It’s like that episode of Seinfeld where art collectors, an older couple were viewing a large portrait of Kramer,
“I sense great vulnerability. A man-child crying out for love. An innocent orphan in the post-modern world.”
“I see a parasite. A sexually depraved miscreant who is seeking only to gratify his basest and most immediate urges.”
“His struggle is man's struggle. He lifts my spirit.”
“He is a loathsome, offensive brute. Yet I can’t look away.”
“He transcends time and space.”
“He sickens me.”
“I love it.”
“Me too.”