Neural Net Diversity and Accidental Contact with Malodorous Waste on the Sole

"Please don't leave me," -- Emmett J. Scanlan , ghastly impregnator

Oftentimes, I do wish I could bring disabled performers into this account. I have been made aware, for instance, of how Aneesh Chaganty deploys Kiera Allen in Run, who is reputedly a wheelchair user herself, and in this sense, I do not necessarily feel that Jason Dorwart’s forcefulness doesn’t yield positive results, particularly in his spat with Bryan Cranston of Breaking Bad. For a reminder, Cranston starred in an American remake, The Upside, about the manufactured survival of a quadriplegic and his African baggage handler. In the French original, the baggage handler actually was an African character, who finds his lesser equivalent in Kevin Hart playing off of Cranston’s vitality. The controversy swirled around representation, and I said the same thing to Jay Gertz, years before this disability script was conceived, that Jason wrote in his Denver column after the fact: Hollywood professionals utilize our lives and leave us behind, with notable exceptions. If you are a conservative, or a Parler user with raucous diction, or even a libertarian pulpit thumper, where is my divergence with Dr. Dorwart and his ejaculation and ham sandwich humor?

Essentially, it is about the reality of limits and liability. The film industry is in essence still an industry, and there are risks to putting physically frail people onscreen. Not all of those frail individuals can transcend empowerment therapy and make it art, like Vincent Price, who fainted from emphysema in passing the stardom torch to Depp in Burton’s esoteric fable. Scissorhands was the beloved suspense actor’s final film role, and as I wrote before Dorwart blocked me, to my regret (just because I renounce IL doesn’t mean I don’t miss those who don’t), the logistics of viewing smaller productions as when Jason recommended Tribe of Fools to me in 2018 was difficult in 2018. Heading into 2021, it is virtually impossible for me to assist such peers without making use of Zoom. Who or what are they, this tribe? Jason, after passing me to his wife's account like an abused housecat, will never bother to relent. The wife blocked me after following me too. I merely challenged her with a question. Her husband disavowed me, in the familial sense of shared experience, so what made her follow me? No answer, merely the ever invigorating dynamic of death by social cut, albeit digital in nature. Some couple, so much fragile psychology, a mere visiting assistant professor,  carefully categorized after the Gibson's landmark victory, engaged in exactly the same contracultural segregation the technocracy sees as valid. Thus it follows my own expansive rationale with video, and its gluttony. Instead of once again climbing the rungs in voluble physiological distress to save my thin oeuvre of equally spartan lifelines, I discovered terrible B megalodon movies with such abstract composites of  UN bureaucratic obsessives that the shark seemed possessed of military genius, then punished myself with this incestuous horror gem.  I will give Scanlan and his supporting female actor credit for one thing. They manage to convey sibling rivalry like a blown fuse, which despite disgust, was nevertheless titillating, but what was the point? Kellee wants to assure the second sex will endure male loathing into perpetuity? Three years, two hard drive failures, one drunk computer technician stopping short of propositioning me, one Quantum Edge crushing me in spinal pressure, and my dog-tied janitor who thinks I understand what he means by Saturn is in your twelfth house. And I expected to put life and legacy back together.