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.

Went out and bought a “reader”…

I am a man of impulses and impulsive habits. So when I looked at my bank balance for the fortnight and discovered it was substantially more than I was expecting, I decided to do what I had been thinking of doing for a couple of months prior and purchase what is being loosely termed an e-reader.