The doe-eyed, full-lipped “kinda pretty but kinda plain” woman puts her hands up in front of her face. She’s in shock and disbelief. This could never happen to her. “And, it was at that moment that Sarah wondered if she’d live to see another day,” dramatic music, then boom a commercial about how you need to take medicine to poop better or how your life will be dramatically improved if only you bought this yellow couch and mid-century modern buffet.
And THAT in a nutshell is what I see every time I’m doing cardio.
Society is fascinated with dramatizations and re-enactments of murders. If the number of shows and podcasts dedicated to the topic are any measure, we’re obsessed. Which means that a lot of folks will try to capitalize.
This means there’s a giant variability in the “quality” of the shows. I remember scoffing loudly with Forehand while on the treadmills about some dramatized murder victim. She was bludgeoned in her garage next to her sensible sedan. Obviously, that would be horrible to scoff at. However, the fact that the actress’ knee pads were very visible in her fake death definitely deserved scoff. Someone(s) are profiting off the tragedy of others, but they don’t want get hurt in the process. Ironic.
I’m really not sure what the draw is. Maybe it’s just controlled fear or compassion for the victims and families. Maybe some folks like to watch as a cautionary tale. Maybe some as a reminder of how the decisions they made in the past could have had more dire consequences.
There’s often the scenes when the sensible parents or friends try to warn the future victim of their potential fate. I’m certain that every girl who has felt drawn to the bad boys has their own similar scene. That moment when their parents are trying to console them in the middle of the night after some incident, but also trying not to throttle her for the choices she’s making. In the shows, these parents are portrayed as put together and supportive, and if we’re being honest,…just a little better looking than their real life counterparts. They work hard to sell us on the emotion of the moments. The re-enacters are replaced with the actual loved ones of the decedent who understandably cry about the loss of their loved one. They express regret that they couldn’t have prevented it.
Cut to commercials where the messaging is that your life would be better if you remodeled your home into more of an open concept or if you bought the shirt for your man that is specifically designed to look good untucked. Then back to trauma voyeurism.
Sometimes the subtitles aren’t on the TV in front of the stair stepper. In those moments I have to make up my own stories. Luckily I’ve seen enough with the words to know the recipe: She grew up in a quiet town. She had a smile that lit up a room. She fell in love quickly with him. He showered her with attention and she felt like the only girl in world. She and he made “x” sacrifices to be together. He soon became jealous and possessive. She didn’t know how to break it off. Yadda yadda yadda,…she got murdered.
Capitalism feeds this machine. If Sarah’s murder didn’t generate views and subsequently increase sales of elderberry supplements, then the shows wouldn’t get made. But they do. And unfortunately, there is no shortage of tragic stories to tell.
But fortunately, there are other things that grab our attention and for which shows are made with the hopes of finding another way to get us to buy that elderberry supplement.
As a result, I don’t have to watch the murder shows. Sometimes I want whatever is the exact opposite of trauma voyeurism. I can always have Joe Rogan talk me through a hypothesis of what happened to the Lost City of Atlantis or maybe I can watch the new pro sport of Tag. (I’m not kidding a bit. The World Chase Tag show exists. F’n TAG!! It’s priceless). And for those options, I am truly grateful.
Thanks for reading!
Bifocals and Barbells 