Jane Alexander is no longer applicable for the rest of us

"I guess I have to learn how to work with someone in a wheelchair."-- Karina K, who didn't.

The ability to absorb leaves you numb once the half century mark is passed, relative to how much of the human condition one can stand. When I was at the basilica last week at the behest of my dying aunt, whom I pulled on unforgivably after my mother dropped, no one left to pull on now, since, should Marie beat her odds and stabilize, she is now hospice flesh, give or take how many weeks, the voice of adolescence wriggled. Go back to church, but then there was a slated cellphone contact. Catholic Social Services, the front line for urban destitution. The worm turned into a detonation device in my stressed colon, realizing I cannot just nicely gloss things over with American Catholicism, the Jane Alexander I grew up with quietly exiting stage left, knowing wisely not to expend her waning capital, a Waspish supporter of divas, never an A list herself, the woman on the median between Hoffman and Streep in Kramer versus Kramer, a film that in contemporary terms illustrates the failure of feminist theory to achieve anything worthwhile, other than to deploy females as case managers, Merkel epitomizing this, the most powerful case manager in Europe. Even in a made for television apocalypse like Testament, Jane is just a dutiful conduit, as opposed to inhabiting a character, dystopian rather than empowered, keeping a clean house in the mist of the American holocaust which arrived, bombarded us for weeks 18 years later, and then left, or transmuted into military action which killed untold thousands. The film is now 31 years old, nothing is resolved, survivalist series are a bummer, and there is no such thing as an appetizing post nuclear world in Hollywood because Orson Welles could not apply his directorial genius in Hiroshima.

If Testament lacks realism of a certain kind, ending on an appeal to memory of the human race, The Day After suffers from the same affect, however more clinical. How do we know we'd educate our surviving children using the skeletal remains of cats?

Yet Testament has its own radicalism: the Asian mentally retarded boy is always happy, even with Western civilization coming to an end. Perhaps this is a rebuttal in itself to Dawkins in his fight with Christianity about compassion for the disenfranchised. The bishops are liars too, however, since no one expends affluence on those with Downs Syndrome who aren't aborted. It becomes too much to carry without a change of pace. What I'm referring to here is a tweet by Bishop Kramer, rebutting the famous biologist for his controversial statement, which smacks of eugenics, but both men are guilty of sound bite polarization.

Abortion is an aggressive medical assault on femininity, with sometimes devastating impact on a woman's health, and the bishop doesn't address the economic expenditure involved in treating our most vulnerable human beings with dignity.

I hate writing for Examiner. I want to stop doing it, but as previously indicated, feel trapped.