I chose Kwiang’o Nattitude because I wanted a black woman with an attitude in my Bond book – and movie! I had looked at Rena Easton and Lara Roozemond as being the Bond muse. But, then I found this woman – under a rose hat. Her name is Leslie. I met her just before I found Lara. She made me look at my prejudices about Beauty something that Belle brought up. Victoria Bond is very smart. But, would she look and act the part?
I asked if Leslie could kill anyone. Then I saw Lara in a video about a gun. When I heard how soft and feminine her voice is, I shed tears, for I think most women hate guns, and find it very easy to reject them – along with violence. How then will Victoria be a good agent? To look at the violent women behind OUR President encouraging violence as necessary for being a God-fearing Nationalist, is a study on how our attitudes can be changed and manipulated. Many German women knew what their Nazi husbands were doing to the Jews.
The Evangelical Trumpire wrote a terrible script around The Four Women Horseman of the Socialist Apocalypse in order to put Donald back in the White House. Omar is a woman with an attitude that needs to be sent back from where it came – because it is Un-American! Victoria Bond is a British Subject – with an attitude!
In researching what that attitude would look like, I was compelled to be more honest. This woman has done the work. Leslie is as white as can be – and knows it but she identifies with the Black Lives Matter Movement. She has to know her stuff, and work that much harder to fulfil THE VISION. She is not a beauty. She is a plain Jane. Both Lara and Rena are Plain Janes – inside. They are also poets. My interview with Leslie was an epic poem.
So let’s put Victoria Jane Bond in Grey Cloud, driving as fast as she can in Greycloud to the Osborne House, because Iran has seized a British oil tanker – which is real breaking news. She spots Mirian Starfish Christling picking dandelions for her lunch.
“Get in! Hurry! For Christ-sakes! You’re not wearing your loin cloth!”
I am going to try to sell Victoria Bond as a Serial. Meg Whitman and others are talking about making mini-movies. There so much going on, that by the time I’ve written a book, it is yesterday’s papers. I want to present a weekly Alternative Reality as seen through the eyes of two British Agents, Victoria and Miriam (Mary). I see Victoria looking up at Miriam who is of tall Nordic Russian Stock. Her attitude is a big as mother Russia. Dead people lie in her wake. This is an odd pairing based upon my friend, Bruce Perlowin, and his wife, Svetlana, a real Russian Spy.
Bruce reminds me of Mr. Peepers. Victoria and Starfish are Eggheads. Bruce was one of the biggest drug dealers in history, but, he did not believe in being armed. He considered himself a Hippie and had a Guru. This is key because drug gangs in Central America are driving people north. These people are being used in a evil political manner that involves religious propaganda aimed at beating the Bohemian Left, a perceived enemy. The term “Send them back to Africa’ is in the minds of once innocuous white women who put Trump in office, and are poised so to do again. This is a………….Woman’s War!
Mr. Wizard is Professor John Von John a White Bohemian Liberal who can’t get it right, and is always getting in trouble with Leftist Women whom he admires. He is mistaken as a smart-ass Jew who thinks he knows everything.
Here is a video of me at a book signing and Radical Tactic speech given by one of Alley Valkyries Radical Attorneys. I suggest that because it looks like Hillary is a shoe-in, the best way to disrupt the Republican Convention is have a million old hippies register as Republicans and show up as crazy old white dudes for Trump. An old hippie scoffed at me.
Every show will start out with a video of a famous person dancing to ‘Who Want’s Yesterday’s Papers’ by The Rolling Stones.
“Send her back! Send her back! Send her back!”
It’s hard not to feel chills when you watch the video of a Trump rally in North Carolina where this chant, directed at Rep. Ilhan Omar, breaks out. The president, in the middle of a diatribe against Omar, pauses and looks out as the crowd chants — not smiling, exactly, but doing nothing to calm the chanters or quiet their refrain.
That moment, the chant demanding that a naturalized citizen and member of Congress be “sent back” to her native Somalia booming through an audience of thousands, put on display the particular fusion of racism and authoritarianism that defines Trumpism as a political movement.
“Send her back” is not the first such chant to break out at Trump events; it follows “lock her up,” the ritual demand from Trump supporters that Hillary Clinton be sent to jail. Together, “lock her up” and “send her back” demonstrate beyond doubt that the law, in the Trumpian view, is a vehicle for punishing political enemies and minority groups.
The UK Chamber of Shipping said it “condemn unreservedly” the capture of a British tanker.
Here’s the statement from CEO Bob Sanguinetti:
We condemn unreservedly the capture of Stena Impero as she transited the Strait of Hormuz earlier today. The action by those involved is in violation of international regulations which protect ships and their crews as they go about their legitimate business in international waters.
Our priority is for the safety and welfare of the crew. We call on the UK Government to do whatever is necessary to ensure their safe and swift return.
This incident represents an escalation. Whilst we call for measured response, it is also clear that further protection for merchant vessels must be forthcoming to ensure enhanced security to guarantee free flow of trade in the region.
Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps said its navy has captured the British-flagged oil tanker in the Strait of Hormuz. Two US officials also said a British tanker has been seized.
“Well, today’s the BIG DAY! You’re off to see The Wizard!” piped Kwiang’o Nattitude the receptionist – with a wink.
“Yeah. Right!” Victoria said with a accent of a true skeptic, she already accessing this was going to be a psychological test of some kind that she must pass before she becomes a BAD agent. She was well-prepared. Reading a million coats of arms had taken her to a place very few have gone. How important people want to be seen, and remembered, is utterly strange. Their arms are living eulogies and summation of their being.
“Am I going to be given a Rorschach Test?” Victoria inquired, she fearing this would be the case and the end of her career, because all she sees is coats of arms in the ink blotches. She had spent days clearing her mind so the Wizard can get to her deep subconcoceince and look for Thought Disoders. Already she felt – violated!
“I hope he doesn’t see that?” Victoria said aloud.
“See what?” Kwiango asked, feigning ignorance, because she knew The Test began days ago.
“Nothing.” Victoria replied as she studied Kwiango’s Zimbabwe outfit. She understood that eccentrics make the best agents because they not only think outside the box, they dwell there. They can never be – put in a box! But, apparently the Wizard was going to do just that, and Victoria already hated him. Will this show?
“You can go in, now!”
Victoria put her hand on the doorknob that looked like the head of a Gargoyle, and, let out a yelp, jumping back a few feet, when a small speaker said;
Kwiango put her hand to her mouth to hide her grin and muffle her tittering.
Entering the darkened room that had a suspended ball that cast stars on the wall, Victoria let out a tisk from the corner of her mouth. There was a portely overdone gentleman in a wizard oufit who looked like Santa Claus working the graveyard shift. He was brushing crumbs off the Amercan flag he war like a bib.
“Have a seat!” the Wizard said. “I’m just finishing up lunch. Did you have a good lunch?”
“No. I was told not to take a lunch before my appointment.”
“Who told you that? That person was mistaken. Please, give me her/his name.”
Victoria watched the Wizard pick up a pencil with stars all over it, and had it poised to write on a piece of paper with faint fairies dancing on it. Sencing a trap, Victoria lied.
“I forget who told me!”
“Oh, really! You have a faulty memory?”
“I think so!”
“Has – faulty – memory!” the Wizard said aloud as he wrote.
“Please, have a seat! Did I already say that?”
“If you says so!” Victoria looked down at the white unicorn that took up most of the chair she was bid to sit in.
“There’s a unicorn in that chair!”
“Indeed there is. Do you like unicorns?”
“Sure. Who doesn’t – I guess!”
“You can put Zepheron in your lap to make more room.”
“Would you like to pet Zepheron?”
“No!” Victoria said without hesitation.
“Hmm! Applicant – has – become – attached – to -Zepheron!” the Wizard wrote.
Victoria started to raise her hand in protest, when she felt eyes upon her. Looking in the conrer, there sat the most mystical human being she ever saw. She was staring holes right through her. She didn’t blink.
‘Oh! That’s my assistant, Chelsea Sunrise.
Victoria let go a smile.
“Would her middle name be ‘Morning’?”
“Excuse me!” the wizard said gruffly. “That was rather rude. Her middle name is Murial. Do you always assume to know what peoples names are?”
“Well, no! But, there is this song by Judy Collins. Have you heard it?”
“I’ll be asking the question around here. Claims-she-can-read-minds. Now, apologize to Ms. Sunrise!”
“Sorry! Can I ask what she is doing?”
“That’s question No.2! Does – not- follow- instructions. If you must know, she is conduction an Aura Reading. Your aura is being read. She is using the crayloas to fill in your chart. Show her what you got so far, Chelsea.”
“I never agreed to an Aura Reading. Is this necessary?”
“Question No.3! All agents are required to take a Aura Test twice a year, to chack for hidden agendas. Chelsea has a knack for spotting bad people out in a crowd – who have evil intentions. The Secret Service borrows her when POTUS comes to England. They have a nickname for her. Want to take a stab at it?
“What did you say?” the Wizard asked. He was clearly agitated. Tink turned her head slowly to the Wizard as if she was a automaton, and made hand gestures, using the Ogham hand-signing.
“Ms. Sunrise said she will be doing the Psychic Reading around here! You do not own her permission to read her. Is that clear?”
Fuck! said Victoria to herself, and Tink put her hand to her mouth – in shock!
“Did you just THINK a dirty word?”
There was a long pregnant silence full of psychic tension. One could hear the theme song from the Twilight Zone. All of a sudden, Victoria spotted it, under a belljar with a light radiating from the base.
“Oh my God!” Victoria gasped, and leaned forward. The wizard moaned when Zepheron hit the floor.
“No! Please! Put that back! cried the Wizard, his whimpering getting a look from Tink, who saw weakness here.
“They’re all here! The Yankee team of 39. You got Ty Cobb whose batting average was 375, with 23 homeruns, 6 SBs, 23 BIs…………
Tink gave the wizard a worried look. Shen knew her master had lost complete control of the interview. A crayon snapped in her hand as a torrent of baseball statistics rained down on them like large hail. They were powerless to stop her as Victoria rotated the Babe Ruth ball in her hand, as if it was The World. Victoria was…………In The Zone!
To be continued