I want to be a spy
Russian spies plead guilty opening way for spy swap: All 10 Russian spy suspects have pleaded guilty in a move that could open the way for a possible spy swap deal between Russia and the US. The defendants each announced their pleas to conspiracy to act as an unregistered agent of a foreign country. An 11th defendant was a fugitive after he fled authorities in Cyprus following his release on bail. It is thought prosecutors were going to drop the more serious charges of money laundering as long as the group pleaded guilty to acting as agents of a foreign government. In return, they will have to leave the country.
I’ve always wanted to be a secret agent. Now more than ever. (Only now, in my rich fantasy life I can’t figure out if I want to be a Russian spy in America, or an American spy in Russia. I don’t think there’d be all that much difference frankly.) Anyway, I want that job. I mean, who wouldn’t right? It’s a glamorous existence with a great exit strategy. And I’m more cut out for it than most. For what is a spy if not an actor, with some journalistic instincts? I hear a lot of talk, but I can keep a secret. (Which is why I hear a lot of talk).
Hell, I’ve even played a Russian secret agent living in Washington for TNT. That’s me in character below, getting out of a Soviet era limousine, a thing of great beauty – unlike the bloke in front of it.
Anyway, I’ll say it again. I want to be a spy. I want to go to clandestine meetings in nightclubs brimming with leggy supermodels and exchange briefcases under the table. I want to speak with a devastatingly sexy accent and be tempted into a honeytrap with a woman like Anna Kuschenko, I want to have wives in three different states, I want to speak English, Russian and American and fly Gulfstream from Moscow to Miami where I gamble at casinos all night but still somehow keep enough money aside for a little (okay very large) dacha in the country when I retire in a few years. I want to drive fast everywhere and sleep late if at all and get a bit too cocky for my own good. And best of all, when I am finally discovered by authorities and indicted in money laundering and espionage, the worst I want to happen is to be incarcerated a few days in you know, ‘tennis prison’. While I’m inside, I’d like the world’s media to do my job for me – and pave the way for a book and movie deal of my so-called glamorous life. Then, after that starts to pall, I’d like to be able travel back home and be lauded as a national hero, and all because I am being ‘traded’ for my some of my opposite number from the CIA or KGB or such. I’d like the governments of Russia and the US, a Real dictatorship and a Pretend democracy, to announce they’re going to do this and for the disenfranchised, bewildered populus (populi?) of both countries just to let it slide by, another weird billboard on the highway of corruption that is contemporary political life. I just saw the movie Kick-Ass, and well, you know how much the lead character wanted to be a Super-Hero, that’s how much the Jet-Set Hobo wants to be a Spy. So, if you’re in the spy recruiting racket and appreciate discretion, do find a way to get in touch. The secret catchphrase will be: “The summers in Budapest are always unpredictable.”
Thank you for listening, or for listening in. This whole site is bugged you know, but one of these days we’re going to find that goddamn mole.