This video that J.R. Smith just uploaded to Instagram straddles the line between unsettling and hypnotic. There's no reason to watch it, really, and yet I've watched it at least a dozen times. It's about eight seconds of J.R. Smith's sparsely haired thighs and crotch jiggling from an electrical stimulus device, and some faint wailing or moaning at the very end.I started a new paragraph because there's really no natural transition here. I've spent the past five or so minutes staring blankly at my screen, looking at this—noticing things like the light reflected in the block knobs, the jacket or some other piece of clothing on the chair opposite J.R., and the jiggling, so much with the jiggling—and not a single real thought has passed through my mind. It is both upsetting and strangely therapeutic. Like "The Kramer," it sickens me, but I can't look away.