Hombre... secreto... This took a bit of time to reach me, & I apologize for it, but Jack Bauer is James Bond. I realized this watching the latest 007 installment, its action harkening, first, to the Miami Vice cinematic-adaptation of earlier this year, then (moreso) to my three seasons of 24 viewing.

From there, I looked for other parallels. Namely, the intials, JB. Also, the names in full. James Bond, with the cold precision and clipped phrasing expected of the stiff-lipped Brits. Jack Bauer, a bit of the rogue and ethnic (German), the rugged frontiersman of the years before 1890. (Thesis Turner lives.)

But apart cosmetic coincidences, we also see in each a disregard for any permanence in their associations with women (namely, lovers), a new Bond Girl for each film, a new partner for Jack in each season. This is not exactly an execreble trait, of course, as it couples with the heroes's disregard for their own physical well-being.

Last, there is the woman behind the hero whom he never courts, nor has killed, & (in each's way) calls the shots when the chips are down: M. & Chloe. (Personally, though, if one of the super-agents were to be amourous with his boss (technically, of course, Jack outranks Chloe), I'd choose Bond to get with M. Oh, Judi Dench. May-December between Craig & Dench, anyone?)

Expected age at death: 24... I've seen a website or three boasting various tests, including "your date of death will be..." examinations, & I've always marvelled at those who have taken them & are expected dead at 21, 22, 24, or 28. I always figured they were answering the questions facetiously, selecting the bubble that would most likely draw a "you should be dead, now" response. Alas, I have encountered something, not on the 'net/internets/ebay, that shows that death at 24, from alcohol poisoning, does happen.

In brief: I recognized the name coming across my desk -- for confidentiality reasons, I will not provide it -- from a few times out two years ago as a canvasser for the Kerry/Edwards campaign. I also recalled the individual not being in when I returned to her address of record, & the mother of individual not knowing to where her daugther had gotten, but assuring me that she would be voting as a Wisconsin resident & for John Kerry. (Fair enough, I thought.)

Now, I hadn't thought on this person for two-plus years, either. But, with the application that I had to send out, I knew for whom it was, right away. I almost decided, sight unseen, that it was for a deceased person. But, my mind doesn't drift to that assumption, just, for someone so young (two years my junior!).

This woman, 24, presumably politically aware & with all the accoutrements to lead a fulfilled life, was dead. Extreme intoxication from alcohol was the cause.

I have known a few like that, a few with whom a broken condom, tainted piercing or tattooing needle, or less forgiving professor(s), would have been S.O.L. & living a life not unlike those I see in my day-to-day work. (Point of fact, I've seen a few well-equipped people from my past in the position of my clientele, & all but one, much worse for the wear of a medium- to hard-life, since I knew them.) But, two days ago, there was the ultimate price for "doing what one wants, when one wants to, damn the consequences".

I only have to think, even if the consequence is death, at 24?

&, no, you won't always be as "lucky" as you've been. You aren't that special that you can take risks that will sometimes have (very) negative outcomes without ever facing such an outcome. Your choices will catch up to you, just as they have for my erstwhile likely-voter for John Kerry.

Postscript: I'm not saying it's a situation of "reaping as sown", I don't wish a child's death on any living parent, but life is not all seashells & balloons when so near the precipice. It's more, don't get too dizzy.

Urban diction... Henceforth, the sexual act known as azz2mouf ("ass-to-mouth"), and involving the anal sodomy of one's partner by either real phallus or ersatz (read: strap-on) proceeded by the oral sodomy of same, shall be referred to as "goin' Alterra". This change is due the apparent commonplace of baristas at Alterra Coffee Roasters enjoying the act so much, to the detriment of other sexual pleasures. (Then again, you don't want to get pregnant by some anime-lovin', RPG-aficionado, Japanophile geek from the local cinema, when you already have a boyfriend of long-standing who doesn't know that you are in an open-relationship.)

Sample quotation: "Slurp this santorum off my junk. We're goin' Alterra tonite".

Also, as a play on the Outback ad, which is itself a play on an Of Montreal song:

Let's go Alterra tonite, there's so much ooze on my penis
Let's go Alterra tonite, have that shit-eatin' grin in the mornin'