"Bond saw luck as a woman, to be softly wooed or brutally ravaged, never pandered to or pursued. But he was honest enough to admit that he had never yet been made to suffer by cards or by women. One day, and he accepted the fact, he would be brought to his knees by love or by luck. When that happened he knew that he too would be branded with the deadly question-mark he recognized so often in others..."
"Back when was SportsCenter was good, they ran a big special report on athletes and 'The Zone,' that mystical place athletes (pro and amateur alike) go when they make every shot, or aim every throw with perfect precision, or make five birdies in a row… the strange and all-too-brief hot streak where you can do no wrong and you're not quite sure why. ESPN ran the segment after what is arguably the most famous example of this happening: the 1992 NBA finals, when Michael Jordan dropped six three-pointers in one half on the Blazers and gave The Shrug.
When they interviewed MJ after the game, he was at a loss to describe why he nailed virtually every shot he took. 'The first one felt so good, I had to take more. I don’t exactly know how to explain it.' He wasn't just his usual, ass-kicking self. He was his NBA Jam 'On Fire' self, and despite all his training and force of will, he was still reduced to shrugging when asked to explain how he did it. That is The Zone: when all your talent and preparation and sociopathic competitiveness combine in a run that seems like a gift from the divine. You've seen it happen. Maybe you've even experienced it firsthand. I swear I got on a Tetris run once that would have blown your damn mind."
"Brett, you talked yourself into a spot at NYU despite being a C-student. And then you somehow convinced enough people to give you enough money to film Chris Tucker screaming and Jackie Chan punching for ninety minutes—three times—and you somehow made over $800 million at the box office doing it. You then somehow convinced Eddie Murphy to make movies again, and then somehow got hired to produce the Academy Awards, and then somehow convinced Eddie Murphy to host them. You ruined the X-Men franchise and insulted Olivia Munn and an army of nerds didn't murder you for it.
Don't. Touch. Anything."
Here, we attempt to classify and categorize the various methods used in unsuccessful attempts on the life of seemingly unkillable shrieking machine, Jimmy Savile. He could have been our JFK, if he wasn’t so damned wiley.
"At one party, I narrowly escaped being knifed, with a breadknife as it happens."
"First, I nearly got shot."
"My first terror was being set on by three Dobermann dogs on only the second day, but saved by my heavy plastic overgear."
"The noble shire beast reared up on its back legs and uttered a shrill cry of fear. The Mayor promptly applied the brakes and near dislocated my two arms and neck simultaneously."
"Apparently he feared that it was some sort of preliminary Kung Fu attack for, with a hoarse shout, he stepped back and drew from a Sam Browne holster a hand gun – hay, cannon – with a bore on it like the exhaust of my Rolls Royce."
I HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA. ELEPHANT HUNTERS? STEAMPUNK NINJAS?
—Stuart Millard on
Jimmy Savile's Love is an Uphill Thing