Faces Of Death

Paging Dr. Neil.

Paging Dr. Neil.

Dr. Anderson, room 381.

Dr. Anderson, room 381.

Dr. Philips, report to ICU.

Unfortunately, medical science

cannot always have success.

The moment death occurs,

my expertise is called upon.

When this organ ceased to function,

the result was death,

the one reality we cannot avoid.

I'm Dr. Frances Grss.

I work as a pathologist.

And over the past 20 years, I've compiled

a library of the many faces of death.

My travels have taken me

all over the world,

searching for the various situations

that have dealt with our ultimate end.

I've seen with my own eyes

a myriad of experiences

that have led me

to greater awareness of the living.

We have developed a world

that refuses to recognize our own destiny.

Many years ago,

I was plagued

with a recurring dream.

There were only two faces that I could

recognize - a young woman and a priest.

Everything was quiet

and the funeral seemed endless.

I had no reason for this dream.

It had resembled nothing

I had ever experienced within my lifetime,

just the constant

images of death,

existing within a silence

that would not respond to my questions.

I knew that this dream marked a beginning,

the beginning of journey

that would take me around the world

in search of an understanding of death.

My friends thought me

compulsive and insane,

while others said

I was a distorted fanatic.

You will be witness

to what I have discovered.

May you be the jury, but your verdict

will be one of self-conviction.

I know what I have witnessed.

Now it is your turn.

Prepare yourself

for a journey into a world

where each new step may give you

a better understanding of your own reality,

for I am sure you will gain a new

perspective from the many faces of death.

Mother Nature had a surprise for those who

died in the town of Guanajuato, Mexico.

When families could not afford to pay the

rental fees on their loved ones' grave sites,

the dead were exhumed,

revealing that they had been mummified

due to the rich minerals

in the earth.

Men, women and children -

their faces frozen with the final vision.

As I studied these mummies,

I had the feeling that each one

had a different story to tell

about their own death.

Death in sport is another area

I explored during my visit to Mexico.

Like a modern-day gladiator,

a matador's fame

will be determined by

the quickness of his sword.

In another part of this country, I discovered

what could be the most brutal sport of all.

Set in clandestine meeting places

because it is illegal,

pit bull trainers face their dogs

against each other in a battle to the death.

Trained from puppies,

these animals are bred to kill.

A dog fight can last

as long as two hours.

Bets are made

at the beginning of the brawl,

and a trainer can make

as much as $5,000 from a single bout.

A pit bull is capable of surviving

at least five fights within its violent lifetime.

If this appears inhumane, remember,

these animals know only one way of life.

They have been conditioned by man

to declare war on their own kind.

The Amazon jungle

in South America,

one of the last natural frontiers

left on the planet Earth.

Even in this untouched magnificence,

death becomes a mandate of survival.

As I observed

the various creatures of this jungle,

I realized that nature

has endowed each inhabitant

with its own special equipment

to survive.

There is no shelter

for the weak.

Territorial rights

must be observed.

One wrong move

can easily end in death.

When a creature becomes prey in

this wilderness, there is one conciliation -

death occurs in a matter of seconds

and nothing is wasted.

There is a continual balance

that must be maintained in the jungle.

The death of one creature

ensures the existence of another.

Deep within the Amazon basin exists

an Indian tribe known as the Jivaros.

Totally content

within their domain,

these savages have existed

in a world isolated from modern civilization.

They have always fascinated me

because, for them, killing on a daily basis

is their only means of survival.

And, like the animals who are

their neighbors, the Jivaros eat all they kill.

When the women began to make

a potion called chicha,

I knew my visit to their village

would soon be rewarded.

By mixing their saliva with manioc root,

an alcoholic drink is the result.

This marks the beginning

of a very special celebration.

For these Indians do not restrict

their hunting to only animals.

There is a greater trophy

that these warriors seek.

Their quest for revenge

becomes a gruesome ritual.

The severed head of an opposing warrior

ensures them respect

in a land known as the Amazon.

The country of Africa has its own code

of laws that expose another face of death.

During my travel through

the Serengeti plains of Africa,

I became intrigued

with a tribe called the Masai.

Meat for these people is a delicacy,

and the warriors in charge of butchering

the animal were eager to begin their feast.

I found their consumption of blood

an interesting prelude to their main course.

Living on a farm

in the Western world,

a human being chooses

a life of self-sufficiency.

This lifestyle may appear barbaric

to urban dwellers.

Unlike the Masai,

who celebrate the slaughter of a cow,

the death of an animal on a farm

is one chore among many

for this modern-day pioneer.

Watching this rooster writhe in pain

around the barnyard,

the woman assured me

the bird had felt nothing.

Since its death is so sudden,

movement is caused by a nervous reflex.

Viewing this whole process,

I began to question my ability

to survive under these same conditions.

If necessity dictated

that I become my own provider,

I think I'd choose

the life of a vegetarian.

But what about people

who don't live on a farm?

Those of us who live

within the womb of a technological society?

Our carnivorous needs

must also be fulfilled.

To meet this enormous demand,

Western culture has developed

the ultimate killing machine

to feed the hungry masses.

It's called the slaughterhouse.

Life in this profession

begins early in the morning.

The death-dealing process

is an all-day affair.

One of the more grotesque slaughtering

techniques is the method of koshering.

Blessed by a rabbi, then slaughtered

by his hand, the animal bleeds to death.

This is said to be

a purifying process,

but as the cow choked on its own blood,

I could only feel pity.

Since the demand

for this meat is limited,

only a small percentage

is killed in this fashion.

The average American consumes

In a typical month, slaughterhouses across

the country will kill nearly 3 million cows

and 385,000 lambs.

Each individual along the assembly line

has his own specialty.

Day after day, they continue to work

in this environment of death.

When the novelty wears off,

the workers inform me

their job becomes a simple routine,

a way to make a living -

nothing more, nothing less.

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