses, one thousand legal suits and, as ever, the death-threats. Flea-readers may be mildly surprised to learn that for once it was not the Amish with the torches and pitchforks but "right wing" Hindu zealots.

Sanatan Sanstha are among the more prominent would be art critics having a go at the work of M.F. Husain; Indian, Muslim and a man with an appreciation for curves. It is all about the denigration, you see. Take the spiritual impact, for starters.

"Lakshmi bombs" may sound promising to some Flea-readers but please think of the vibrations. As Principal Skinner once observed: The shapely female form has no place in the world of art. Those who disregard this handy maxim are liable to end up with an US$11.5m bounty on their head. Hence Husain's decision to take up residence in London his regrettable apology to the mob notwithstanding.

Elsewhere in the Dark Ages Update: Catholic marchers turn on Glastonbury. In this case the religious authorities sided against the mob.

White Town: Your Woman

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Suffering from LDDS?

Losticil may be right for you.

That's more like it

Jeff Simon writing for The Buffalo News calls the Bond reboot Bond Reborn. There are a couple quasi-spoilers at the linked article but no real surprises if you have read the novel; this is a remarkably faithful adaptation of Ian Fleming's work. Cautious types have this quote to be getting on with until they see the film.

Quite. For fear of aforementioned spoilage I shall say nothing except that this is the best Bond film ever made. Yes, I am including all the Sean Connery films. Yes, that means this a better Bond than From Russia With Love, a better Bond than Dr. No. Time to see the film if you have not already done so. Cubicle-bound Flea-readers wishing to adopt a more secret-agenty lifestyle might peruse cars, cocktails, watches and other assorted marketing. Not to forget a careful consideration of Eva Green and, of course, the Judi Dench lesbian scene that was not to be.

One last thing, I admit Ace is mostly right about Act Four. Mostly. Now going to watch Dr. No again to test my absurd claims of the above paragraph.

The Flying Lizards: TV

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

PS - Money don't get everything it's true.

Draconian regulation

Trading standards officers force a name-change on Welsh Dragon sausages as “(t)he product was not sufficiently precise to inform a purchaser of the true nature of the food.” It turns out the sausages are made from chili, leak and pork and not dragon as naive consumers might be lead to believe (via Rantburg).

Women

Will someone please explain women to me?
Thanks in advance.

- The Flea

A woman's guess Update: SondraK says tonight is not the night to ask.

Two solitudes Update: Agent Bedhead is also having a day.

Fashion claims another victim

Brazil mourns as another model is lost to anorexia and, supposedly, the remorseless exigencies of fashion. Sad, indeed. But does Brazil mourn for the loss of fat people to a bewildering variety of consequent health problems? It does not.

And I do not expect Brazil mourns for the Posh that was. Victoria Beckham is not so much transhuman as transcontrived. Spare a moment for Bryony Gordon in your prayers, an intrepid soul who followed Beckham's That Extra Half an Inch style prescriptions for a week such that the rest of a yearning humanity might be spared the task. Flea-readers considering the Beckham style-plunge might first consult Simon Mills' assessment. It isn't pretty.

Lady Sovereign: A Little bit of Shhh!

She's sick... No, she's ill! Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.*

* Love Me Or Hate Me has a more corporate look and a more corporate sound; somebody has decided Lady Sovereign is worth the investment and I expect they are right. She looks well fit. Still, there is a sad inevitability to an artist putting out a love me or hate me, I am not polished looking or sounding tune just after they have slimmed down, had their hair professionally styled and juiced up the production.

My love for you is like a truck

I looks as though Xbox 360 has made a massive on-line ad-buy to coincide with the release of the PS3. Always willing to do my bit, I have just watched the new trailer for the only first-person shooter I want to play this side of Halo 3, Gears of War. While the trailer has camera angles I would not expect to find in game-play the whole was rendered using the same Unreal Engine. Stunning. The story-line is also worth pondering; the Xbox 360 site summary does not do it justice.

Revolutionary

I should make it clear I have not ordered anything from G. Gedney Godwin but their stock looks extraordinary. 18th-century spectacles, bronze swivel guns... even period medical instruments. More Flea than Flea.

Also worth a look, or at least a listen, is this BBC World Service documentary on the archaeology of patriotism. I particularly enjoyed the interviews at Williamsburg in part two.

Front 242: Headhunter

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Perrier Jouet Belle Epoque

Sure it is expensive but if it is not a Taittinger or a Bollinger I am still not interested. I will leave this Perrier Jouet Belle Epoque business to the hoppers.*

* Unless Posh and Becks like it.

All compounded things are subject to decay

German researchers from the International Council on Monuments and Sites have found something beautiful in the wreckage of the Buddha of Bamiyan; a fragment of scripture (via SondraK).

Ani DiFranco: Untouchable Face

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance (nsfw due to F-bomb).

Roughing it through this book

Robert Spencer posts an address to the Young America's Foundation by Elizabeth Kantor, author of The Politically Incorrect Guide to English and American Literature. Kantor once again makes the case for a canon both as history and as heuristic.

Quite right. Without a shared system of metaphor we have precious little to talk about. There is the further risk of a bicultural society where, for example, red states and blue states end up reading past each other and meaning two very different things by the word "America". That said, long-time off-line friends of the Flea may observe it is with some temerity I would seek to endorse Kantor's prescription. After all, I "haven't read anything" as one former acquaintance put it succinctly. Yes, I have read a lot of philosophy and theology but, having skipped a raft of nineteenth- and twentieth-century novels, I might as well be illiterate. She has a point.

I believe I have read enough, however, to wonder what a politically incorrect guide to Canadian literature might look like. What with our few acres of snow and a fever grip on the colossus to the south, grievance and high-handed inaction is the canon. With Margaret Atwood at the apex of our accomplishment can there be any wonder Canadian civilization looks the way it does.

Warm mongering

I had already written several pieces about ecological matters, but my superhero concept filled me with a concern that ecology might be the next banner for demagogues and would-be-heroes, for the power seekers and others ready to find an adrenaline high in the launching of a new crusade. Our society, after all, operates on guilt, which often serves only to obscure its real workings and to prevent obvious solutions. An adrenaline high can be just as addictive as any other kind of high.
- Frank Herbert, Dune Genesis

During my years in England I worked as a research consultant to projects for a number of ministries including the Department of the Environment. Of all the cumbersome doings of government, I think there are few more important that the coordinating role this and equivalent ministries elsewhere can have for social, economic and technological policy and innovation. There has been a revolution in thinking not only about but in terms of the environment - that is to say not only about the environment as a static fact - but in terms of ecological systems. I believe it is difficult to over-estimate the importance of such systemic thinking; perhaps Frank Herbert schooled a generation or three in this stuff without us knowing he was doing it...

That said, it is difficult to over-estimate the importance of approaching ecological systems with what might be called a passionate disinterest. Complex systems are not beyond our capacity to engage with and influence but at this stage in our ability to model such systems we should do so with a studied humility. The hubris of the warm mongerers, and their apocalyptic disregard for the world's poor, let alone mere fact, substitutes science for sanctimony.

The last thing Planet needs is another lot of ascetic priests holding the whip hand. Writing for the Telegraph, Christopher Monckton considers the distortion of the truth about global climate change and, in a follow-up piece, takes on the dodgy economic assumptions of the Stern Review on the Economics of Climate Change.

The tag-line, and the most satisfying pun I have encountered since, like, the last ice age, is thanks to Tim Blair. In related the-end-is-nigh events is Our Lady of the Apocalypse, an icon by Fr. William McNichols. Sweet.

Chicken Little Update: The sky is falling! Not that I have anything against Sedna, the Mother of the Sea. Here's hoping the book's illustrators don't have their heads hacked off for idolatry. You know, by some activists somewhere.

Kirsten Flagstad: Brunhilde's Battle Cry

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance. And maybe team up with Bob Hope and go kick some ass.

Transylvania's finest

I sensed a disturbance in the Force and sure enough it was the Cheeky Girls auditioning for Geri Halliwell. For Flea-readers with short attention spans, here are the Cheeky Girls on Top of the Pops. If anyone has access to a high-res version please to let me know. Then there is this toothache of an interview; worth it for the accents of the twins, single and beautiful (possibly nsfw due to swearing Irish puppets).

Also, the Cheeky Girls at MySpace. OMFG there is a Right Said Fred cover... ok, give me a minute here. "Text Me I Love You" could be huge.

Enigma: Age of Loneliness (Carly's Song)

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

It is called a utility belt

Sgt Tony Smith and PC Mike Holman successfully apprehended a drugs suspect thanks in part to their ingenious Batman and Robin disguises. I note the senior officer got to be Batman.

Singing with Elvis

Ardolino thinks linking to a Life of Brian clip equals geek. Yet this is as nothing compared to Hawk the Slayer linkage. Strange how the primal D&D urge can overcome the simple biology of sexual reproduction; hence the decline of the West. Someone should get Mark Steyn on the problem. But I digress.

Hawk the Slayer was only one of countless immortal screen appearances by Jack Palance (though regrettably he appears in neither of the above clips... have a little Sudden Fear instead). The Flea worships at the altar of cheese but before Jack Palance I am as nothing. Truly, he stood alone.

Flea-dance tips

I am working on a little piece (more or less) about gesture in Roman public speaking but my brain juice is flagging on this, the last day of the working week. So I present instead Planearium's improved South Park character generator (with a tip of my coachman's hat to Agent Bedhead).

Which brings me to this contentious South Park clip: Goth or not goth?

Another Friday related Update: Starbucks Liqueurs may be goth when mixed with a sufficient quantity of Goldschläger.

For robots it is always Tuesday Update: Soylent Green is bacon! (via Tim Blair)

Yaki-Da: I Saw You Dancing

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Everything is better in India

Even if they are not quite clear on the Marvel vs DC thing.

A little bit showbiz

Flea-readers who have wondered what Kylie might be like were she within smelling distance need wonder no more: La Minogue has launched a signature fragrance. Shame it is by Coty as I have been underwhelmed by their previous celebrity tie-in products. I have no trouble imagining Kylie wears her LoveKylie line. I do have trouble believing a whiff of Darling equals of whiff of Kylie up close; possibly due to the missing suspension of disbelief factor. One can only hope the Thierry Wasser connection gets the balance right.

Dar' Update: More Kylie here.

Olivia Newton-John & John Travolta: You're The One That I Want

Before Kylie Minogue there was Olivia Newton-John. Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

The widening gyre

Harvard University's Countway Library of Medicine hosts a rare book collection including a number of "Fifteeners". This woodcut is from Pseudo-Methodius' De revelatione facta ab angelo Beato Methodio in carcere dete[n]to, published at Basel in 1498. The piece is notable as a medical artifact for this, the earliest printed representation of a Caesarian birth.

It is an almost charmingly simple depiction of the beginning of the end. Any fear for the Antichrist depends on a belief in his coming and necessarily in turn for the second coming of our Redeemer. I cannot speak to Aytinger's purported attempt to "arouse animosity" against Muslims. By the end of the fifteenth century, European weapons and naval technology had begun to decisively outpace its adversaries. The siege of Vienna was yet to come but for all that the writing was on the wall for the Ottoman empire as surely as it was for the Inca and the Aztec. The age of exploration dawned into a world this artist had no reason to fear.

It is five-hundred years down the road and still no sign of Antichrist. He is called to mind nonetheless as we discover the best lack all conviction while the worst are full of passionate intensity. Fight the future, people. It is five years since that day but this is the first morning I believe we have reason to be afraid. The hour may have come round at last.

Update: David Warren offers this bitter summary. It is as if the 1930s never happened. As if there were no boat people. And never a thought for the fate of countless millions who deserve better from those of us who are, for the moment, still free (via Andrew Coyne):

Dead Can Dance: The Host Of Seraphim

Baraka's an amazing film. And this song is great. I never thought poverty could have such a great soundtrack.

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Mere anarchy Update: Not ready to listen to the inevitable BBC Tourette's reading of today's new world quite yet. First, a White Stripes enabled Kate Moss pole dancing to Philip Glass's Violin Concerto No. II. Much better.

If not now, when?

Seeing the Unseen is the first installment of Bill Whittle's latest. I agree the importance of the following (as with much else).

Also worth a look: Flight Patterns. It might as well have been called Civilization; is the Enlightenment, animated.

Fashion is a vitamin for style

Pink Tentacle reports on the Hyper Space Couture Design Contest. These looks are so hot they are from the near future.

I am holding out for Wilma Deering. Ripped abs, don't fail me now!

I don't drink... wine Update: Ok, I am not saying I am a space vampire. I am only saying I can relate to space vampires.

Silver Jews: How Can I Love You (If You Won't Lie Down)

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Thames Town

The Scotsman reports Chinese pirates have made off with bits of Lyme Regis as an eerie simulated England has appeared an hour outside of Shanghai. Thames Town hosts a pub, a chippie and a bronze Winston Churchill against a backdrop of newlyweds looking for a picturesque location.

I will trade them for more Blade Runner at Dundas and Spadina.

South Korea moving to legalize miniskirts

The headline speaks for itself.

Thank heavens for that. Careful though: It could lead to dancing.

Related: This fantastic new Pocky ad.

Psychic TV: Message From The Temple

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Yet lust is numbered among the sins and stupidity omitted

When I heard yet another pious hypocrite had found his stumbling block in meth-fueled gay "massage" I did not give it much thought; one more Pharisee for the pile. Then I remembered where I had seen the man before.

Richard Dawkins can come across as an unsympathetic character, as arrogant and pious in his own convictions as those of the people he disputes. Watching him in debate I am often as struck by his complete failure to understand religious belief as I am by his opponents' inability to grasp basic biology. That said, I am four-square with Dawkins on the bit about bronze-age myths in this now classic encounter with Ted Haggard. And I am not surprised in the slightest by the strong-arm tactics at the end of the clip.

For anyone still having difficulty with the theory of evolution, Ms. Garrison explains the process in just over a minute (nsfw).

Jeremy Paxman is God Update: Still unsympathetic but earning points for a Flying Spaghetti Monster reference.

The Root of All Evil Update: I had forgotten this interview from the same documentary as the Haggard piece. "Fix your women"... horrifying.

She's lovely, really

Hard on the heels of a new fashion Bible book launch, Perez Hilton tracks down an appealing interview with Victoria Beckham, not as transhuman as her still photos often make her out to be.

Dwight Yoakam: Suspicious Minds

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

On while we are on the subject... "Honky Tonk Man": goth or not goth? Grades are assigned on the basis of how you reach your proof rather than the answer itself.

Strange new worlds

When I first heard Paramount was tinkering with original Trek with the aim to produce an "enhanced" version I can only describe my reaction as incredulous skepticism shading into trembling outrage. Visions of a Greedoesque farce with yet another George Lucas-style banalization of a cherished classic left me dreading the result. It was, therefore, with some trepidation that I started to watch the enhanced version of "Balance of Terror", my favourite ever Star Trek episode.

It is a tour de force. Paramount has left the original cheese-factor intact. If anything, these new versions max-out the cheese-factor rendering the enhanced Trek more original than the original. So what has been "enhanced", exactly? First, this post post-production punches up the blacks. Deep space now looks properly deep and every interior shot has the satisfying contrast of a multi-million dollar per episode contemporary effort such as the revamped Battlestar Galactica. Every time Uhura swivels on her communications station chair the rich luster of its pleatherette surface glints in the light of the bridge. The re-engineered sound of the enhanced Trek is also Immediately noticeable. Corridors and inter-ship announcements have been re-mastered with a subtle reverb, photon torpedoes detonate with a juicy thump and incidental music sounds richer; all of this without substituting new sound effects for old or replacing period music with some ludicrous contemporary version. Visual effects have been seriously juiced up. Planetscapes and exterior shots of various ships, most importantly Enterprise herself, are careful CGI reproductions of the original models. These new versions, however, are more detailed and have richer contrast. We can now see the turning of Enterprise' warp nacelles and phaser blasts light up the underside of her saucer section. The result is frankly wondrous. This is how the show was always supposed to look.

Where the enhanced version takes liberties with the original it does so in ways that are respectful and true to the aim of making the show more Trek than Trek. The original circular dots that stood in for passing stars in deep space are still circular dots passing for stars in deep space. But now each lovingly reproduced "star" produces depth of field with a subtle parallax motion in relation to its peers. My favourite addition so far is nictitating membrane action in "Arena"; Gorns can blink!

Flea-readers who have yet to see the enhanced Trek can check out side-by-side comparisons of original verses enhanced visual imagery at StarTrek.com. The enhanced title sequence demonstrates a number of the points I have outlined.

Humana humana Update: Just watched the enhanced "City On the Edge of Forever" featuring the enhanced Joan Collins, so hot she is from an alternate reality.

Jitterbug Party

Imagine it is a Harlem night at 142nd Street and Lenox Avenue; the year is 1935. Five years ago a new house band took over a venue that had hosted Duke Ellington and where audiences first heard a sixteen-year old Lena Horne. Tonight Paramount Pictures brings the stark light for the cameras is making the scene even hotter than usual. We are here for a return appearance of Cab Calloway’s Cotton Club Orchestra and, if we are lucky, an invite to a Jitterbug Party after hours. If we stay up late there may be time for some shim sham shimmy...

Lena Horne: Stormy Weather

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

Let him not breed in great numbers, for he will make a desert of his home and yours

"And Proteus brought the upright beast into the garden and chained him to a tree and the children did make sport of him."
-The Thirteenth Scroll

Tim Blair reports on the tragic projected disappearance of boats due to global warming in the Sydney region. I thought it only wise to offer a similar projection viz. the effects of rising sea levels on the port of Toronto (dust-enhanced image courtesy of Reuters). The pre-catastrophe Tower may be seen in some of its time-lapsed glory here.

Also an over-consumption problem: PK-based obesity.

Laurie Anderson: O Superman

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.

When love is gone, there's always justice.
And when justice is gone, there's always force.
And when force is gone, there's always Mom.
Hi Mom!

Choose your next witticism carefully

Former head of MI6, Sir Richard Dearlove (the spy formerly known as "C") says Canada needs its own foreign intelligence service. An excellent idea; if anyone in the know is recruiting down the line, do keep me in mind. I am available for training/consultancy in the finer points of baccarat and champagne-selection that are sure to come up.

On a related note: This hideously misconceived James Bond 007 TX Spy Gear Bundle from Sony. I see this one is missing its "needs to be glassed" sticker.