23. Moonraker

In just 15 years (and 9 movies) we’ve gone from Bond escaping a slow moving laser using his watch to literal laser fights in space. We’ve replaced henchmen falling over rails a few stories inside of an army base with henchmen exploding in space and plummeting hundreds of miles to earth. Special effects and extraterrestrial settings replace small scenes and fist fights inside an elevator. Bigger and bloated.

24. Octopussy

Ultimately this movie is one of too muches. Octopussy herself is a fine character with an interesting backstory, but that name is too much. James Bond going uncover in a circus has potential, but dressed as a clown with a tear? Too much. The final nail in the too much coffin was the Tarzan yodeling sound effect while Bond is swinging on vines. Way too much. That would be too much for a Mel Brooks movie. In a Bond movie? Frustratingly too much.

A little Bond project

People around the world have reacted to the global pandemic in unique ways. Some people have taken the forced time at home to complete ambitious projects, re-surface creative endeavors they had been too busy for, or simply revel in the unusual increase in valuable, all-too-fleeting time with family.

I myself rewatched every James Bond movie in order.

Vote now for my book cover (please)

They say not to judge a book by its cover but I need you to do just that. If you liked the cover of my book, The Alien in the Backseat, please vote for it for the Cover of the Month contest on AllAuthor.com! It takes just a few seconds and requires nothing more than a click. Vote for my book cover here:

Buried

We buried our despair in the shade of the pine tree,
holding hands as we turned our backs
on those needling thoughts left in the dark.

The hulking ogre took root, waiting
to spring on us when we tried to take cover
beneath the canopy of stars
stretched too tightly that cool night.

A possum or some other unanticipated visitor
disturbed the tranquility, clawing at the dirt
until the ogre — always lurking as we
were distracted by routine — jumped out

to terrorize us once more
while we scrambled for a shovel
or another plot of land.

Ought to be

It would be folly to consider myself
where I ought to be, as if ‘ought’
could glow in your hand
like half-eaten candy thawing
memories under open clouds.

What hubris man to divine
import from earth-bound particles
bouncing among people walking
heads down, the center of it all.

Heavenly bodies revolve
around some other lantern
the same as me, sticky fingers
sweeter from the journey.