Roach. Cock Roach.

Cockroaches are cool.

I was thinking this to myself as I watched the cockroach on my bathroom floor get up yet again after I'd whacked it the 10th or 29th time with a flyswatter. Yeah, I know I'm supposed to be all nice and stuff to animals, but when it comes to mosquitos and cockroaches, they started it.

But while mosquitos are annoying and weak, cockroaches are cool. They're tough. I've stomped them, swatted them, smashed them, burned them, stabbed them, and used Raid on them, but a lot of the time, they just get back up. And then I step on them, hard(and twist), and then they die. But they're still cool.

This thought reverberated in my skullpan for a few minutes after I'd successfully transformed the cockroach into a steaming smear on my floor (they're enemy agents, I swear), and walked away with my trusty flyswatter holstered. The thought was promptly lost as I saw that I'd left a box of Oreos on my bed.

After making a nice and proper pig of myself (not a crumb dropped, I'll have you know), the thought came back. Why did I find cockroaches so goshdarned cool?

Maybe it was because of their armor/shape scheme; they look sorta like living brown Batmobiles. With all that shiny, sleek armor, and the way they just *poof* jet across the floor (don't believe me? try getting down there and pounding one with your fist. ain't as easy as it looks, is it?), and the fact that they've got those serrated little things on their arms like Batman does...heh. I've this idea that Bob Kane actually meant to make him Roachman, but the execs up at DC didn't like it. "Roachman, striking disgust, loathing, and a desire for a can of Raid into the hearts of housewives everywhere" would probably do wonders for Raid, but wouldn't help comic sales very much, methinks.

So I took the idea a little further, and it hit me - Holy Superspies, true believer, EVERY superhero is based (at least partly) on cockroaches! Think about it: super strength? Cockroaches are kinda strong for their size. Invulnerability? Cockroaches are pretty damn durable. The whole secret agent James-Bond-y schtick? You tell me, what do cockroaches do in your house, if not sneak around and cause trouble? Flying? Cockroaches can fly. You name the power, cockroaches probably have some variant of it. Ok, sure, other bugs were used as well, but I think the main inspiration came from cockroaches. I can imagine the brainstoming they would've done in the beginning -

Guy 1: "Hmm...how about 'The name's Roach. Cock Roach'?"
Ian Fleming:"Naw, we need something less misogynistic. Something the women will love. How's about a compulsive womanizer named..."
*Ian Fleming notices a small stack of "James' Finest Illegal Bond Paper! For the BEST forgeries around!", that appeared out of nowhere to serve as a plot device*
Ian Fleming:"That's it! We'll call him Illegal Forgeries!"
Guy 1:"Uhh...ok..."
Or something like that. Whatever.

As usual, I think this all leads up to a...(say it with me now, kids...) conspiracy! I think the cockroaches are out to get us with their massively superior prototype-superpowers. The only way to stop this is by destroying the Spice Girls once and for all. What's that, teeny-bopping(what's that mean, anyway?)-kid-who-had-to-have-this-read-to-him/her sitting over there? The Spice Girls are good, you say? "Zigazig Ha" actually means something, you say? Don't believe me, you say? Fine. You just wait. One day, when a nuclear missile is accidentally launched at China (or wherever), and a nuclear war starts, and cockroaches mutate into giant, 60-foot-tall Spice Girls, don't come crying to me. You go on listening to your stupid Britney Spears on your crappy pink iPod, you teeny-bopping(there's that phrase again...)...teeny-bopper! Yeah, that's right! Run home to mommy, you wuss! Damn straight, go whine to your huge(heh) daddy who's been in the army and served 2 tours in Vie-...oh fuck.

Shit. I gotta run. But please, heed my warning! Don't waste time! Kill the cockroaches! They walk among us! They must be eradicated before it's too late!

*Shiny Butter Knife runs off stage, away from a homicidal maniac firing a huge assault rifle.*


TV Voice: "That's all for today's rant, kids! Tune in next time for another exciting episode of 'Stupid Doom-Saying Rants That Make No Sense!', with your host, Overpaid TV Voice!
And now, a message from our sponsors!"

*Voice offstage says something unintelligible. Don't they always?*

TV Voice: "Whaddaya mean we got no sponsors?! Then who the hell is paying for me?! Say what?! Did you just say downsizing?! Why're you looking at me so funn...oh. Crap."

*A sigh is heard, followed the sound of footsteps, a pistol being cocked, and a shot. Starving kids in Russia rejoice, serving someone else's plot device. Footsteps again. The mic is switched off.*

New Deal

The other day my dad and I went to see Casino Royale. Watching the new Bond movie at a movie theater has been one of our tried and tested traditions, something that’s held ever since Pierce Brosnan was signed on (we never liked Dalton much). So it was with a great deal of caution that we approached newcomer Daniel Craig’s first outing as James Bond – we weren’t quite sure what to expect from this new deck of cards, you see, especially since he’s the first blonde Bond. Anyway, we went there and settled in to our seats, hoping for the best, but secretly expecting the worst.

The film, however, managed to beat my expectations considerably. Craig’s portrayal of a younger, colder, and more reckless Bond was just about perfect. Gone is the smooth player with his fast cars, and laser watches – instead, we have a skilled rookie who makes mistakes, acts without thinking, and has no compunctions at all. The fact that he’s blonde, when combined with his eyes, only adds to the “coldness” of his face, which is quite refreshing after Pierce Brosnan and his incessant charm. Not that he was bad, just that the change was nice, even if Craig lacks that touch of an Irish accent I loved in Brosnan and Connery.

(correction - Connery's got a Scottish accent, not Irish. Sorry.)

Another thing worth noting – there’s no Q or Moneypenny. Frankly, I feel that’s a good thing. No more fantabulous gadgets, no more fawning secretary, and no more deus ex machina to bail him out. The only tech this new Bond seems to use is his cell phone (an Ericsson, for the curious). Yet another most welcome change – there’s no Bond uber-car. As good-looking as they were, Die Another Day’s car and its active camouflage were the limit. The new Bond relies more on his fists and feet – plenty of brawling and general running/jumping around. Better for the inner adrenaline junkie when there’s no magic laser popping out of a shoe or whatever. What’s more, he isn’t so fond of his dinner jackets (or suits, or whatever you call them), either– he wears what he feels like wearing, and doesn’t obsess over his bloody martinis.

As for the story, well, it could've been better, although it could've been much worse too. The rundown (for those few of you living in Siberia who haven’t heard, given the recent media hype) – Bond becomes a 00 agent, goes after some dude called “Le Chiffre” (or summat), and gets involved in some high-stakes poker. Card games were never that interesting to me, but this one wasn’t so bad. For the most part, though, I was busy checking out Eva Green while the poker was going on ;).

Speaking of which, we now come to the Bond girls (knew you were waiting for it). Call me sexist, call me a male chauvinist pig, hell, call me Elmo if you like, the Bond girls are often among the most anticipated elements of a Bond movie, and they usually meet expectations. Mixed reactions with regard to this one, though. Caterina Murino is pretty underused – think she could’ve had a bigger role, although Eva Green did a pretty fair job. Neither was overdone or tacky, and there wasn’t the whole “good-girl-bad-girl” runaround of the past 2 movies.

That’s not to say that they were perfect – like I mentioned, Caterina Murino is strictly one-dimensional, and Eva Green a tad – just a tad – unconvincing. But what the heck, no one’s perfect.

Best part of the movie – the starting sequence. Y’know, the little bit where they usually have the silhouettes of girls bending and twisting? This time around, they’ve got a rather different style, and better music to boot. Then again, it’d have to be pretty bad to not be better than Madonna, know what I mean?

On the whole, it was worth my time and money. The coldness in Craig’s eyes, his lack of fantabulous contraptions, and the casual irreverence he with which treats M (Judi Dench, convincing as ever) really help portray the image of a younger, inexperienced Bond out on his first sortie as 007.

I do have some reservations, however. Remember Timothy Dalton? The Living Daylights was a real shot in the arm for the franchise, but License to Kill pretty much killed Dalton’s career. It would be sad if Craig went the same way, and his next movie bombed. So although Casino Royale was certainly near-perfect, can Craig maintain the same level of quality, or will he be a one-hit wonder? As the cliché goes, I suppose only time will tell.