McNair & Co.

After having read one hagiography too many today while cruising the internet/blogosphere, I kind of let loose on Max Reddick's site today. My reaction had more to do with certain news outlets and sites salivating over his girlfriend's supposed beauty than anything Mr. Reddick wrote.

I looked up images of McNair's wife, and I gotta tell you, he was an idiot. I know hero's have feet of clay, they're human, susceptible to all sorts of fuckppery - blah, blah, and blah. Okay. Whatever. Can we just call what happened what it was: murder. This was not a love story. He picked her up at a Dave & Buster's after asking for her number. There are children who now fatherless because daddy couldn't keep it in his pants. Could have all been prevented. See there's this new procedure called D-I-V-O-R-C-E.

McNair did not shoot himself four times in the chest, shoot is mistress in the head, and hide the gun under her body. Now, if he was able to do all that - he's a bad mofo. People, come the eff on! This man had a gorgeous wife, and four children. He cheated on his wife with a just out of her teens waitress, and everyone is like, "Well, it could be murder-suicide, maybe that's what happened, but we don't know. Maybe she realized that he lied to her, or he and his wife were having problems, yet he decided to work on his marriage. Whatever happened, can we call it what it is?