Militant autistic manifesto: If we are in this together, why am I so afraid you are going to sell me out?

One of the worst, most deceitful gambits that the curebie movement has come up with to date is the whole “theory of mind” or “lack of empathy” gambit. Seriously, if you are going to try to blur the line between autistic and psychopath, you need to work a lot harder these days than you did in the 1980s, people. But having said all of that, it is worth talking about a few things before I get to my main point.

RoboCop is the greatest film ever made (aka Paul Verhoeven is awesome, part two of millions)

In the midsection of 1988, I got sick. I do not mean just sick like a flu, cold, or some other transient virus. I mean sick to such a degree that I stopped being afraid that I might die, and started to fear that I would not. Over a period of two or three weeks, I lost approximately two thirds of my bodyweight.

Before clicking on the jump, take note: much waxing poetic about the incomprehensible awesomeness of this film will follow. Although some elements will be kept unspoken, this will reveal much about the story. Given that the number of times I have watched this film now may even number above a thousand, that does not bother me. However, it might bother you, so consider yourself warned.