I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence
And so the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're goin' through

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Story Bone

Way back in the 18th Century, as modern medicine was just being formed into an actual study, there was a distinct need for cadavers. Lots of them. The people who supplied the cadavers, before there was a law specifying that the indigent would be used, were called Resurrectionists. While this could be an early for of title creep (garbage men are now Sanitation Engineers), that's an interesting little detail to add into a period story.

Just as a point of information, generally the bodies of the new buried poor were the ones supplied to the medical colleges. The law just bypassed the the burying and grave robbing part. Not that grave robbing didn't continue until the early 20th Century (and in some places still occurs).

"We're grave robbers, my son, a fine and glorious profession with a prestigious lineage." Oo yeah, I can see using that somewhere.

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