W Adam Mandelbaum Esq

Besides the Martinis, girls and guns, one of the coolest features of any Bond novel or film, is the bad guy opposing Bond.

They are often men of wealth and taste, and in this article we shall do a little investigating into the investments, occupations, and maneuvers that made these malicious men rich and powerful, and worthy opponents of 007.

Now any reader of the Bond novels, any viewer of the movies knows that James Bond maintains a dangerous lifestyle. Bullets, bombs, barracuda, sharks and other creepy crawly monsters under the sea, missiles, poisoned knives, centipedes, and other evil wicked things all conspire to send double o seven to double o heaven.

But one clear and present danger often ignored is what Bond eats.

When we read the Fleming novels, or watch the movies, we get the idea of a 007 somewhere between his late thirties and early forties—depending on which book we read or movie we see. We might say that there is a special decade to be Bond at his best—between thirty five and forty five.

Once again we turn to the short stories of Fleming to see what advice we can glean to feed the Bond Brain. Let’s turn to Risico, a lesser known short story, first. Probably won’t ever see that as a movie title, but there’s plenty of bang bang in this one, with some memorable characters.

So there’s no mistake, we are not dealing with the movie here, we are dealing with Ian Fleming’s short story. It has perhaps the least excitement of any of his Bond tales - it’s all basically a story about a married couple’s downfall being told to Bond in a stodgy Nassau country club by an elderly civil servant. Yep, that’s it.

Bond has just enjoyed getting into “training” with Jill Masterson—an Iron Horse ride from Miami to New York, paid for courtesy of Auric Goldfinger. On dropping off Jill at Pennsylvania Station, Bond reflects “Some love is fire, some love is rust, but the finest cleanest love is lust.”

One of the things about James Bond is he is careful. Careful about what he eats, drinks, smokes, and also about the people he befriends. So should you be.

After having survived two hours and twenty three minutes of viewing SkyFall, I have selected perhaps the only passage in Thunderball wherein we get a glimpse of the Bond Brain. It bears on both movies and people.

Fifty years ago this was the first film for Bond, so in honor of a half century of cinematic 007 we will turn the Bond Brain to Dr. No, but by the book, not the film, for our purposes.

In this installment of The Bond Brain we read our tarot cards, cast our spells, avoid getting chomped on by sharks, and learn how to Live it Up (but not let die).

After looking at the Bond Brain in the Casino Royale novel, we continue with the Bond Brain as evidenced by quotes from the Fleming novels. In this installment, we not only quote 007, but the late and lamented Darko Kerim, the Brit’s man in Istanbul in From Russia With Love.

We continue our journey through the books to glean wisdom from the Bond Brain, and in this installment, we shall fill a rather sensuous but cynical basket of goodies from Casino Royale.

In this series of articles, we are going to take a look at the Bond brain as it manifests in the books, and see what useful lessons we can learn in applying Bond brain techniques in our own missions. As Casino Royale was the first Fleming novel, so shall that be our first stop.

Besides the martinis, girls and guns, one of the fascinating features of the James Bond Lifestyle is the experiences of international travel.

Let's face it, no matter what we do, no matter where we are, a large part of what we do is rather dull. Boring. Even those of us who actually performed intelligence functions in the real world at one time, will admit that much of what we did was a snore. Bond, being a fictional creation, a two dimensional denizen of book and film, never has a dull moment apparently.

Bond isn't always crashing cars, dodging bullets, saving the world, or servicing the ladies. He does everyday stuff also, just like we all do.

Wheels, wardrobe, Walther, women.

As of this writing, Roger Moore is over 80, and Sean Connery is 78. Unlike the cinema Bond, whose look forever hovers somewhere in the late 30s, real agents get older.

While it's great to be able to get away for a few weeks and play Bond in luxurious exotic locations, it's not always possible to do so.

For those who wish to be more like Bond, what better source of advice than that of his "own" which we find in the Ian Fleming books?

Let's say you've got the wine and the women and the wardrobe like Bond. What else can get you there?