Once, there was this place called Blockbuster. We rented movies from them. It was weird. You had to pay to get the movie and you could only keep it for a few days, then you had to give it back. If it was late, you had to pay. The selection was about as good as a root canal and half the time, people would get all the good movies before you could. It was a good idea, just like voting for Ronald Reagan was a good idea. Then, Netflix came. Ten bucks a month. Movies come to me. No late fees. Yes. Yes. A thousand times, yes. Suddenly, we questioned Blockbuster. Why should I get late fees? Three bucks for two days? And, wait, I can stream movies off my computer with Netflix? Off my television with Netflix? For no extra charge? So, yes, Blockbuster is dead. Well, it is dying. If I had a knife, I’d help out the dying. We helped kill you, Blockbuster. We’d do it again. And again and again and again. Give me a shovel. Let’s go ahead and put you in the ground, warm and crying. I’ve hated you all my life and didn’t know it, Blockbuster. You were a jerk and no one will remember you.