The world is absolutely on fire right now. We feel dumb talking about our petty problems, and, frankly, we should. Yet in our private, off-line worlds we will seek entertainment as relief because we are human and this is how humans behave. To that end, I recommend seeing the new “Ghostbusters” this weekend. My reason is actually political, as I do not think this CGI-addled, badly paced film is worthy of its very fine cast, though the irresistible Kate McKinnon is like a hilarious silent movie unto herself, and Leslie Jones wisecracks with the best of them. (I blame its failings on writer/director Paul Feig, the kind of affable white dude who keeps “failing up” despite his string of unfunny comedies.) My reason is this is one of the first all-female comedies ever bankrolled by a major studio, and big grosses on an opening weekend will mean that other all-female projects will be bankrolled in the future. More than almost ever, paying to see this Hollywood movie will be an act of activism—one you can commit while eating fatty, sugary foods and sitting on your ass in a climate-controlled environment. So go. I ain’t afraid of no ghost but I am terrified of cockocracies.