"Have we any control over being born?," my friend asked in despair. "No, the job is done for us while we're sleeping, so to speak, and when we wake up everything is all set. We merely appear, like an ornate celebrity wheeled out in a wheelchair." "I don't remember," my friend claimed. "No need to," I said: "what need have us free-loaders for any special alertness? We're done for."