As for the post-mortem of the accident itself - it was actually mostly my own damn fault.
Primary causes: Following too closely (though not tailgating), failure to leave
or create an escape route at all times.
Secondary causes: Vehicle attempting to merge into lane, idiot rubbernecker at head of line of traffic in lane decided to hammer his brakes to gawk at a prior accident already cleared to the side of the road causing everyone behind him to panic stop, shitty pavement.
I was riding on Interstate 635 during the early part of the evening rush hour, about 1630 local time. I'm in the fast or left-most main lane in the usual bumper-to-bumper stop-and-go traffic, doing about 45 and going with the flow of cars. I was behind a first-gen Honda Odyssey at the time, with an adequate space cushion and an empty HOV lane to my left. I crested a hill and traffic starts slowing down a bit, so I let off the throttle and let the space cushion decrease a little, figuring I'd be able to make the cushion back up in a moment.
Just at that moment, some dumbass in a black Chevy Silverado in the lane to my right decides to start merging into me without looking. I see this in my peripheral vision, glance over for a split second to note that he's stopped his merge, notice
something coming up fast in front of me in my peripheral vision, look back forward to see the Honda Odyssey and all the cars in front of it have panic stopped because some idiot ten cars up in the lane had slammed on his brakes hard because they wanted to gawk at a previous accident already cleared to the side of the road. I couldn't see through the Honda so at the time so I had no idea why everyone had stopped - I was told this afterwards.
At this point, I instantly realized several things.
1. I'd fucked up and not maintained my space cushion.
2. There was a Prius and the divider barriers to the HOV lane to my left/left front and the Silverado to my right. I didn't have a good escape route any more.
3. This was going to suck. And probably hurt. A lot.
I decided to try to thread the needle and split the difference (and lane space) between the Odyssey and the Silverado. I hammered both brakes and aimed to the right of the Odyssey. Unfortunately, I then crossed one of the basically polished grooved pavement slabs that sometimes makes up part of the surface of I-635 and completely lost traction. Once the tires crossed the slab and got on a surface with traction again, the front end tucked and the bike went down on its left side, slamming itself and (since I was still on it) me into the pavement with a forward velocity of about 30-35mph. Yup, highside onto pavement.
The bike and I slid forward about five meters and my head and torso ended up under the van. Didn't lose consciousness, didn't actually hit my head though I did abrade a bit off the helmet getting out from under. I had actually stayed with the bike until the very end of the slide when I partially separated from it and got rolled by friction onto my back and right side. End result was my left leg from the knee down was still under the bike, I'd gotten a really good look at the Draw-Tite hitch installation on the Odyssey and (as it turned out) nothing hard actually made contact with the van. Pulled myself out from under the van, pushed my torso up and waited for my diaphragm to relax so I could catch a breath. The rest is as related above - people stopped, shut down traffic, helped me right the bike, checked that I was okay, etc. Once we got the bike righted and it cranked back up, several people gave me cover with their vehicles while I slowly rode it off the freeway to the nearest exit.
Moral of story: ALWAYS enforce your space cushion even if the party behind you gets mad and honks at you. ALWAYS try to make sure you have an escape route. As I have recently been forcibly reminded, pavement is very hard and hurts a lot when you get body slammed into it at speed. You may wish to avoid having your own personal experience of this.
Edit: Oh, forgot to mention. The personnel at the hospital emergency room were shocked when I walked in later on that evening. Usually, the bike crash victims they see come in unconscious on a gurney and resemble hamburger or calamari. Not some guy who calmly walks in, is in good humor if some pain and is cracking jokes. The looks on their faces when they learned that I hadn't done something like fall off a ladder but instead had crashed a motorcycle were priceless.