My obsession with domestic accidents, with injuries caused in the home. That's what I search for on the internet in dead hours, isn't it? For photographs of head injuries caused by falls on linoleum. For accounts of paralyses brought about by trips and stumbles. For medical descriptions of electrocutions and hanging accidents; for pictures of burns and bruisings … For domestic accidents and, indeed, all kinds of accidents.
Is it to remind myself of my own fragility, my own clumsinesses? Is it from concern for the poor victims, the maimed, the injured? Or is it, as W. expects, some kind of grotesque schadenfreude, a kind of revelling that I continue to survive, despite everything?
Lars Iyer's Blog 