Resisting The Urge To Gawk

We've all been there. Traffic ahead of us is stop-and-go, slowly winding around some unseen sight. As we creep up on the blockage, we see a twisted heap of metal that once resembled a car. And inside, a badly mangled and bloodied body that once resembled a living person. So what do we do? We slow down and take a long, hard look at the scene before moving on. It's a natural human tendency to gawk at hideous and obscene sights. For instance, we might never have the desire to see our friend's dick, but if he pulls it out at a party, we'll stare and laugh at it all night. There are countless websites making great money by attracting people with disgusting pictures and videos; they are the modern-day version of the freakshow. We like to be horrified, grossed-out, and bewildered. In some ways, this urge makes us lower on the evolutionary scale than animals. When an animal sees a dead creature, it freaks out or becomes sad; meanwhile, we crane our necks to get a better look at the brains on the pavement. This revolting aspect of human behavior has allowed tabloids to flourish in modern society. Every week is a new traffic accident: See Lindsay Lohan puke on the sidewalk!!!See Kiefer Sutherland get ass-raped by pandas!!See Princess Diana suffer through her death-rattle!!! The tabloids and their paparazzi reporters scour the lowest sewers of the entertainment industry, hoping to catch the next big bit of awfulness so they can make a buck. I've scraped substances from my taint that have more dignity, intelligence, and moral certitude than tabloids, yet they keep selling thanks to that inborn human desire to gawk at everything horrible and nasty in the world. With that in mind, I must admit that my stomach turned a little bit when I found myself gazing at a STAR magazine cover featuring the withered and very sickly visage of Patrick Swayze. No matter what we might hope for the actor, it's clear that he is rapidly losing his battle with pancreatic cancer. His once taut facial features appeared hollow, sunken, and drawn. In fact, it would have been difficult to recognize Swayze at all had it not been the giant bold-faced headline proclaiming, "Patrick Swayze's Sad Final Moments!" Mind you, the guy isn't even dead yet, and STAR is already attending the funeral. Frankly, I prefer to think of Swayze as the vibrant stud that saved Baby from the corner. But that's not the only one getting disrespected and abused in their final days. The beautiful Farrah Fawcett, who defined a generation of sexpots before redefining herself as a serious actress, is facing the end of a long battle with metastatic cancer. Rather than leave her alone to cope with her illness and fate, Fawcett is being hounded by photographers eager to get a pic of the actress coughing up bloody tumors onto her bed. I simply could not imagine dealing with a life-threatening illness - which is, in itself, a tremendous battle - without having the entire world salivating for a glimpse of me taking my last breath. It's repugnant. Maybe it's time to realize that we should be better than this. Swayze and Fawcett have earned their right to dignity and privacy by the sheer fact that they lived their lives just as everyone else must. In their lives, they gave of themselves for our entertainment; their suffering and deaths shouldn't be.