I don't celebrate death. Ever since my father passed, I've become more sensitive to the suffering of others. I used to haphazardly wish death on people I didn't care for (you know, FOD) until someone close to me left my life forever.
So I can't be gleeful even over the passing of a man who held such reprehensible views. A man who seemed to suffer an absolute dearth of redeeming qualities. Surely, I realize, this man had people in his life who knew and considered the man as someone other than a racist, sexist, hateful fucker. Surely he did.
I've decided, instead, to be grateful over the extinguishing of hate.