It's becoming exponentially more difficult every day since the whistle was (justly) blown on a certain fatcat Hollywood producer to muster up any enthusiasm for the actors, directors, producers, co-producers, co-co producers, gaffers, bestboys, worstboys, stagehands, stagefeet that have been j'accused of sexual misconduct after sexual misconduct and far graver than that. It's a sad day when the heroes have become villains, those certain something go to places when it all gets too bleak to have suddenly overnight become cordoned off spaces that you dare not enter. I am not here for any such acts of pillory, only to say that enough is certainly enough!
And maybe it's because each time I put on the news of late, I have come in touch with my own post-trauma demons, the feeling that doesn't seem to wane for a rape survivor who has been harassed by people in positions of power especially whence being reminded of it day in and out, when will this all go away I ask you.
Even at the risk of sounding like Pollyana in Wonderland, it once was a comfort to seek such refuge in a few of these malcontent movie-stars and it's harder to tell who would have had to be put on this revolutionary blacklist then (Clark Gable) but one can take heart in going backwards or maybe the only way to find solace in the stars is to open your window, look above as the evening descends.