It does not fortify my soul in the least to know that after I die all unmarried men will still be bachelors, that 37 will still be a prime number, that the stars will continue to shine, and that forever I will have been just what I am now. Away with these fake immortalities! They mean nothing to the heart. Better to say with Bertrand Russell: “I believe that when I die I shall rot, and nothing of my ego will survive.**

**Martin Gardner, The Whys of a Philosophical Scrivener, New York: Quill, 1983.