Connections

Aside from having Baron Baptiste's 40 Days fall out at my feet this morning, I haven't encountered any texts whose narrative threads beg for unraveling. But what has struck me today is how tightly the lives of people are woven together. In spite of all the evidence to the contrary, the number of people who still affirm the myth of the rugged individualist beholden to none amazes me.

Ayn Rand is an author who enables this kind of romantic, delusional thinking. When i was a teenager, I remember embracing her novels. I saw her heroes as passionate and creative, exactly the type of person I thought I could become. The thought of becoming someone as strategic as Dagny Taggart or as creative as Howard Roark thrilled me. Now I see the characters as damaged, miserable people. As I grew older, I began to recognize the importance of collaboration. I began to believe that originality is a myth and that the collective mind is something to be frightened of. Instead, I learned respect for all those who gave to those according to their need. The idea that a small group of separatists could start a community in the mountains of Colorado and actually succeed seems ludicrous.

What I really need to do is reread The Fountainhead. I honestly don't think that I could handle Atlas Shrugged again without completely skipping through the "philosophy," especially John Galt's infamous rant (I mean speech).