That is what the headline of my newspaper would read today, if in fact, I owned a newspaper. Which I should!
And yes, that did actually happen to me while I was walking in the Village the other day. There was a body grotesquely articulated on the ground amongst a scene of ambulance horror, and some dude raised his phone in the air and took a picture of it. For what? So he could show his friends how demented he is? So that no one would doubt that he was, in fact, the biggest douchebag on the planet?
I contemplated confronting him, then decided it wasn't worth the trouble. There was a huge mob of people around the scene. I don't know about you, but I find it a little strange to stand there and stare at a mortally injured body. I really, really wanted to- but it skeeved me out too much to stand there for more than five seconds. What is it about accidents and violent mishappenings that hypnotizes people so completely? The projection of ourselves in the situation? The anomolous terror of it all? The shock value?
And why, why, why do I always have to bring everything back to BDSM (because I'm a pervert) but- car crashes are a fetish. Remember that lip-stretching yawn of a movie, Crash, with James Spader and Holly Hunter (*cough* no chemistry *cough*)? It is beyond me how you can make a movie about car crash fetishists into a grade A nap-inducer, but somehow Hollywood managed to pull it off. The opening scene with the panties and the sex against a car (or for some reason, I'm remembering an airplane was involved) was terrifically, scorchingly hot. Woo! I get squishy thinking about that. Don't bother to see it if you haven't already. It was made in the mid 90's, so it's about as shocking as seeing Britney Spears' pussy at this point. It's overdone.
Anyway- the movie seems to imply that the fetish goes beyond the simple shocking incident and aftermath and bridges over into a fetish for immobilization, re: casts, wheelchairs, and permanent handicaps. If the fetish actually exists, how are we to find out where the people who engage it are? They don't need their own porn sites, as there are plenty of pictures of car crashes on the internet!
The only evidence I have that this might be a legitimate fetish (and not fairytale) is a small statement from an artist called Romain Slocombe. He is known for his contributions to a genre of art called, Medical Art, and his pictures of Japanese women in various states of immobility are quite famous. From Deviant Desires:
"Slocombe remembers being quite terrified of car accidents as a child. At the same time, he felt that people who had been in an accident had a special erotic aura around them."
This only implies that these fetishes are related, but not conclusive of anything. If anyone has any insight into this subject, please don't hesitate to contribute. Is this a true fetish, or something that has been Hollywood-ized into the annals of urban myth? We might never know.
Oh, and totally off topic-
For those who call me instead of emailing me as it says on my website to book a session: Use email. Trust me, you won't be disappointed. When someone calls me when I'm not expecting it I do a little dance to the ringtone. Seriously. It's like a Curtis Mayfield R&B jam with horns. It's really nice. I get down to it's funky beat.