i don’t mean to brag, but i’ve read ayn rand, and i understand her thesis and support it.
her thesis, individualism, is neither for the faint of heart nor for the sentimentalist. it’ s for the steely-eyed, the iron fisted, the fucked ups, the honest-to-goodness Self-centered individuals.
she died in the year i was born, and it saddened me because i could have enjoyed more of her works if she were alive and producing more publications.
at the heart of her teachings is the individual who is the Alpha and Omega of his or her own life.
i am writing this after reading the non-fiction work titled Heaven is for Real: A Little Boy’s Astounding Story of His Trip to Heaven and Back written by Todd Burpo (you can read write-ups about this piece here).
it’s good to read a piece of work that makes the wheels of your grey matter work on overdrive (Atlas Shrugged, The Fountainhead, etc.) and other texts that jar you (Heaven is for Real).
Heaven is for Real dangled a tempting foothold. if what Burpo wrote in behalf of his son is true, then I have nothing to worry about because I would again see my stepmother and dog-dog and tiger and my five turtles.
if things were this simple, i would be over the moon by now.
but at the heart of things is a heartless chamber, and ayn rand’s works occupy almost all of its niches.