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Bonding Rituals

A 007 fanatic hits the mother lode of secret agent lore

"I just got done burning all my clothes," explains The Barin, whose real name is Brian, but likes to go under the name Barin Darnew, probably just to piss off his parents, "so I could buy some new ones."

Ian Fleming spins in his grave, and the Arizona Science Center has a hit on its hands.
Matthew Henry Hall
Ian Fleming spins in his grave, and the Arizona Science Center has a hit on its hands.

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I look at my pal as we make our way toward the "Bond, James Bond" expo at the Arizona Science Center. We are both huge James Bond freaks, the only difference being I was born before the first film, and when The Barin rocked his way into the world, it was already the shitty Roger Moore era of lukewarm jokes and blow-dried hair. Anyway, he's wearing all black, as usual. And I'm in my punk rock utility vest with the U.S. pins.

"Looks like you are wearing the same stuff to me," I comment to The Barin, who's in the passenger seat, wearing his dark sunglasses and rock-star smile.

"It's different," says The Barin. His voice and outfit could resemble almost any James Bond supervillain except Osama bin Laden. He's the real thing. "I went to some stores and purchased all the same clothes."

"Huh?" I ask my world-dominating friend, who tells me that if he were to run the world, everything would be "roses and rabbits."

Fucking artists.

"I went out and purchased the same socks, same underwear, same tee shirts, same black button-up shirts and same black pants. Many pairs of them. This way, I never have to worry about what to wear," says The Dark Barin.

"You know," I point out, "most Bond supervillains always wear the same thing, too."

"Oh, yeah," he says, rubbing his supervillain chin, "they do."

"All you need is a white pussy with you all the time," I tell him.

"Tell me about it," he fires back.


Once we arrive at the Arizona Science Center and head inside, it's The Barin who first makes the comment about how the place would be the perfect location for any Bond supervillain. "It even looks like a villain's fortress," he says, staring at the industrial brown and gray walls. "This place could be the Death Star."

I remind my friend that today we are playing James Bond, not Star Wars. And that George Lucas sucked after his first three films. The Barin starts in about Stormtroopers and I tell him again that today it's all about James Bond.

Actually, the woman who takes our tickets is the first to point out that fact. After we fork over the dough for what I can only say is orgasmic bliss for a Bond freak like me, the chick behind the counter says, "Welcome to 'Bond, James Bond.'" I ask her if she is forced to say that, or if she's just being cool like The Barin and me. She explains it's her job. So I ask her what her favorite Bond film is, hoping like hell she doesn't say A View to a Kill, The Barin's favorite, because it's got Christopher Walken in it, and he's only in it because David Bowie turned down the role because the script stunk so badly.

"I haven't seen a Bond film in years," the woman replies.

I dispense with my "shaken, not stirred" line, and the one about getting something off her chest.

Amateurs.


Inside, we find the Jaguar XKR Roadster that Pierce Brosnan drove in Die Another Day. The flick that also featured Halle Berry. Both of those actors suck. Halle, more so. I mean, okay, Brosnan had the James Bond role locked up before Timothy Dalton, at least according to Alvin Ross, the guy who tours with the Bond expo. He explains to The Barin and me later in the day that Brosnan was rumored to fill Roger Moore's role as 007, but his Remington Steele contract got in the way.

But even with Brosnan's blow-dried hair and Bondish good looks, I still think he's second in bad Bonds next to Roger Moore, who only did three great Bond films: Live and Let Die, The Man With the Golden Gun, and The Spy Who Loved Me. And I only mention the last film because I have such a hard-on for Barbara Bach, you'll never know. Those pouty Russian lips, those breathtaking breasts, that accent. Wow.

But then there's Halle Berry. She shows her boobies in Swordfish and I'm supposed to be impressed. As The Barin later points out, she ran over someone and didn't even stop. Celebrity jerk.

Where was I?

Oh, yeah, so after seeing the Jaguar, which, The Barin says, "has a nice color and would be good in traffic" because of the mounted machine gun on the back, we walk around and find the alligator submarine for Octopussy and the jet with the folding wings from the same film. While it all looks very impressive, I have a problem with Octopussy and Maud Adams, and no matter how cool the props are, I think the movie sucks, so I don't care.

What I care about are the MI6 items. And pictures of the actors who played M in the Bond flicks. Of course, I like Bernard Lee, the original during the golden years of Sean Connery, but The Barin sort of digs Judi Dench.

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