My only regret? That it wasn't me. This is clearly, like Mien Kamph, a misunderstood work of heartbreaking genius, and anyone should be teary at the thought of the two magnificent tomes sharing pride of place on the family bookshelf, perhaps also snuggled next to this here. Nu?
Yeah, that's what I thought. I should start doing book reviews for the lulz.
Also, happy new year, mien kinder.