Blood and Gore

At the gym today, I was mulling over some people I know who seem to take great pleasure in regaling me with other individuals' pain and distress.

Specifically, I'm speaking of those folks who cannot simply tell me, "So-and-so passed away," but feel the need to tell me (in gory detail) about how his nose bled right after he kicked the bucket or he fouled himself and the smell permeated the air or his face was contorted in agony and scared even the paramedics. Enough already! I get the picture!

And I am not aiming this at my dear friends with whom sharing some horrific details might be acceptable in an "I have to talk with someone about this" way. I'm speaking about those people I barely know who feel compelled to be... well... unnecessarily detailed about gory subject matters.

What causes this need to pick over others' misery or to describe the ugliness of a moment? Is it an avoidance of one's own problems? Or could it be something else, something deeper, something disturbing that's buried in our human psyche?

I wonder.