I've now officially broken my self-pledged rule of only reviewing novels (or non-fiction books that are shaped like novels ... fucking you know what I mean).
Here I am doing goddamned picture-books now. Soon I'll be reviewing the weekly bulletin at my church; I mean I could certainly have a go at their typos and all that. Perhaps I'll get to reviewing all the self-help books I've collected over the years and been too ashamed to tell anyone about, such as 'Guinea Pigs Haven't Done Anything To You, You Sick Bastard', 'There's No Need To Kill Yourself ... Yet', 'Your Psychiatrist Isn't Out To Get You', and my personal saviour, 'D.I.Y. Testicle Growing: A Teenager's Guide To Moving On'.
Then again, maybe I won't, seeing as none of them helped me in the slightest. But let's focus on this book, shall we? I have called it a picture-book, mostly because I spend more time looking at its many photos, than I do reading Roger Moore's bumbling, self-appreciative reflections on what an awesome Bond he was. That's basically what this book is. Roger Moore (God bless him) is once again capitalizing on the thriving 007 franchise. As much as I loved him as Bond - yeah, I know many people didn't, but I grew up on his films - I do get the impression that the senile old boy is clawing onto the films in a desperate attempt to remind us that he was once in Daniel Craig's shoes - thus revitalizing his faded ego, which I imagine has suffered greatly after going from taking showers with Tanya Roberts, to having ten-minute sex with his arthritic wife, once every twelve months. (I don't know what's wrong with me tonight; I've got a fucking cold, and they tend to make me somewhat ... facetious (thankyou, Thesaurus, I'll be reviewing you next week).
Anyway, fuck, the book is certainly an entertaining bundle of pages if you like or care about more than the last three Bond films, you assholes. Amongst Mr. Moore's "charmingly dry, English wit", there are actually some very interesting bits of trivia that you might not have known about before.
Not just that, but Moore gives a detailed account on every single friend, villain, sex-object, gadget, car, and location that features within any of the 23 Bond films. Like I said, if you're as much a fan as I myself am, then the book proves very interesting. Complete with many photos (mostly of Roger Moore, naturally), 'Bond On Bond: Reflections On A Fucking Long Title' is well worth the money. Then again, I got this for Christmas; I assume that Santa's little henchmen put this together, and probably interviewed Roger Moore extensively through the post or something. Fuck I'm hilarious. Ambrose Bierce has cynically defined the term 'Review' as: "To set your wisdom (holding not a doubt of it, although in truth there's neither bone nor skin to it) at work upon a book, and so read out of it the qualities you have first read into it". Meaning that any asshole who thinks he's reviewing something, is merely projecting his own assumed self-importance, and using that chosen item as the engine.
But what does he know?