Anti-choice is a killer for me. That’s “I don’t want to be associated with you remotely” tier for me personally and I’m not making apologies for it. (Note: I live under a rock in a box in a cave at the bottom of a hole I dug in the Marianas Trench and this is the first I heard of this Pyle dude at all.)
But I reserve “and fuck your fans too” for Nazis, pedos, terfs, collaborators and other horrid scum without evidence, and any sort of sexual harassment with evidence. That’s the line I draw. Some people can look past some shittiness, and some levels of shittiness don’t rise to the point where being able to look past them means you’re inevitably mired in them. Most levels, in fact.
And hell, there’s even just “I have emotional investment and there’s no legit evidence, so I’m going to let it slide for now”. I do that myself. Sometimes there’s not enough for me to say “fuck this” to the things I love yet. I’m prepared, I’m capable, but for a certain amount of love for some things, I need a certain amount of leverage to pry me loose from it first.
Short of trying to hang on to R. Kelly or Burzum or some other awful, terrible, eternally tainted fecal matter, these are things that people should be forgiven for, even if you can’t forgive the public figures that those people enjoy, I think.