But it's about like having a grandfather who was a NAZI, ya know?

Yeah, that has got to feel weird. I tend to think that almost any given person does good and evil and stuff in between -- the same man kisses his wife and encourages his son, then goes to guard a concentration camp, the same woman lovingly decks her daughter in a beautiful dress completed on time because she beat and terrified the slaves who sewed it -- but that rationalized equanimity wears thin when I contemplate stuff I know my family members have done that I profoundly disagree with. I can imagine a tiny bit of how you must feel, and it makes my skin itch inside.

I was going to finish up with something platitudinous about history and the future and so on, but I started laughing at myself.