Although from the ceepy skeleton with a red tag and catch phrase " On the Trail of the World's Organ Brokers, Bone Thieves, Blood Farmers, and Child Traffickers." This macabre book did not turn me away. As a kid I knew death when I was seven. I knew death when in a church my family was in the pews, and the ghostly pale and manicured face of my grandpa was no longer breathing, but in a slumber I was told he would not awaken from. The thought probably didn't really register with me until at his grave, the hole in the ground, and the music of my cousnin's violin . I couldn't help but forget everything. Until I had witnessed death, I didn't really belive that people around me could instantly vanish out of my life.
Maybe it was the reruns of fear factor, my facination with urban legends, or the fact that we are constantly reminded of it. But for a while it seemed that deaths had followed me everywhere. No more I would see the grandma, grandpa, great aunt, cousin, that I had known. The dramatic that I was, I made sure we buried each of our hampsters in a shoe box . (side note; all of them had Jack in their name; Jack- o- lantern, blackjack, and flapjack). Yes there was no life in them but there was still "them". The "it" of them is somewhere in this earth/
For Scott Carney his quest seems as though he wants to bring justice to death, and investigate exactly how different people, cultures, and corporations treat death, and somehow profit off of it. As any slightly educated person knows, economics is most often based on supply and demand. When the life, and soul is gone some respect it , and others would rather have it be handled with their beliefs ( hence a living will/ dying requests). As I read on the questions flowing in my mind are what will I do when I die? or who will do what to me? For some of the people in the book they must go to extremes to get what they need to survive, for some that's giving up an organ, and for some its buying one.
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