Ghosts of the Iron Curtain


‘Submitted for your approval,’ she said, taking a long, hungry gulp on her cigar and looking me straight in the eye. ‘What if – in the last days of the Cold War, there was one guy – one kegebishniki – who swore revenge on the people who were destroying his Motherland, and decided to set off on some Count of Monte Cristo plan to bring them down?’

‘This is the plot of Goldeneye, darling,’ I rolled my eyes. She leaned forward excitedly.

‘That’s IT! That’s precisely it. This is the plot of Goldeneye. That’s because we already knew what was going on on some level…call it the aeonosphere or the Akashic Net or whatever holographic universe quantum model they’re wanking about this week…Hell, call it what Blake did, the Imagination…we knew this was going on. We knew.

‘This is…we’ll have to make new…models…’ I stumbled. I didn’t know if it was the aroma of the blunt or the dizziness of the concept that was making me absurdly high. ‘There’s an idea…they’re calling it the amplituhedron…’


‘No no stay with me, baby, ‘ she said, reaching over. ‘Remember, the movies, they kept telling us this was going to happen?’


‘This isn’t just the plot of Goldeneye, it’s the plot of The Dark Knight Rises, it’s the plot of Skyfall, it’s even in Game of Thrones if you squint a bit, because this is a story, and the story itself is trying to tell us what is going on, right?’


‘So. Stay with me here. This is a story. Plot it.’

Trespasses anew

‘Well, he’d have to be quite dull…anyone who was seen as a serious threat would’ve been hoovered up or gotten rid of. He’d have to be a bit of a functionary, grey sort of man.’


‘But he would have to carry an intense hate, in his heart, for the West. Like, a massive, disproportionate lust for vengeance. A real fucking hard-on for it. Because he’d have to…’

‘…get good at manipulating the neoliberal system to allow himself to rise on the very currents your Fukuyamas and your Friedmans are telling everyone will consign his ilk to the dustbin of history?’

‘Aaaaargh, this is so fucking obvious. Mr Silva. FUCK! I feel fucking tricked. It’s such a big trope…

‘No no, stay with me, because we’re plotting this, remember?’


‘And if the heroes work this out at the end of the second act…’

‘Holy shit,‘ I said.

‘Holy shit,’ she said. ‘Exactly. Holy fucking shit.’



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