Automobile Pornography

Tonight I have to write a paper on the movie Crash by David Cronenberg. My fingers are so very cold. I am having trouble typing. My brain is also cold. I am going to defrost both my hands and my mind by writing on my blog.

After viewing Crash, I am reminded of a short story written by the illustrious science fiction writer Kilgore Trout, a fictitious character invented by Kurt Vonnegut. In his story, which was mostly published in sleazy dime porno mags during the 1960’s, a crew of human astronauts visit a far away planet on which a race of war torn people introduce the space adventurers to the hardest porno in the galaxy. The aliens of this distance world have ravaged their planet, killing all of the plants and animals. They are forced to eat petroleum products for sustenance. But they do have a thriving entertainment industry centered around the cinema. The aliens brag about how filthy and hardcore their pornography is, but the astronauts are skeptical--these aliens have not seen the raunchy porn of Earth. The aliens bet that their porn is far more intense, and invite the astronauts to the theater to see for themselves.
In the theater, the lights dim. The screen is dark but the speakers spill the sound of erotic moaning and groaning. The audience becomes fidgety in their seats. There is the sound of moist lips smacking, of heavy breathing, and biting. An image begins to slowly fade in on the screen. A family of four sit at a dinner table feasting on ripe vegetables and plump, crisp fruit. The father slowly carves the steaming turkey which dominates the center of the table. A close up shot, frames the juices of the turkey oozing out of the meat as the knife slices through flesh. The crowd moans. The family dog jumps up on the table and joins the orgy, lapping up saucers of milk and pumpkin pies. A quick cut to the man’s Adam’s apple shows it bobbing--up and down--up and down. The aliens are reduced to squirmy groaning bodies in a debilitating ecstasy. After the show the proud aliens inquire of the astronauts: that was the hardest pornography in the galaxy, was it not?

I love that story!

I imagine Crash to be a porno for cyborgs. Machines have become so intertwined with man that the line where man starts and and machines start is blurred, examining that blurry line can be sexually pleasurable. In my home town of Marysville, as I am sure is true with so many towns across the country, kids cruise the main street in their cars as a mating ritual. The sexier the car the sexier the driver. Girls in pink escorts, boys in lifted pick up trucks. The cars themselves are a sex symbol.

Somewhere, on a fantastical planet in my imagination, the cartoon cars from the Cheveron commercials, are all lined up at a drive in theater watching a maochistic porno of cars being demolished in a wrecking yard.