Post mortem.

We're a forgiving bunch - sometimes.

It depends, of course, on our level of affection for what the offending person did and how much we're willing to absorb on a personal level to subsidize the nonsense they created in their personal lives.

We now hate Barry Bonds because we didn't much care for him to begin with. Most of us knew he was an obnoxious jackass and once the steroid allegations rolled out, we had vindication for our original feelings, and we let the hatred fly.

Sometimes we don't know what sort of a jackass someone was in life until they die. Then, the books and magazine articles start coming and we change our opinion from one of unconditional love to one of massive doubt. We still might like their work, but while we're involved in it we're thinking, "Man, that guy was a fucking weirdo."

I think we always knew that about Michael Jackson, but the thing that surprises me about the outpouring of love I'm seeing after his death is that the allegations weren't just oddities, they were downright criminal and perverse actions. Sleeping with boys and making large monetary settlements to parents whose children were (allegedly) molested by the "King of Pop."

As for me, I never was that big a fan of his work either. To me, it was more form than substance, but I come from an era of music where classically trained musicians made music and the form was the music. With him, it seemed all about the dancing and the show. In some cases, without the accompanying video or concert, the music was average. To me, that lessens the impact. The music should stand on its own. The fact that he was a clinically strange human merely vindicated my viewpoint. But my opinion seems to be in the minority these days.

I guess we liked his work so much that it didn't matter what kind of odd life he led. It's just lucky for him that he never got caught abusing animals.