Mood: don't ask
"Of whom much is given, much is expected."
Certain human beings achieve such a high degree of celebrity and fame and fortune that they each become a law unto themselves. But, in return for that status (and I am a firm believer in this), they make themselves into sacrificial lambs. That's the deal. In exchange for being worshipped, cock-sucked, slack-cut, and pawed over, they ought to be made to stand tall before the man and be burned alive, if necessary. That is to say, there is something of a natural law at work, for a price must be paid for being venerated and enriched beyond one's moral capacity by millions of strangers.
Certain human beings. A small number in any generation or culture. Elevated above the rest and observant of no rule but their own. Stand there and command what you may. Exploit it and live it out, baby. Make every dream a reality because you can.
But offend me and stink in my nostrils and I will want nothing but death from you. I will smash you like a graven image. I won't even piss on your rotten corpse for all I think of you. If you even try to make excuses or cry uncle or open your wallet, I swear I will think of ever more cruel and outrageous means to the end of your life. I will applaud your demise like a bad-ass drum solo well delivered.
All moral lepers be damned. No more freaks and fuck-ups. Don't bitch when the candle that burned twice as bright burned half as long. That's the deal. A small number of human beings in any given generation. Take it like a man or whatever the fuck you are: thou owest Nature a death.