If Lashana Lynch is the next Bond, then the franchise has lost me.

Not that your average progressive gives a shit if another traditionalist drops off the list. The twentysomethings who besiege us with their dull opinions have decided Bond is a rapey misogynist, and it’s time for him to sprout some tiny black tits.

Enter Lashana Lynch.

I don’t care how much tacti-cool gear they drape over her, she isn’t Bond. To boost her credibility, she will have to kill a myriad of martially trained males who IRL would simply snap her neck. But for the sake of “We can do it!” conflated with BLM she’ll be slayin’ dudes left, right and centre.

Because slayin’ is the heart of Bond, both ladies and men. There’s always a faint chance that one man, one blunt instrument, can somehow hew his way to the heart of the matter through sheer muscular effort.

I’ve seen Lashana, and she ain’t got it. This will be Ghostbusters (2016) yet nobody will admit it.

So my recommendation is this: end Bond now. They kill Daniel Craig off in the final film (I believe) so let Lashana strut through the door as 008 or something. Lay the real James Bond to rest, instead of shitting on his memory.

If it’s truly about respect, then show some, you bitches.

A product of times which the most delicate among us can no longer tolerate, lay Bond down and let him rest in peace. I will miss him. The only reason half the males on Earth pretend to enjoy a martini is because of Sean fucking Connery.

What an awful drink.

But in any case, and regardless of what the idiots do, I’ll still have mine shaken, not stirred.

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