Some fears are obvious and visible.

A dark cobweb-covered basement, an old axe propped up in the corner of the garage with

something red along its edge that may be rust or something else.

Many fears, you see, can be documented, even photographed.

But others can't.

Some fears are like the wind.

The only proof it exists is in the way it affects other things, that cool feeling on your

skin.

The way the leaves and the trees sway back and forth.

And just like the wind, there are fears that we can only point out, thanks to their effects.

One of the best places to feel that breeze, so to speak, is Hollywood.

The stories that entertain us the most seem to tap into the deep unseen fears that we all

struggle with.

It's like touching the tip of your tongue to a 9-volt battery.

You hate the sensation, but there's something disturbingly attractive about it as well.

One of the biggest themes to come out of Hollywood over the past few decades, by far, has

been one of isolation, loss, and disaster.

Films like I am Legend, an alien, dip into this pool, as do small screen shows like the

Walking Dead and Battle Stark Galactica.

We're obsessed with the idea, we fear it, but we also love it, because the questions

feel important.

What would happen if humanity were reduced to a tiny population, left on the brink of

...