(THIS ARTICLE IS MACHINE TRANSLATED by Google from Norwegian)
It is becoming socially accepted to photograph or film people with visible social deviations. Drunk, overweight, sex offenders, people in weird clothes, people who have tryna. To freak shows online, for the frog instinct in us.
I even clicked through such websites the times they appeared in the news story on Facebook. But now I have the end. It has suddenly become personal. The other day I was at Tusenfryd, and a banal insight went in: The object of the film or image could easily have been me. I could have been the person they filmed. The person who lost control of the roller coaster, who stuck and screamed – after the tour was complete. Let me explain.
I've always hated carousels and roller coasters. The memories of amusement parks and amusements when I was young myself are a kind of diffuse porridge of discomfort. My congenital spinal cord injury with neurological sequelae makes fast and jerky movements very unpleasant and potentially dangerous.
I tried some of the attractions when I was a kid, but I consistently ended up with pain and discomfort, and subsequent anxiety. That most people at all could like such hell machines was an alienating fact. What I didn't think at the time is that these people are mostly functionally healthy. It was – and is – not me.
Limits. If you have a body that is affected by chronic, physiological damage, this often leads to unclear margins between the tolerable and the intolerable. In a chronic patient, the ability of the central nervous system to tell about pain, dizziness or discomfort is affected by chronic stress. In parallel, many chroniclers experience the consequences of stepping across the body's boundaries as tougher than healthy ones do.
It was filmed and taken pictures, as if it were a zoo they were in.
The interpretation and management of chronic disorders are individual, but also situational. Some experiences can be pleasurable, while similar experiences – where only a few individual factors are different – are perceived as unpleasant. Furthermore, the limits of what can be tolerated by challenges, wear, resistance, discomfort or pain can change from day to day.
These complex body experiences are the reason why many of us chroniclers end up on the side of organized working life. And these experiences of the body are the reason why amusement parks and amusement parks are a difficult exercise for many of us. The attractions are designed for healthy users to push their limits in a hunt for dizzying neurological stimuli. But people's boundaries are different, and sometimes it can be difficult to decide in advance whether the attraction will be a good experience or not.
Binoculars. A friend of mine loves roller coasters, his daughter is aged where fun fairs appear as fun, and together with a fourth person we went on a trip to Tusenfryd. The other three took the park's roller coaster in wood, "Thunder Coaster". I was standing on the ground, in the rain. Rainy weather causes the wood and metal on the "Thunder Coaster" to change texture. G-forces and gravity work differently than when the material is dry, and the path goes faster than usual.
The employees avoided filling up the carriages, to make the carriages lighter and the attraction slower. They drove the carriages up the first hill at a very slow speed, all in order for the attraction to maintain a proper speed. Still, the trip went extremely fast, according to my friends, who have both ridden "Thunder Coaster" before. One of them became nauseous, the other had a sore back, and the daughter had a sore ear. All three experienced unexpected discomfort because the attraction in the rainy weather was perceived as tougher than expected. Since all three are healthy, it went well anyway.
A visitor who did not cope with the "Thunder Coaster" that day, responded to the experience of screaming and holding on to the carriage after it was down again. I do not know the person who screamed, but I know all too well the reaction the screams were the result of. The park staff handled the case professionally, and the person was helped out, after screaming for a long time. The park made no mistake, nor did those who possibly followed the howling person. One person was overwhelmed and reacted by howling and holding on. This is what happens. Nothing to cling to. But people did.
An ever-growing crowd of spectators came and glared. The mouths were wide open, as if they wanted to sense the experience through the mouth as well. And up came the camera phones. It was filmed and pictures were taken, as if it were a zoo they were in. The person who sat there howling and holding on was documented in easily divisible digital files. Maybe it appears on a website near you.
Everything that happened in the park that day, including a person twisting, is completely normal. The fact that greedy binoculars lined up with cameras is unfortunately also becoming normal. Although it is never so perverse, sick and disgusting.
It is a human right to lose control in public in peace. Then turn off the damn mobile cameras!
Hatterud is a cultural writer and regular columnist in Ny Tid.
megaeldar@hotmail.com
