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Arthur Anderson, Accounts at large
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And also the ending, while a compromise, is deftly done. But jesus he really mangles some of the beautiful prose Moore wrote, often for no reason. Particularly Rorschach’s monologue about how he became Roschach, which is the heart of the story. Compare the book’s line:

I suppose it’s just more amazing how little penis action we get on screen in mainstream cinema. in general.

“where he proceeds to explosively decompress”

“This is why women don’t like him”