Plague Journal, Bond Is Dead
The words that I just typed into the header caused a chill as I read them trailing the cursor. I knew on Saturday morning that Sean Connery had passed by means of my cell news feed which is almost an instant conduit of information about events. The next day, scanning the New York Times Weekend Update, I noted that the Times featured an obituary of the life of the actor from Scotland. The obituary printed out is six and a half pages long.
Connery was of the generation just ahead of me, by definition those that one “looks up to.” I came of age in the South. In retrospect I can think of no male role-models, other than my half-brother, who I instinctively admired. Complicating matters for me, the world of my family was that of regular church attendance, immersion in the straight-laced moralism of fundamentalist Christianity. Human sexuality was a third rail. What I mean by that is touching upon one’s sexuality, having sexual feelings, particularly the erotic imagination was equivalent to a express ticket to hell. Just imagine living with those boundaries as a male teen, hormones raging…
My earliest memory of Sean Connery/James Bond rises from a manifestly illicit adventure. I was persuaded by several good friends to join them at the Rialto Theater to view the second of the Bond movies Goldfinger (1964). I would have been a freshman in high school. The Bond movies, beginning with Dr. No (1962) depicted the story lines from Ian Flemming’s books. The stories were action adventures structured around the cold-war contest between the “Free-World” and a powerful communist adversary, Russia. They sizzled with testosterone fueled action, and female sensuality. As well put by the language of the Times obituary, Agent 007 was suave, resourceful, “a more violent, moody and dangerous man than James Bond in Flemming’s books.”
I remember sitting in the dark theater, coming from a family tradition that frowned upon “movie-going” feeling simultaneous waves of guilt and excitement as I viewed Bond’s self-assured presence on the screen. He was the antithesis of what I was raised to be as a male, yet exactly what I needed to see. Male and female relationships were fraught with sensuality, impossible to deny, a mystery demanding to be understood. Also contrary to what I had been lead to believe, — the true hazard in life, lay in the abnegation of violence, when a swift, effective response was called for to terminate the metastasis of evil. (Prayer, more Bible study will make no difference) Connery as Bond carried himself with elegance, with cultured flair, a smart, effective agent for Her Majesties Secret Service.
Sean Connery/James Bond died in his sleep at 90 at his home in Nassau, The Bahamas.
I recommend reading the obituary in the New York Times written by Alex Marshall, Christina Morales, and Peter Keepnews. CLICK HERE
This day is the eve of election day. Many votes have already been cast nationwide. Violence and conflict have been the hallmarks of the Trump administration. Trump has repeatedly said that he expects to win, and his opponent, a Democrat will attempt to “steal” the election. I anticipate the process of choosing who is to represent the people, from the White House, to members of congress, and down the ticket — to be rife with conflict. Can any election make a real difference, if a sizable portion of the populace is convinced they were cheated, rightfully or wrongfully? Little to no difference it seems to me. The losers will constitute a “Fifth Column” bent on subversion, sabotaging policy initiatives, and the rule of law.
And so it goes…..
