Babylonian sundials. That's actually the name of a disease. Terrible disease. Thankfully all but eradicated by modern science. In the early 20th century it swept across eastern Europe, leaving thousands unable to touch their own necks. Their necks didn't disappear, you see. Their fingers didn't fall off, for the most part. The disease just made a person's neck skin bunch up and smell like oatmeal. Not the good kind with fruit in it or maple syrup. The disgusting kind of oatmeal nuns use to wash their feet. The kind industry uses to make envelope glue and retching powder.
And the neck skin is never the same. The person isn't the same. It's only contagious for a few weeks and then the purple-gray color lessens. And, although invisible to the outside, the victim always sees big stretch rings on their neck when looking in the mirror. They also sometimes see a Quaker man standing behind them, admiring the purity of his own neck skin in a boastful manner.
Aren't you glad I'm here to explain this stuff?