I’ve only ever seen two dead bodies – those of my father-in-law and my father. Regardless of the emotional attachment, it’s always a sobering experience. I’m not a religious man (in fact, I’m as far from religious as you can get – anti-religion, if you like), so I don’t believe any part of a person survives past the point of death. My belief is that once you die, you’re done. You immediately stop being you and become, well… nothing.
But what about your shell? What about the husk you leave behind? What happens to that?
It’s a sensitive and often taboo subject, but it’s one journalist and writer MARY ROACH 
- human crash test dummies
- studying the process of decay
- what the bodies of the victims can tell inspectors after a crash
- the scientific search for the soul
- human head transplants…
…and it goes on. It sounds grotesque, I know, and Roach often writes with an unflinching eye, but she achieves something remarkable with this book: in talking about death and decay, she somehow leaves you feeling happier about life and your inevitable end. I originally picked this book up for research purposes (you think I make this stuff up? I’ll have you know the decay of my zombies is medically researched!), but by the end of a couple of chapters I was just along for the ride.
My dad died just under a year ago, and I was with him at the end. I’d had STIFF