Will I Laugh? Or Scream in Pain?

A certain blogger (whom I shall not name) has been providing me with instruction and amusement for several months. She writes about the failings of other people; as for herself, she periodically realizes that she has been selling herself short—she is really a much more wonderful and deserving person than she had previously thought. This great failing—the lack of appreciation of her own wonderfulness—causes her much pain and embarrassment.

You're probably thinking that she is very self-involved; but isn't that what blogging is all about?

A particular annoyance to her is taxation—or as she calls it, theft. This is a splendidly convenient point of view. One isn't a taxpayer, participating in one's community. No, one is a crime victim; and we all know what moral superiority victims can lay claim to. She has never given consent for dollars to be taken from her and given to some schlub who has been out of work for 99 weeks; she doesn't approve of such pandering. It doesn't seem to occur to her that taxation and ownership are two clauses belonging to the same social contract; if one wishes to have one's property rights respected, one must accede to taxation. (This is not meant to stifle debate about the way government spends money. It may turn out that those extended benefits really are a disservice to the out-of-work people receiving them. But this needs to be studied and debated in detail, by the people we elected to handle such things. Unfortunately those folks are more into polarization and symbolic votes these days.)

Personally, I think having to wash one's clothes is theft. And I will be joining my fellow victims at the laundromat tomorrow. Pity me.

So where does this blogger go for validation of her viewpoints? Why, to the great Ayn Rand, of course—the high priestess of the-world-revolves-around-me, me! individualism. Feeling selfish? Let the Ayn Rand Institute comfort you. It turns out, you're not being selfish enough!

Okay, let me stop and catch my breath. For as it happens, I have just written a great many words about something I know very little about. I've heard that Ayn Rand was a horrible person. I've heard that her philosophy is a laughable set of rationalizations for rampant egotism. I've heard that her writing style is ponderous.

Maybe it's time I had a look for myself.

A great many people describe The Fountainhead as the book that changed their life and gave them the outlook they have today. Sure, that outlook may include the notion that the only people who are poor are the ones who deserve to be poor, and similar thoughts. But I'm curious about a work that many people find either compelling or disgusting—curious enough to try reading the book myself. And blogging about the experience.

But with my biases, all the things I've heard, will I be able to give the book a fair shake? Probably not. I will certainly be on the lookout for evidence of misanthropy. Written in turgid prose. At the same time, Rand's underlying, mind-bendingly brilliant philosphy may fly right over my simple head. Yes, my limitations may hold me back from appreciating this great work.

Then again, I may turn out to be a much more wonderful person than I thought.