” For every shot of a generously breasted naked cyborg plummeting from the top of a building, there was a scene in which characters grappled with knotty philosophical questions. What is the nature of identity when the brain is souped up with cyber-implants and the soul is reduced to a series of electrical impulses? (Incidentally, the question of why a cyborg would need a gigantic pair of knockers in the first place was left unanswered.)”
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Bathos at its most politically incorrect best.