Holy Prime Directive, you're Robocop!
Well, you're neither colossal, nor technically a robot, but your arthritic lurching and dubious morals have found their way into the hearts of futuristic rebels and children everywhere. You walk through fire, catch bullets from the air, and you never, ever smile. Combine this with an abstract, almost random concept of duty and honour, and you have a police officer one cannot fail to adore.
Thank you, Robocop.