I Finished Atlas Shrugged

Well, I finished Atlas Shrugged last night, and I have to say, it's been a while since I've been so glad to say I've gotten something out of the way, and at the same time had such resentment about all those hours of my life that I'm never going to get back. I was especially appalled and exhausted at the end of John Galt's radio speech, which weighs in at an astounding 56½ pages, and finishes a good 90 pages before the end of the book.

I can't speak for Ayn Rand's Objectivist philosophy, but I can say this: I hate her as a writer, and if there is any justice in the world, she'll pay for luring me into reading that book. Of course, from an objectivist point of view, the fault is all mine. From an objectivist point of view, Ayn is simply a creative genius of noble bearing offering her unparalleled excellence and expecting my unparalleled excellence in return.

But in Ayn's world view, there's no room for charity, so I'm not offering any... that book was painfully didactic, maddeningly predictable, sinfully melodramatic, and annoyingly smug. But what should we expect from a writer who believes that everything is black & white, and there are no shades of gray?


This is how you look when you stay up too late reading Atlas Shrugged

It's a beautiful weekend here in New York City. The rains of the past week have finally blown over, and the sun is bright and practically alone in the sky. Not, of course, that I minded the rains... we've been suffering through a drought here in the northeast, and we needed it, a lot.

We're still in what's called a Stage One alert, which means that, while things aren't exactly ready to collapse in on themselves, there are still certain prohibited activities. One of those prohibited activities is that business owners aren't allowed to hose off their sidewalks, and I didn't realize what a huge difference that makes in how clean the city looks & smells.

I've been walking the streets of New York recently, thinking that there was a significantly larger amount of trash on the sidewalks, and without thinking, I was ready the lay the blame at the feet of Mayor Bloomberg... I was actually pining for Rudy Guiliani, for god's sake! Now, not that I don't have plenty of bones to pick with Bloomberg, but I have to give him his due - the sudden increase in trash on the streets has more to do with the drought than with his policies. It just took me a while to make the connection. If the shopkeepers and landlords aren't allowed to hose off their sidewalks, then they're not very likely to do the debris removal that's a first step in that process... hence, I've been stepping over more wrappers and dropped crap than I have since I moved here.

Of course, in a perfect world, people would drop their trash in trash cans, but from what I've seen, those are overflowing, 'cuz the Department of Sanitation doesn't do the greatest job of collecting the trash... not long ago I was walking through Chelsea and saw a sanitation truck come along, and the worker who was emptying the trash can spilled nearly ¼ of it on the street, and did nothing about picking it up. Now that I think I can beef at the mayor about.

So I spent part of the day in Central Park, sorta contemplating my existence and checking out the eye candy. I got to see Sheeps Meadow from an angle I've not seen before, which was kinda cool. The photos below are taken from the eastern end of the meadow... I tend (mostly because I hate the trains on the East Side) to enter Central Park and approach the meadow from the West Side. Which is what I did in this instance, only I entered the park and made my way north of the meadow, then circled south around it.

So, normally, I'd be sitting at the far side of the meadow... looking across at where I'm sitting; or I'd be sitting on the northern end, looking south... which would be from the right side of these pictures, to the left.

And lest you think I've totally given up my voyeuristic ways, take a look at these guys where were sitting closely enough to be my (semi) unwitting subjects. Actually, the guy sitting down caught me snapping his picture, and didn't seem to mind too terribly.

But by far, my favorite shot of the day is one that I came on completely by accident. I saw this flyer laying on the ground... it had obviously been there a while and had been trod upon repeatedly (which I think is only appropriate). I chuckled and kept going, and then I thought, "No, I've got to go back and save that one for posterity..." So I hurried back and took a couple of snaps. Sadly, they didn't turn out as sharply as I'd have liked. If ever there was a shot I'd have liked to have blown up and framed, this was it...

It says:
DO NOT RECEIVE 666
THE MARK OF THE BEAST
A MICROCHIP IN YOUR HAND OR FOREHEAD

Watch out, y'all...