All right, I was just on a Mary Morstan blog and got a nice eyeful of someone saying, "What? You like a psychotic assassin? Wow, you're bad and you should feel really guilty about that."
Ha. Ha. Ha.
Fuck. That. Noise.
First, if that's happened to you, please understand you've been stupidly disrespected. That person's a stranger and doesn't know jack shit about you. Nothing. Nada. Zip.
Second, you like a fictional character. That's all. A person who is not real. A person who has not actually assassinated anyone. So guess what? A miracle's occurred! You have not and do not in real life condone assassination! What a concept!
Here's what you do do and the thing for which you should never feel guilty: You quite like the actor who portrays the highly-capable assassin. Just like some people like a pretty Scandinavian who plays a cannibal, a skinny Rebel fighter-hero who kills his informant, or an ex-army doctor who shoots unarmed cabbies through the heart instead of putting a bullet through a window.
In other words everyone likes some sort of "bad" character, or good ones who do lethally bad things. Everyone.
In addition to that, here's another miracle: It's none of this stranger's business what you like. Not now, not ever, not for one second of your life do you need to give their hatred—the only true bad thing in the room—a moment of your mental time.
Nor do you need to acknowledge their viewpoint or engage them, because they feed like vultures on sadness, fear, and misery. Yours.
Starve them.
Love what you love. Be kind to real humans. Relish the dark characters who excite you. Don't justify it. There will always, always, a.l.w.a.y.s. be someone who hates what you love.
So what?
So the fuck what?