[madison10]

I will not look either. I know it is horrendous, I cannot DO anything about it. Me, who longed for children, and moans over road kill, will become physically ill at that sight.

[Mrs. Don-o]

It's the same phenomenon as Graveyard Humor or the macabre lyrics sung by WWI soldiers and airmen, who brutally murdered and fully expected to be brutally murdered:

The Bells of Hell go ting-a-ling-a-ling
For you but not for me:
For me the angels sing-a-ling-a-ling,
They've got the goods for me.

Oh! Death,
Where is thy sting-a-ling-a-ling?
Oh! Grave, thy victory?
The Bells of Hell go ting-a-ling-a-ling
For you but not for me.

When the subject is too repulsive to face unblinkingly, one gives a roguish wink, a hopping dance, and a cheery tuneful chirp.

Here's what it means: You laugh, and when the laughing stops, you die.