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O.J. SimpsonThe Juice is Loose
When celebrity and former football superstar O.J. Simpson took to the freeways in his white bronco on June 17, 1994, any criminologist will tell you that it was the unmistakable behavior of an innocent man. Textbook, really. Psychologists have learned that multihour car chases are just part of the natural grieving process. Atypical, certainly, but natural nonetheless. So he had a handgun. So he threatened to commit suicide if the cops wouldn't back off. It's all normal.
You'd feel the same way if it were your ex-wife who got brutally murdered, along with her boyfriend. The mother of your children, the woman you committed felony spousal abuse against. No doubt you would have lingering feelings of guilt and self-recrimination. You'd probably feel suicidal in his shoes. That doesn't mean you killed her. Nuh-uh. No way.
Haven't you ever heard of circumstantial evidence? Doesn't prove shit. The cops framed him. O.J. is black, don't you know. And if there's anything the LAPD hates more than black people, it's rich black celebrities. So let's all just give the man a break. He's still picking up the pieces. A lot of men deal with their emotions by playing golf, all right? It's part of the healing process. Poor guy.
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At this point you might be quibbling: "But what about the shoeprints? What about O.J.'s injuries? What about all the fucking blood?"