It’s true. While I was in Guelph, a sneaky-looking fellow handed me a disc, and told me it was just for me — and that it included the lie-correcting subtitles.
I appreciate it. I still haven’t bothered to watch it, but someday, maybe while I’m dying of some gruesome disease, I’ll want some horrible external pain to distract me, and then I’ll play it. Or maybe I’ll show it as a test of machismo — how long can I bear the stupidity before growling and mauling the machine into silence?