I am a great fan of James Bond. When I was growing up, long before Indiana Jones, John McLane, Jack Ryan, or Ethan Hunt, James Bond was the undisputed king of action. He was the archetypal superhero – a man who could kill without a follicle of hair being misplaced or bed any woman with his suave, clean-cut looks and a sly wink of an eye. He did all this with ease, never losing his cool, always the perfect British gentleman. Men around the world wanted to be him while women prayed they’d meet someone like him.