There are some rare subsets of humanity out there, such as people
with AB-negative blood, people who can roll their tongues upside down, and necrophiliacs, but even in these select groups, Kristina Ehrenborg-Staffas is something of an oddity. She is the Swedish woman who was recently charged with “violating the peace of the deceased,” which, if you ask me, is over-delicate. It wasn’t the peace she violated. More the deceased themselves.
Broadly defined, necrophilia refers to the practice of sexual gratification with those who are well past the age of consent. If memory serves, this is not the first time I have mentioned it in this space, and I’m sorry to resurrect the subject, but it will not stay down. Am I especially drawn to these stories? Of corpse not. Hey: some people think Paul Ryan is sexy. I’m not here to judge.
Motivation runs the gamut. Some people do not like to talk during sex. Some people really don’t. Modern psychologists have identified ten varieties of necrophilia, but in the most common variety, the draw is that the object of desire doesn’t go away. One assumes that the practitioner usually has a problem with that.
Whatever the incentive, the practice has probably been around as long as people have. Officials in ancient Egypt took the precaution of letting the prettier dead women ripen for three or four days before handing them off to the embalmers, who were known to be a randy bunch. In other societies, it was thought noble to have sex with the corpses of virgins–a matter of solemn duty. Because their souls would never find peace otherwise. It was doing them a favor. Here we have an example of starting with a conclusion (“I would like to have sex with a virgin”) and then cooking up a justification. That’s another enduring human practice. Even today, people start with the conclusion (“I love money”) and work backwards until they have the rationale (“trickle-down theory”). The parallels with screwing the innocent are remarkable.
But in general, most people do look askance at the practice, which is reviled across most religions. “Thou shalt not have sex with dead people” is pretty much the missionary position. Even individuals with no religious affiliation usually believe that necrophiliacs come to a bad end.
So that’s why Sweden, an otherwise tolerant nation, has Ms. Ehrenborg-Staffas in custody. What makes her stand out, even among necrophiliacs, is that in her case the phrase “jumping someone’s bones” is not as metaphorical as we’d like it to be. When it comes to sex, normal people might reasonably disagree on whether it’s the meat or the motion. For your standard necrophiliac, it is definitely not the motion. For Ms. E-S, it isn’t even the meat. The object of her affections is a collection of skeletons, including five skulls and an entire spine. Many people are drawn to deep-set eyes and strong cheekbones, but still. It is suspected she arranged her bone collection in sexual situations. She had enough material in her possession to mount a plausible tableau with a UPS man and a pair of pool boys.
I have observed before that although I am fine with venerating the dead, I’m not that particular about venerating their remains. You all can make tomato cages out of mine if you want, because I will be through with them. And yet I do find this woman’s collection a little disturbing. I’ve searched my mind for places a person might score a human skeleton, and none of the possibilities is real appealing. And she has a whole set. What’s next?
If there’s anyone out there looking for a good piece of ash, I don’t want to know about it.
Imagine how flattered I am to have my picture included in the same post as shriveled-long-dead-mummified-hairy-guy! Makes me look positively youthful by comparison.
Not-yet-dead, moderately-hairy, tongue-rolled-under-which-is-a-useless-ability-woman.
Plus, you get to be on top!
You write about the most wonderful things. 🙂
"Thou shalt not have sex with dead people" is pretty much the missionary position.
That's gonna stick with me.
Well, they're words to live by. BTW, I love that someone (closish to) my generation has the name Pearl. I feel all floaty thinking of it.
My first wife used to "Play Dead," I guess that would be a turn on for a necraphiliac. I prefered my philiacs un necra'd.
And I guess that would be why you refer to her as your first wife.
Ah, yes. Doggy style sex. Husband sits up and begs. Wife rolls over and plays dead.
I genuflect before your genius. I'm willing to bet there's not another person in the world who's capable of using "rolling your tongue upside down" and "necrophilia" in the same post.
At least not in a (more-or-less) G-rated way… oooooh. Nasty mental image. Need brain bleach now.
Why have I never heard of brain bleach? I need that. Frequently.
In most instances, a boutique ale or good wine will work.Trust me, my brain is snow-white.
In that case I'm in excellent shape.
Exactly how do you venerate with the dead Ms. Murr.
B positive in Portland
So far, exactly the way I venerate everything else. I put them somewhere and then forget where I put them.
I can't decide if that dried up thing looks more like Arnold Schwarzenegger or Charlton Heston.
Ole was talking to his friend Sven and said, "I think Lena might be dead."
"What makes you think that, Ole?"
"Well, the sex is about the same, but the dishes are piling up."
THAT is what we needed here. An Ole and Lena joke! Thanks for your invaluable service to Murrmanity!
I wish I had waited until after lunch to read this, but it was pee-your-pants funny. (Not that I did, mind you)
Well by all means keep us informed, should things change. I think everyone here is interested in the state of your underwear. I know I am.
There once was a hermit named Dave who kept a dead whore in his cave. He said with a grin as he wiped off his chin, "Think of the money I save".
Even individuals with no religious affiliation usually believe that necrophiliacs come to a bad end. – if that wasn't intended as a double entendre, it should have been.
Hardly anything here is by accident…:)
And I really really do not want to know what Hermit Dave was wiping off his chin.
You are amazing….the only person in the world who can make musings on turds and corpses funny.
I would say, "Murr, you make me die laughing." but that would be in poor taste for this post, I think.
"Turd Musings" is what I'm going to call my next blog.
Hey. I hope I die laughing. And when I do, looks like there is still some potential for getting some action.
I cadaver serious problem with that. Fetishes in general are peculiarly individual, and incomprehensible to those who don't share them. This particular fetish is no exception. All I can say is, it's another good reason for cremation – no residual body to be dug up by a desperate necrophiliac.
I'm fine with it. I'm a little perturbed that I can't think up a fetish of my own. It would make things so special.
I would like to point out that your post arrived on my dashboard "late" today, and I assume that was no accident either?
Uh,…good things come to those who…uh…
My email notifications come a good fifteen hours late. Always. I don't know who's in charge, but if there are complaints to be fielded, I know it's not me.
Yes, where did she acquire those skeletons? I don't think I want to think about that too long.
Okay, even that long was too long.
Places a person might score a human skeleton: Medical school supply company? Craig's List? Estate sale? Second hand store?
Positioning skeletons in flagrante? But- you'd need to be a forensic specialist to see if that's an 80 year old caucasian male surmounted by two 18 year old Asian females. And if you can't tell, what's the point?
Count on Roxie to have worked out the logistics to things that wouldn't cross a normal person's mind.
Thank you. Most of the people in my head would be insulted if you called us normal.
I love you Roxie. All of you. Except that one.
That one really downs't give a rat's ass.
Hey, people are OK with eating animal corpses. Why draw the line at this?
Anyone interested in the topic of passions like those of Ms. Ehrenborg-Staffas should check out the Nekromantik films by German director Jörg Buttgereit (yes, that's his name). Liberal Europe is more accepting of this misunderstood and persecuted sexual minority, even if Sweden is apparently an exception.
Seriously, dude, you know way too much stuff. I'm honored to know you. And opinions expressed by the major religions of the world are not necessarily those of the management…
Brilliant post…..Oh…btw.I'm AB negative!xxxxx
Hey, so was my mom! They wouldn't even let her give blood just willy-nilly. They saved her for special occasions and sent out a taxi for her.
*whew* feel like I dodged a bullet here. Only A negative and my tongue resolutely refuses to become a tube. Dead normal.
Yeah. When we normal people try to tube up our tongues, they turn into little cucumbers.
I remember seeing a huge artistic setup of human remains made by some monks. Now I am searching my memory banks….were they positioned sexually? Were those monks-presumably celibate-doing the nasty with the bones?
Oh, Murr…..your posts brings an entirely fresh perspective to even the most gruesome and disgusting tourist site.
The famed ossuaries! I am completely smitten with those. Kinda sorta worked it into my novel, too.
Ah, yes, ossuaries…..Ms. Ehrenborg-Staffas's idea of Heaven, no doubt…..
Oh dear. Brain bleach needed here too (a small red bucket of it I think). Not only do you almost invariably make me laugh, you free me from the guilt that perhaps I ought to feel, since invariably twenty five other people have normalised laughing at the post before I get here. Sometimes late is good.
That's just what the necrophiliacs say.
No, no, no. They always say late is good – except when, like Ms Ehrenborg-Staffas, they say the later the better.
That is sick. I saw on television once that a woman had her husband's cremains (for those of you who do not know the term-he had been cremated) and she was eating them a little bit at a time! UGH!! It was her weird obsession. She said it made her feel closer to him. I do not see it that way. The only thing I could think is that she must of thought he was a real piece of shit. Now literally! ;^)
Too crunchy for my taste.
A quote from the book STIFF by Mary Roach:
"The way I see it, being dead is not terribly far from being on a cruise ship. Most of your time is spent lying on your back. The brain has shut down. The flesh begins to soften. Nothing much new happens, and nothing is expected of you."
Or being in a recliner. Touche.
This gave me the heebie geebies!!!
Give them back! I'll be needing them later!
Ewwww…is all I can summon at this time.
I don't know. I think the lack of flesh takes a lot of the Ewww out of it. Replacing it with a lot of huh?
I'm confused – was she simply setting up the skeletons in sexually suggestive positions (in which case she could have claimed it was Art) or was she indulging in sexual intercourse with them? And, uh, if the latter, I don't even understand how.
I am completely at a loss as well. They never give enough information in these news articles.
Bones seem to be more like fetish objects to me so the first thing I thought of was Oingo Boingo:
It's a dead man's party
Who could ask for more
Everybody's comin', leave your body at the door
Leave your body and soul at the door . . .
(Don't run away it's only me)
I guess you're going to make me find that and listen to it, aren't you?
You might just like it.
I do! Kinda reminds me of Devo tamed down.
Hmmmmmm…. I guess it takes all kinds to make this world go round.
For sure, tastes differ.
As someone once said: "I don't like necrophilia, it's dead boring. Unlike incest, which is only relatively boring."
Of course I had to go look up the case and also (igh) saw the photos. Ehrenborg-Staffas is actually the prosecutor n the case, not the necrophiliac. It's hard to imagine why you'd be attracted to a skeleton. This will probably show up in my nightmares tonight.