There were half-a-dozen trolleys in the lab. One had a couple of arms and a few more shoulders after various degrees of dissection so that we could see the different muscles in different layers. Another had legs all the way up to the waist; another torsos with hearts that had bits of the wall cut out so you could poke your fingers into the different chambers; another had brains — nothing else, just brains.
I guess I should have expected it had I thought about things at all beforehand but the muscles on the bodies themselves looked just like any other meat straight off the cow or the lamb. I can't say what I was expecting; perhaps because the human body is ‘special’ in some sort of speciesist Great Chain of Being-style we-are-at-the-top-of-the-heap way. In the lazy kind of thinking I happily indulge in, I suppose I assumed that it would somehow be different.
Why is it that the thought of eating human flesh is so repugnant. I am certainly not advocating it: the thought revolts me but I'm just asking why? A morning looking at body parts for civilians like me is a little bit of an odd way to spend time and does leave a lad thinking about wierd things like this.
I could try to lighten the tone of this post with jokes about carrying bits up to the north tower in a lightning storm with my assistant Igor and so on. Yadda yadda yadda. Frankenstein. “Give my creation life” etc but I'm just not in the mood after today, really.