I watched a man die on the streets of New York City. He was out jogging ahead of me in the bright summer sunshine of midtown Manhattan, when suddenly and without warning he fell over, quite plainly dead. If you’ve ever seen a real corpse before – as opposed to one on television – quite a few differences are immediately apparent. For starters, the skin takes on a waxy inhuman sheen, gauntly stretched across the skull. There’s a noticeable lack of inner fire, as if the embers of the human spirit have been perceivably extinguished to leave nothing but an uncanny husk. It’s like watching an early CGI movie; something is disturbingly wrong and you want to look away.