Mike Wallace Interviews Ayn Rand

If you're not attuned to the philosophy of Objectivism, are interested in it, or are skeptical because of criticisms you may have heard, this is a fantastic interview wherein Ayn Rand expresses herself very clearly and concisely in defining and outlining Objectivism, while clarifying her stance against some tough examples of criticism from Wallace.

Enjoy!






Hat Tip: YAL

"I don't drink PBR to be ironic, it is all I can afford!": The reluctant hipster's lament

My name is Christine and I am a reluctant hipster. I maintain that my hipster status was not willingly adopted, but determined for me, as I was forced into vintage clothes and cheap booze via government enforced poverty. However, many people (including the organizer of this blog) maintain that I "listen to The Smiths, Therefore I am." Now according to the definition provided by Urban Dictionary of Hipster,I would qualify as a full blown, Parliment smoking, PBR drinking, English majoring pustule of irony. But what condemns me to subculture exile is my continuous and irreverent denial that I am a card carrying member of this generally loathsome faction of society. In the process of writing this blog, which was originally intended to disprove any and all allegations that I find it hip to be square, I have been confronted with certain inalienable "Coincidences" that make my disposition towards being a victim of social profiling feasible: I happen to prefer a style aesthetic that makes me look like an extra from a Wes Anderson film, I belong to a Beat book club, I watch foreign films because they are "avant garde" but really because I like the intellectual implications of embracing the general alienating nature of subtitles, I pretentiously judge others for being "pretentious" as I talk about obscure subjects that I specifically read up on just to so that I can highlight their obscurity and ipso facto my coolness...the list goes on.

In light of what I just wrote, I still maintain that my alignment with the hipster culture is largely incidental; I don't aspire to achieve irony (though I do enjoy it when it manages to make an appearance in normally mundane situations and locations, such as in line at a coffee shop or the used record store) I am almost 30 and have become a victim of circumstance because things that I appreciate (because I was alive for their original incarnations) have become symbolic of the college freshman bid for acceptance through perceived alienation. Despite all of the aforementioned, I am capable of recognizing that all signs point to Hipsterville, but how does the desire for individuality, which I believe to be at the root of any popular cultural trend: prep, emo, goth or hipster, make you an outcast amongst your own people? E Tu American Apparel guy? Ok I don't want to highlight my existential crisis of the week, so I will move on...

In Fight Club, Chuck Palahniuk writes " you are not a beautiful and unique snowflake." This statement rings true for all of us; the one thing we all share is the desire to forge an individual claim on the rest of the world. Hipsters just do this while standing together and apart from the rest of the gen pop while sipping on PBR. This is why, despite my own protest, I cannot hate on the Hipster fraternity; the more we all want to be different, the more we are the same. But, for the record, I drink High Life.

And Now for Something Completely Different

No, this has nothing to do with anything. But its early and it made me giggle.

I just checked, and (roughly) 85% of my wardrobe is black. The only hoodie I ever wear is black, all 3 pairs of shoes I own are black, both my winter coats are black, my computer tower, moniter, keyboard, speakers, and mouse are all black. My goddamn bath towels are even black. And lets not forget my backpack, laptop, digital camera, favorite hat, and both pairs of gloves. All black or dark grayish / black . O, and my clearly anti-morning cat is black.

None of this is to say that I'm a goth or a bleak and depressive kind of guy, So I decided that while I'm not about to alter my daily garb I should perhaps at least make an effort to affect my outward appearance to better reflect my inner giggling geek.

So the best solution I could come up with was to sit a sign in front of me for most of the day with a smiley face on it. Not wanting to actually tote around a sandwich board all day, I settled on the solution below:

Happy Tuesday.

Nobody Likes You

You're ugly.

And your mommy dresses you funny.

Now smile ya fuckin' douche.

I was thinking the other week about behavioral psychology [specifically this talk] and how much my life sucked. "I'm 21, a civil-environmental engineering student at a high-rated school, I've got Satellite TV, high-speed broadband (to be used with my high-performance gaming rig and tablet pc, as well as my recently acquired G1) all in my own bedroom in a downtown apartment that's waaaay too nice for someone like me to be living in, I'm in good health, decently good looking (as made apparent by my beautiful and loving girlfriend) and I have a swarth of marketable skills and talents, I'm capable, smart, and dagnabbit, people like me."


...so waitaminute. Why am I saying this sucks? My life is awesome.

So I stopped and asked "well, what's the deal self?"

to which myself replied "Well, maybe if you weren't such a mopey prick all the time you'd stop, count your toes, and realize that you're actually pretty happy."

"Hmmm, good point self. But what do you mean 'count your toes?"

"That's just an expression I thought of for this experiment. It's like the athiest's version of 'count your blessings.' If you can count your toes, it means - that for one, you can see them so you're not morbidly obese, AND you're not blind (despite your parent's warnings of what that adolescent hobby of yours would do) and that you have some kind of home in which you can take off your shoes and look down - or even better that you live in a tropical or sub-saharan climate and don't need to wear shoes. If you can count them it means you're at least partially intelligent, and if there's still 10 of them it's just a little bit of a cherry on top."

"That's awefully clever of you, self."

"Still keeping up with that hobby I see."

"Oh, screw you."

"Exactly."

And with those closing words to my inner sociopath I decided to preform an experiment. I would spend a month smiling, and see if it changed my overall attitude towards life, the universe, and everything. I promptly spent three days smiling then overslept one day, forgot about the whole thing, and went back to being sour until I found a scrap of paper and remembered my experiment and the post I was going to make about it.

So Dear Readers, I level my challenge thusly. Mark today as the beginning of your own month of smiling. Put a note on your door or TV or something [it helps to set reminders, especially if you see them after your morning coffee] and we'll meet back here in a month and discuss any effects we've noticed.

Ready.

Set.

GO!

(No, you can not take singles awareness day off)

Time To Get Exploited!

Ok kids -

I've had an idea knocking around my noodle since an offhand comment made at a noodle house after emptying my pockets, and I'd like to make use of you, dear readers, to expand on it. Take a moment, grab your camera, and take a quick pic of the contents of your pockets. Go ahead and post the pic here or email it [and please do leave a comment here saying you did so] to pocketpic@gmail.com. Go ahead and list your sex [hehe] and age, and profession if you really want.

Ladies, if wearing pocketless pantaloons [or skirts for that matter] then grab the items from your desk/coat/purse/Sherpa team that you would carry with you on a casual trouser/jean/khaki wearing day.

It will only take a minute, it will lead to further interesting reading, and as always - remember It's for Science!

I'll get us started.