During the 18th century, the Bethlehem Hospital for the Lunatic in London used to charge the public a penny to come in and watch the lunatics. They were allowed, if not openly encouraged, to fling fruit and abuse at them. (I'll let you decide which side flung and which was flung at.) The doctors considered that a little dose of reality might help drive the madness from their charges since cold baths, purges and emetics had sadly failed. It also helped raise a little needed cash for this well-meaning if slightly deranged institution.
This tidbit is incidental but was brought to mind by the current if unwitting competition between the "much-loved" Sheila and the delightfully "scorned and scornful" Parker (The Iconista's "qualifying" adjectives refer to their Comments Section respectively, and she finds she has much more respect for Parker's silent majority than Sheila's noisily sycophantic chorus. I mean, why bother commenting "Terrific, and wonderful choice of movies" or "I totally AGREE"? Life is too short but clearly, for Sheila's darlings, it is not short enough.)
But Iconista digresses. Both Sheil and Parky have highlighted mad women in the movies this week. Bless. And I think they have touched only the tip of the iceberg. Judging by the vast array of film-based data, most women are hanging on to reality by a thread. Thank God for the calm sanity of men.
Here's my twopenneth (that's two visits to Bedlam squandered. I hope you're grateful.)