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3.4 Forensics are Fun?

Before beginning my discussion of forensic scientists and coroners I want to make a point about my focus in the following section. First I am not talking about criminal investigators, those people who desire the formulation of a subject of crime. I am deliberately not talking about them even though they are the investigators who discover/uncover/create (I prefer the last term) the subjects who cause death and hence perhaps the subjects who desire death most. Though that may have been a useful angle to take, it is fraught with the hazards and the very repression I have previously accused the psychoanalytic and philosophic discourses of producing. That is, the criminologist is simply another version of the male hysteric who represses the body in order to uncover a phantasy of consciousness. At the death scene the criminologist is s/he who looks for who the killer is, who the accident perpetrator is, and who the deceased was/is. The flesh of the deceased remains in the realm of the repressed and because the criminologist continues a narrative structure around the deceased post-mortem - the deceased’s last actions, people they knew, places they went - the death itself seems to be repressed as if the flesh never stopped moving. Although the criminologist is processual in practice – (s)he travels backward (pathology/history) and forward (psychiatry/neuro-pathology) in time to simultaneously explain and prevent crime [51] – (s)he is another form of inorganic scientist. The reason I felt the need to point this out is largely inspired by an article by Stephen Pfohl and Avery Gordon entitled ‘Criminological Displacements: A Sociological Deconstruction.’ [52] In this piece the authors aim to locate the pleasure to be found in criminology, exactly as I query the pleasure to be found in forensic pathology. The three pleasures of criminology that Pfohl and Gordon explicate are: Sadism - the excavation of the potential criminal with violence and exerted power; Surveillance - the gaze of the law upon the subject (object) of suspicion; The truth of the normal subject, Himself - the insurmountable divide between he who identifies crime and ‘the criminal’. The criminologist, using corporeal violence, locates and excavates ‘the criminal’ and “he rights, he writes, he rites - three rights and nothing left: the rights of man, the writing of a science and the ritual construction of an imperial order.” [53]

The criminologist is embedded in a science of subjectivities and linguistic power, his pleasure is unavailable without the distance between the subjectivities he studies and himself, which is far removed from the forensic pathologist and the anti/non-subjectivities he dissects. There is certainly power implicit in the minute dissection of a body to be read by a forensic pathologist, but it is not the implementation of a phantasmatically truthful structure of subjectivity gone awry versus subjectivity at a level of normality. Criminology resembles psychiatry and a therapy of deviant behavior more than forensics despite its close narrative relationship to the latter. Its narratives speak value and power through creating subjects. The most important feature of the criminal subject is that s/he is not like the subject who creates him/her. It is harder to judge a corpse than a person. The forensic pathologist is interested in the flesh and only in the flesh. All power structures found in the reading of the flesh are passed on to legal or criminal theorists and prosecutors. The power of the forensic scientist is a very tangible and visible power but it is always tainted and tinged with the fact that what the forensic scientist structures his language and modes of power around is a non-subject, a flesh text. So the forensic scientists’ pleasure could be sadism, surveillance and it is always necessarily juxtaposing himself, the normal (living) subject with the non-subject in front of him, but the fact lies still at his hands, a corpse. A corpse is not a subject to manipulate, to create as deviant. The forensic pathologist de-creates a body and re-creates its habits, but at the most carnal level I wish to question where the pleasure of the flesh of forensics lies, and here is where I hope to analyze the idea of the forensic scientist as sanctioned pervert.

Philosophy represses the immanence of death by articulating consciousness around the corpse, around the body, never through, in or even near it. Forensics, however, reads death only through the corpse. This makes the reader wonder if the forensic pathologist represses the memory of life ever being within the corpse at all, especially the individuality of each corpse that Lingis points out is the drive behind the concept that all other subjectivities are not ‘me’ and hence not tangible. In the comprehensive volume Forensic Pathology by Bernard Knight, the text is introduced by a preface. It reads

The subject matter of this volume... is solely concerned with the examination of the dead body for medico-legal purposes. The subject matter follows a fairly conventional pattern, but the treatment of each topic is designed to offer practical advice... that leads the doctor to analyze and question the interpretations drawn from physical findings. [54]

What follows is a series of lists useful for the pathologist, from the procedure to follow at the scene of the death, to the equipment “ready to take to a scene of investigation at a moment’s notice. Most forensic pathologists have a ‘murder bag’ in their car and though every expert has his own choice of equipment, the following is a reasonable inventory:

1. Waterproof apron and rubber gloves

... 3. Autopsy dissection set, including hand-saw

... 7. Plastic bags, envelopes, paper, spare pen (!) and pencil... [My exclamation] ” [55]

A half-page, black and white photograph of the scene of a rape homicide tops this list. A woman (corpse, body, woman-no-longer?) lies (has been left? - verbs become defunct when talking about ‘a body’ when it is no longer flesh associated with consciousness) almost naked by a road. Her (its) head is severely battered and slashed, yet is facing back away from the torso almost looking at the camera. This inclusion of such an horrifying image atop the casually worded list of ‘death bag’ equipment is a shock to the non-forensic reader. The body becomes another form of ‘death bag’, a bag of information to be opened and rifled through before being discarded. The excruciating absence of the body, either dead or alive, in philosophical discourse on being and non-being, is matched in effect by this absolute ‘body’ surmounting a list of objects used to further objectify the body by reading it as text rather than subject. There is, of course, no reason for subjectivity to figure in this book because of the nature of its task, however the absence of subjectivity nonetheless brings to light the horror culture (except forensic pathologists perhaps) invests in the dead body. The body is violently negated, because traditionally it is the most empty, abject and capital-ly useless object. To admit the most useless of all objects was once subject creates a need to either keep the body (an actual pathology, a form of necrophilia which will be explained further on) or simply to deny its existence, which means denying its image and its material being as corpse. The ‘use’ of the body by a forensic pathologist forces the need to discard into question, without re-investing the body with its former subjectivity, which is why the result is a feeling of horror from non-forensic witnesses.

The forensic image and its absence of subject also elucidate the difficulty in ascertaining what exactly death is. What defines it in flesh from living flesh and the subject-memory within the flesh, most especially in the stagnant frozen images of photography, where fakery, death and life are almost indivisible?

Between the bodiless state of being and un-being in philosophy and the pure-body-as-evidence, as fact-of-event state of forensics, there lies subjectivity which is contained within and because of a body. Neither forensics, which pieces together the narrative of the cause of death and events leading to it, nor philosophy, which attempts to posit the self around death, before it and in a negative/absence construction, after it, seem interested in what death is made of and what it makes us. Unconsciousness condemned to eternal nothingness is the mind of death, while the declaration of an individual as brain dead is the body of death. What becomes clear is that any definition of death is more slippery than its irreversible result would suggest. No subjectivity can say from the ‘inside’ [56] (i.e. being and consciousness) when death exists, and this quote from DiMaio and DiMaio proves that even the death of the body from the outside is a matter for bureaucracy and not medicine.

An individual may be pronounced dead, yet may be maintained on a life support system for two to three days after pronouncement. This has sometimes resulted in confusion in the documentation of the date of death. This is more a problem of bureaucracy than science, however. [57]

According to medico-legal discourse, death exists at the point of time that the coroner pronounces death. [58] Subjectivity cannot speak of its demise; the coroner must speak for it, which means death becomes a delayed pronunciation from the mouth of another rather than an event in and ceasing the life of the self.

Bodies in some ways stay ‘alive’ after pronunciation of death. Knight, in explaining the indications of pathophysiological death gives three main signs:

a.) Unconsciousness and loss of all reflexes occurs, and there is no reaction to painful stimuli. Rarely, there may be post-mortem co-ordinated muscle group activity for up to one hour after death, possibly due to surviving cells in the spinal cord.

b.) Muscular flaccidity occurs immediately upon failure of cerebral and cerebella function. All muscle tone is lost, though muscles are physically capable of contraction for many hours.

c.) Eye signs include loss of the corneal and light reflexes leading to insensitive corneas and fixed, unreactive pupils. Though the iris responds to chemical stimulation for hours after somatic death...(my italics) [59]

The body ignores the ‘death’ of the subject by corporeally performing for some time after the subject is pronounced dead. In this sense ‘the’ corpse or body behaves like an aggregate of part-bodies – organs, systems – that die in their own time and though their own unique mechanism. Because the body is only observed and not experienced, how can any discourse predict what the body is at this dead-alive time? The autonomy and independence of the dead body and its parts is a surprising reminder of their autonomy and independence from the subject in life, despite the fact that the subject in this post-mortem activity stage is un-locatable if not absent. A body completely void of internal organs may remain ‘alive’ if necessary mechanisms are supporting it. Michael Brown, in describing organ harvesting from a brain-dead subject states:

[The nurse] knows they are being kept alive artificially when they come to her. They have to be declared dead beforehand. Still they have a good blood pressure that she maintains with the appropriate drugs: their hearts are beating, vital signs normal. Then the kidneys come out and the heart comes out, lung, bone or ear tissue, and corneas. Then [she] turns everything off and they die. [60]

Medicine’s ability to maintain a pronounced-dead person ‘alive’ and then, by turning off the machine, making them ‘dead’ is another illustration of the plasticity of the moment of death. Culturally death seems an event, which ruptures into and terminates the lesser events that have speckled an individual’s existence. But death here is shown to be slow, occurring within a not entirely pin-pointable period of time, it is an evolutionary narrative whereby the harvesting of the vital organs progresses the body towards corpse without giving it the grace to be corpse until the nurse is ready. In the quote, Brown explicates a person who dies twice. Declared death, as already explained, is what constitutes a corpse in medico-legal discourse, yet in the quote Brown maintains the ‘corpse’ remains alive, without organs, until it is ‘turned off’. There is no indication as to how long the cadaver could be maintained as ‘alive’ without its organs. The very idea of an organ-less, eyeless, earless subject being maintained on life-support insinuates that even the empty corpse has ‘life’, while we are reminded that the pronounced dead corpse contains within it a cornucopia of functioning, ‘living’ organs not quite ready to die.

Earlier, I discussed Freud and Bataille suggesting organisms avoid a ‘true’ death by splitting into two, using this as a form of immortality or creative death. Reproduction in more evolved forms of animal life (including human) somehow ideologically ‘defeats’ death momentarily, yet ironically creates a drive towards death due to the desire to reproduce. Bataille writes, “The moments of plethora when animals are in the grip of sexual fever are critical ones in their isolation. Then fear of death and pain is transcended, then the sense of relative continuity... is heightened.” [61] In regards to a transcendence of death through sexual plethora and the imaginings of reproduction, what of the harvested self? Is there to be a new phantasy of being harvested and living for another lifetime? [62] Could there be a desire to imagine consciousness in organs? Of course this is conjectural, however taboos associated with the harvesting of organs, either personal or social, indicates the amount of the ‘self’ invested in the sentient ‘other’ flesh of the viscera. Throughout life the viscera is repressed, it carries on with its function without our ever quite knowing or understanding what it does and how it knows what to do. But at the (many) point(s) of death, the subject is suddenly imagined to be entirely sentient over its own viscera, a complete contradiction to what occurred in life. Those who invest their dead relatives’ viscera with untouchability and those who refuse to contemplate organ donation are investing in the corpse a consciousness of ownership, need and control. Ironic that after pronounced death it is the organs and not the subject (as far as we know of course, and until we hear otherwise) that retain their sentience and hence their ability to function inside another body, another subjectivity. So the cadaver lies as a dead covering (except for the potential skin graft corpse) maintaining flourishing potentials for life within it, and juxtaposing the concepts of filth, decay, disease and bacteria which surround it.

Death in the forensic texts used here, like terms defined by other scientific texts used in this book, is made up by an equation. Death is stripped of being a rupturing event, and instead occurs with many quotients over vast amounts of operative procedures. The equation for death common in forensics consists of Cause, Manner and Mechanism. Each forensic text has this equation put into the author’s own words, but it is seemingly universal. DiMaio & DiMaio kindly sympathize with future forensic scientists by adding “Clinicians, lawyers and the lay public often have difficulty understanding the difference between cause of death, mechanism of death, and manner of death.” [63] It is a phantasy of pure presence, occurring for the briefest possible time imaginable that makes us think death as singular. Such phrases as ‘slow death’ are really slow narratives that lead up to death. Is there not one instant in which life ceases to be, where before it existed no matter how tenuously? By precluding their discussion of the equation of death with such a statement DiMaio & DiMaio indicate the far-reach of the phantasy of the very essence of the moment of death. [64] Basically, the cause, manner and mechanism according to DiMaio & DiMaio are as follows:

The cause of death is any injury or disease that produces a physiological derangement in the body that results in the individual dying. Thus the following are causes of death: a gunshot wound of the head, a stab wound of the chest, adenocarcinoma of the lung, and coronary atherosclerosis. The mechanism of death is the physiological derangement produced by the cause of death that results in death. Examples of mechanism of death would be hemorrhage, septicemia and cardiac arrhythmia... The manner of death explains how the cause of death came about. Manners of death are usually considered to be natural, homicide, suicide, accident and undetermined. [65]

The features that constitute death are all in the hands of the forensic pathologist to decide. The idea that forensics is a god-like state reading the passive body of the dead, in order to have power over the democratic culling of death, is made quite clear in the formulation of the equation ‘what death is made of (cause, mechanism, manner)’. Knight reveals the self-knowledge forensics has to its own power in his discussion of the obscure autopsy, where cause of death is unascertainable:

No cause of death can be extracted from these negative findings [in the case of a 22 year old male who literally dropped dead] and the case must be recorded as ‘unascertained’ - or as Professor Alan Usher of Sheffield points out, as ‘unascertainable’, if the pathologist is feeling particularly omnipotent! [66]

The omnipotence of the pathologist occurs not only because of their evidence being legally true, but because there is some kind of social awe given to those who are able to excavate a corpse without being affected by the abject signification it is embellished with. A forensic pathologist in this respect is equivalent to a socially accepted necrophiliac, as evinced in this strange quote from Edna Buchanan

A corpse has no privacy. Until you are dead you are usually a total stranger to homicide detectives. Then with a single mindedness matched only by that of a jealous lover, they must know all about you - everything - even details your sweetheart or your spouse does not know. Secrets you would not tell your best friend. Particulars you didn’t understand about yourself. Nothing is sacred. They want to know what you ate, what you wore, what you read. Your drinking habits and your sex habits. They will read your diary and your mail and scrutinize the contents of your safety-deposit box and your stomach. They are there, examining every nook and cranny of your corpse, once they begin to disassemble it at the morgue. [67]

Forensic pathology is, in a way, the strangest of sexualities. Pathologists are faced with the corpse not only as an object, but also as an object that has within it, multiple other objects, layers and facets. [68] If we consider that what we do for a living, especially at a highly specialized level, might supposedly reflect one way in which we achieve pleasure, then the forensic pathologist must achieve pleasure through a unique definition of the term. The body can no longer be taken as an object, of desire, of repulsion or anything else, when it is rent so it no longer resembles a body. But read within the context of our culture which sanctions and prohibits pleasure so vigilantly, perhaps pleasure in the corpse is redirected towards a more traditional version of what is a ‘good’ cause of pleasurable feeling. In this instance it may be knowledge. Reading the body as text thus rings true on a literal level. The contents of the body are sliced into fine sheets and placed between slides in order to read them for different things. Even if the forensic pathologist is read as some form of necrophiliac, this would represent a desire for a body that is in its most minutely perfect and yet disheveled state, or as DiMaio & DiMaio stated earlier, ‘Physiologically deranged’. What kind of reading is going on through forensic eyes? It certainly must be different to the non-forensic eye and of course between the eyes of different pathologists and at different personal and historical moments. But how does one see the living human body after one knows the unchangeable potential for its condition as sliced and contorted into files of flesh, its ability to be read after death when it could never read itself during life. Or indeed, could never be read by anyone else - Knight states “Several surveys in various countries have shown that where a physician offers a cause of death without the benefit of autopsy findings, the error rate is of the order of 25-50 per cent, even in deaths in hospitals.” [69] The body speaks louder in evisceration than it ever could during its integrated, sealed life. Similar to the speech of disease, where a subject is frequently only made aware of an organ because it is in pain, the speech of cadavers is a ‘coming out’ and a making not only visible, but though slicing and eviscerating the organs, the organs within the organs and so forth, making ultra-visible, ultra-textual, the flesh of the subject. This articulation of the flesh itself. No longer are speaking subject and flesh divided. The flesh finds language in autopsy. [70] It speaks the narrative, the manner of death (what happened to the subject). The mechanism and the cause remain inarticulate, and possibly unknown by everyone, until the body is removed from its shell. [71] There seems a suggestion that within any science that desires truth - here forensics - the body opened and splayed is the sight of this truth. It is the most abject of objects yet it speaks most articulately about the final moments of the life of the subject, rather than speaking only as a representation of the subject’s permanent absence.

David Heilbroner, a young D.A., remarked on his first sight of a photographic homicide file: “At first I found the photographs a little disappointing. There were no gaping wounds in the body or pools of blood... If you did not know he had been murdered you might have thought he was daydreaming, but knowing the man in the picture was dead - or, as I soon found out, stabbed to death - transformed an otherwise unremarkable image into an object of fascination.” [72] The contextualization of any image of a corpse is vital not only in creating the reaction towards it, but in defining it, and hence in defining death. Looking at a photograph tells the viewer only what the eye sees, which is never enough to name the image as it ‘really’ may be. [73] The title of an image or of the book it appears in creates its ‘reality’ or ‘fakeness’. So does title also create the context of what death is? Death to the philosopher is consciousness and un-being in the future, to the film fan it is a surmountable state that can be re-run over and over, repetitious presence. And to the pathologist it is a past presence, death is a long forgotten state, and only ‘the dead’ remains to define what it may have been. The corpse is the relic of death but not a representation of what death is. The glamour of the body in shock and in pain upon a television screen represents a death that is so far from the head-shots of victims in forensics texts they are not even recognizable as belonging to the same cultural genre. Or are they different? Is this ‘observation’ simply an incarnation of my anxieties about that which I am told is ‘real’ and ‘fake’? Being told a photograph is ‘real’ and is ‘unreal’ (filmic or faked) seems necessary in order to ascertain whether one is witnessing an after-death or a performance of its result. The forensic shots present in Knight’s and DiMaio & DiMaio’s books are those I will focus on, while being aware that there are numerous other forensic texts available which are similar both in the sheer dynamics of what they depict and the blasé commentary which is stuck over them. [74] Upon opening a forensic text the foremost concept in the mind of the non-forensic reader must be - ‘This is real’.

In using the terms ‘real’ and ‘unreal’ over the next section of this chapter I am going to relinquish the urge to use the Real in Lacanian terms. I do so not because it is a different real, but because, if there were any kind of circumstance which presented the Real in its most universally affective state, it is staring into the faces of corpses, ex-subjectivities who are ‘real’. This tactic obviously examines my own anxieties about death by presuming they are universal, but reading these forensic texts as a person who has come from a discourse where death occurs glamorously, no matter how gorily, in film, the shock of staring at the eyes of a cadaverous face which is absent in self is a point where the Real converges upon everyone, everything and the viewer (at least I) is shocked at the tactless universality of death’s reaping. [75] Death is imbued with choice or the power of discrimination. The grim-reaper phantasy is protection for the mind to the fact that death is not a being, is not a sentient choice-maker, but an occurrence as everyday as sleeping, eating or defecation. It takes less time than the nine months of birth, and remembering the unascertainable case from Knight of the twenty-two year old man who literally dropped dead, it gives no warning and shows no answerable remorse. The pronoun used for death becomes noticeable when speaking of it, the use of ‘it’ further affirms the figure of a discerning reaper. But death, whether a narrative or an event, is very difficult to ‘capture’ linguistically. Using the equation cause-mechanism-manner, the noun death is not even needed anymore, which further complicates what death is in relation to the subject and to the body. This complication is where the context of the imagery of death becomes important. Modes of reading, or being the proper ‘subject’ who reads, despite the fact that scientific texts masquerade their claims of knowledge as if there is no author and no reader, only a ‘learner’, becomes the most important feature in making the ‘death’ of the individual visible. ‘Real’ death in forensics texts is displayed for a didactic purpose, to be looked at only in order to learn. When such an image is looked at as if in a picture book, for aesthetic purposes, its signification seems to alter. If the word ‘forensics’ appears in a title then not only does the signification of the image change from ‘image’ to ‘real’ but the mode of reading changes with it, from ‘pleasure’ to ‘learning’. The forensic text is not meant to be ‘read’ as such, but exists almost as a non-text, a series of images and words that exist only to push the reader from novice to professional scientist. It is a purposeful text, where purpose dominates text. When it is read as a text only (for pleasure) its intended signification alters. Death in forensic books is usually exemplary of the dynamic, the unusual or the violent. [76] The prevalence of mainly black and white photographs adds a grainy seediness to the images, [77] enhancing the sense of the ingloriousness of death, and especially of being propped up before a camera with the flesh in various deranged conditions.

The forensic scientist has what could almost be termed a talent for seeing death as irrelevant (except in its relationship with the law) and the corpse as an object no longer invested with life, hence in no real need for respect. [78] The language in the texts often hints at the forensic pathologist’s awareness of his/her [79] lack of tact/a.k.a. rationality when it comes to treating and discussing the corpse, especially in reference to those who knew the corpse as a subject. Little asides such as the following insinuate a certain attitude among the forensic pathologist ‘community’ that seem to indicate some things are best discussed only by them and not the lay community:

Many mistakes have been made in the past, with adverse publicity, embarrassing enquiries and even legal consequences. Autopsies on the wrong person, incorrect causes of death, relatives attending the wrong funeral and even cremation of the wrong body are regularly reported... [80]

To the forensic scientist the corpse has no subjectivity at all; identity mix up is only a consideration with respect to its potential consequences. Considering the things the forensic team do to the body before they place it in readiness for the funeral mortuary, it seems a little strange that the post-autopsy corpse would hold any signifying value to the relations. As Quigley points out, “The autopsy is a humane but mutilating procedure, which would devastate loved ones if they were allowed to witness it.” [81] The use of the word ‘humane’ is important to the cultural phantasy of what goes on during the autopsy, but it seems irrelevant that something which may be in the autopsy room due to astonishing violence being wrought upon it, something which in death only resembles human, requires humane treatment. Humane would be expected to apply to human-ness, which a corpse does not have. The corpse shows its threat to the living and the living duly respect it out of fear as much as love. We fear the dead –“To avoid their return we ensure that the dead are buried in ceremony.” [82] We fear images of real corpses in forensic texts where we laugh at the ‘dead’ in films. [83] Real corpses, despite their lack of ‘presence’ and subjectivity, bore into us with fear of our own potential to be the image we see while simultaneously not being anything. This is especially true of those with face frontal and eyes open (usually an indication of violent death such as strangulation). The head and face are touchy spots because they residually signify subjectivity.

One of the more colorful autopsy procedures, used when examining the head and brain involves the slicing of the scalp across the apex of the head from ear to ear across the very highest point on the skull. The two flaps of skin created are then pulled quite rigorously down over the front and back of the head. The coroner must specifically request this exercise, in the majority of autopsies. In the film Basic Autopsy Procedures (director unknown, US, 1961) an educational film for medical students, the scalp flap is pulled down so far at the front it nestles comfortably under the chin of the corpse entirely covering the face and creating an ‘inside-out-head’ character, as if the corpse is wearing an eyeless balaclava of the interior of its own scalp. The skin of the scalp, turned inside out covers the face and a whole new plane of head-surface is revealed. The head’s interior is then examined. This procedure is quite rough due to the toughness of the skull bone and the layers of dura, which cover the brain. There are facial autopsies occasionally performed, but information on the procedure is difficult to find in great detail. It is enough to discover that inserting a hypodermic needle into the eye performs the standard collection of vitreous humor! The face seems void of its cultural ‘humanity’ to the forensic pathologist, or perhaps the repetitive nature of objectification which accompanies the work dulls the pathologist to its nature (accompanied by the pleasure received by the work which is mentioned earlier). For the layperson however, the ease with which the faceless cadaver in the fascinating state of wearing a scalp balaclava may be examined juxtapose sharply with the faced corpse. The face is true signification in this procedure, because it can be peeled off and replaced, it becomes black through bruising, marbling and simply death, and it is always univocalized as its despotic signified - death. Ordinarily any photograph that includes a face will be a less gory or unusual one, due to the importance of the inclusion of the face. (With the exception of the machete wound victim in DiMaio & DiMaio [84] .) This inclusion makes the almost ‘unrealness’ of the very lurid gory images more pronounced, while the ‘reality’ of the face pictures is enhanced. Black and white, which is used in the majority of the books probably to save costs, adds to this ‘reality’. Color pictures seem more polished and staged, especially due to the color of the viscera - garish blues, greens and the fatty yellow beneath the skin. They could be photographs from a make-up artist’s guide to gore effects. The ‘reality’ of black and white has been theorized [85] and its filmicly mythical ‘truth’ as opposed to the fakery of color is every bit as evident in the forensic text. Death images that include the face remain the hardest to look at.

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