James 007 Bond: “Stealth bombers losing”
Unnoticed by detection systems, he sauntered into
“Does that give the Americans a hundred stealth delivery systems?” 007 asked.
“Classified, but close, James,” M responded.
“So their B-2’s carry 40,000 pounds of munitions. precision guided bombs are actually "dumb" munitions, using a JDAM guidance system. And since Northrop Grumman revolutionary 1980’s computer design and manufacturing technologies, they’ve been developing better bat mobiles, even though mere inclement weather often garages their use.”
“Correct, James. Now we are asked to compare their stealth deadliness to their enemies’ comparables.”
His smile at the curvaceous secretary turns to a squint at
M, “After the memos, the
“No, James. Some disgruntled CIA friends are requesting our analysis. So this must be button-lipped research, not even mumbled during pillow talks.”
“Well, M, I could save them my costly intriguing time by answering now.”
With an ever so slight cock-eyed cock of his cockneyed eyebrow, M responded, “You’ve done the analysis, James?”
“I spend most of my hours quite awake, aware, and analytically, not pillowed, lest I be pilloried, M.”
“Yes, of course you do, 007. Your learned conclusions, then, James?”
“With perhaps fifty technologically superior, non-detectable machines that kill from high above the clouded people fray, Uncle Sam’s deadly machines are unmatched. But their enemies’ strategy will defeat Yankee technology.”
“James, their enemies aren’t even uniformed… And you conclude
“M, our bedraggled wards weren’t uniformed when our superior uniforms lost to their coonskins. The yanks’ hungry $2 billion birds drop on cities and people, like our cannon balls did. Maiming bird droppings make how many friends? Our flying black balls made how many ragamuffins lie down?
“Prior to 911, M.I.6. counted less than a thousand fanatics willing to detonate their bodies. How high does M.I.6. count today, M?”
Bond moved to the globe sitting on the corner of M’s desk, “
“Rumsfeld’s stealth paint and tape may absorb radar waves, but those invisible torpedoes are part of what enlists millions of crazed fanatics and that leaves them and us pretty much… ,” as Bond spun the globe with his middle finger, and coolly looked at M with his pointed global positioning system
“The curved and tilted mirrors brilliantly skins, reflects,
and thereby protects the B-2. But
sheathing doesn’t protect
M, do you suppose those White House boys ever read any history?”
“If your recommendations are Cliff Noted, maybe they’ll read yours, Bond.”
Smiling, Bond replies, “Witty, M… Maybe just have Condi tell Bush during their workouts to send more Yanks into the field doing what chaps like I do.”
“Which is, James?”
With a glancing arch of his eyebrows, “M, you know… My work develops civil societies that builds on making love not war, avoiding destruction, encouraging worldwide intercourse, and rapport. The yanks should send a million me’s into today’s morphing battlefields to win hearts and minds.”
“What delivery systems do they have to replicate enough you’s, 007?”
“Well, they could enact that citizen-initiated World Service Corps Congressional proposal calling for a million to serve in their choice of the Peace Corps, AmeriCorps, Habitat for Humanity, Head Start, Doctors Without Borders, or the Red Cross. That would replicate enough me’s and free me up for a lot more civil pillow talk.”
“What are you talking about, Bond?”
“M, you need to kick back and surf more. Go to www.worldservicecorps.us. Learn how
“James, your mind is always detectable, even under stealth sheets.”
“Yes, in the dark of night or the bright of day, I rise to the desired occasion. Peace and love continues to heighten and inspire me to service world needs.”