"God knows we all have our little fetishes," said Dee O'Keeffe in the Dublin Herald. So it's sad that the world is consumed with speculation about actor David Carradine's sexual tastes because of the way he died—naked, in a Bangkok hotel-room wardrobe, with cords tied around his neck and genitals. Shame on the exes now sharing gossip about what one called Carradine's "deviant" sexual tastes—our "dark" fantasies should be allowed to die with us.
Things might not have gotten out of hand if a Thai newspaper hadn't "appallingly" published David Carradine's death photo, said Lynn Crosbie in the Toronto Globe & Mail. Carradine's family understandably wants to figure out what happened. But the rest of us should stop speculating about whether he committed suicide, or died in an act of autoerotic asphyxiation, or was murdered by a prostitute. It would be a grave injustice to remember Carradine, 72, not as a talented actor but as a "sad old freak."
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