In 2009 I rode 450 miles to Atlanta to watch Evangelion 1.0 in a dingy ghetto theater marred by crackheads, which not only had a single showtime, but also played host to a 4D Rocky Horror Picture Show drunken cosplay sing-along resulting in an event where my nipple was pinched at a water fountain by a slovenly, opioid-addled sodomite wearing black leather lingerie; not to mention that upon arrival I soon discovered that the singular showing was English dubbed. How far we have come as a species.