atlas-shrugged

Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swamps of the not-quite, the not-yet, and the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserved and have never been able to reach. The world you desire can be won. It exists.. it is real.. it is possible.. it’s yours.
—  Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged
Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swamps of the not-quite, the not-yet, and the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserved and have never been able to reach. The world you desire can be won. It exists.. it is real.. it is possible.. it’s yours.
—  Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged
Escapism is the Zeitgeist,
the drug of choice,
the opiate of the people.
In the age of reason,
entropy is so very present:
life hurtling toward its untimely end.

And so we eat, drink and be merry
for we feel death so very close;
so afraid of the nothingness after
that it has crept into our now.
And so we throw ourselves into work,
into causes,
into any tangible thing
we can sink into without drowning.

Consume,
consume,
consume.
We devour trash for entertainment
in hopes to stall death
for five easy payments of $19.95 and that’s not all,
call now and we can fix problems
you didn’t even know
you needed.
We shoot up with sabotaged affairs
feel the brief rush of romance
with a harsh comedown. We swallow alcohol by the gallon
and toast to our health
in hopes that maybe— maybe—
it will somehow truly grant us vigor, that
we would feel eternity in our veins.
All rushing towards something—
clawing at anything—
in hopes the nothingness can be put off.

Escapism is the coward’s drug
but
who
among
us
isn’t an addict?

— 

NOT PURPOSE BUT FEAR ~ Emilya

Inspired by an excerpt from Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand

Roark proclaims his designs a wonder
Rearden boasts about being self-made
Dagny’s iron fist tries to hold a rail company
Earned only through a tycoon’s ruthlessness

The union is a demon, the state only a nanny
And Atlas juggled the Heavens gently
Altering astrology for His own amusement
While Hephaestus laboured in a forge –

Hephaestus whispered ‘put down your tools’
And every plumber, conductor, labourer
All walked off their work as one to protest
Visionaries who only desired they be weak

Readen’s buildings crumpled with none to work
Roark was nothing without the backs of others
And Galt less than a footnote in history
Another tyrant calling out for freedom

Have you ever looked for the root of production? Take a look at an electric generator and dare tell yourself that it was created by the muscular effort of unthinking brutes. Try to grow a seed of wheat without the knowledge left to you by men who had to discover it for the first time. Try to obtain your food by means of nothing but physical motions–and you’ll learn that man’s mind is the root of all the goods produced and of all the wealth that has ever existed on earth.
—  Francisco D’Anconia, Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged

“ATLAS SHRUGGED,” A NOVEL THAT PREACHES THE FERENGI CONCEPT OF OBJECTIVISM AND THE EVILS OF ALTRUISM AND HANDOUTS, WAS MADE INTO A TWO-PART FILM. PART ONE WAS SUCH A FINANCIAL FAILURE THAT THE PRODUCTION TEAM TURNED TO KICKSTARTER TO ASK FANS TO DONATE THE FUNDING FOR PART TWO. THEY REFUSED TO SEE THE IRONY IN THIS. 

Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swamps of the not-quite, the not-yet, and the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserved and have never been able to reach. The world you desire can be won. It exists.. it is real.. it is possible.. it’s yours.
—  Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged
People think that a liar gains a victory over his victim. What I’ve learned is that a lie is an act of self-abdication, because one surrenders one’s reality to the person to whom one lies, making that person one’s master, condemning oneself from then on to faking the sort of reality that person’s view requires to be faked…The man who lies to the world, is the world’s slave from then on…There are no white lies, there is only the blackest of destruction, and a white lie is the blackest of all.
—  Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged
But you say that money is made by the strong at the expense of the weak? What strength do you mean? It is not the strength of guns or muscles. Wealth is the product of man’s capacity to think. Then is money made by the man who invents a motor at the expense of those who did not invent it? Is money made by the intelligent at the expense of the fools? By the able at the expense of the incompetent? By the ambitious at the expense of the lazy? Money is made–before it can be looted or mooched–made by the effort of every honest man, each to the extent of his ability. An honest man is one who knows that he can’t consume more than he has produced.’
—  Francisco D’Anconia, Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged

Last week, local teenager Andrew Phillips picked up a copy of Ayn Rand’s best-selling dystopian novel Atlas Shrugged. Within a matter of days, Phillips finished the entire novel cover-to-cover.

Many in town held a candlelight vigil, in memory of Andrew Phillips.

“I miss Andrew,” said Monica Wake, one of Phillips’s best friends since elementary school, during the memorial service. “He was such a sweet kid. He cared so much about other people. And it’s so sad that that sweet kid is no longer with us today.” Wake, as well as many others, broke down in tears.

“I remember the last thing Andrew said to me before the wonderful person he used to be died,” said another friend, Richard Baker. “He said to me, ‘Richard, I just got to the part where Francisco gives his speech about money and the root of all evil. Ayn Rand just got that so right’. I didn’t want to believe it, but as time went by… I had to accept that the Andrew I knew was no longer with us.”

Baker then went on to say, “But after he finished the big speech at the end… it was even worse. I asked if he wanted the rest of my turkey sandwich. He said charity was for parasites, and that mine was the morality of death. I don’t even know what that means. It was just a sandwich.”

In a final, tearful eulogy by Phillips’s best friend Jacob Roark, he said, “Andrew was my best friend. He was kind. He was thoughtful. But toward the end, he slipped into something like dementia. He wasn’t the same smiling boy I used to know. He kept talking about how poor people deserve to die, that they were just leeches on society. And he said that we should do away with all government, and become an anarcho-capitalist society. It’s just…” Roark broke down sobbing. “It’s just not realistically sustainable taking into account human nature and the complexities of the real world!” Roark cried.

“I just miss my friend,” Roark said, wiping away tears of grief and loss. “He used to be cool. He used to be nice. Now he’s a Libertarian. But I won’t remember him as he is now: cold, dead, uncaring of the underprivileged. I will remember him as the wonderful human being he once was. I love you, Andrew. For free.”

The service lasted two hours, with hundreds showing up to honor the memory of Andrew Phillips.

Studies have found that the minds of thousands of impressionable teenagers are victim to readings of Atlas Shrugged every year. Phillips’s parents have issued a warning to all those contemplating Ayn Rand novels: “Don’t let yourself become a statistic. Think.”

— 

Unsuspecting Teenager Picks Up Copy of Atlas Shrugged

The Wishwashington Post