Ayn Rand’s Diary (with apologies to Helen Fielding) July 4, 2006Posted by smiffy in Libertarianism, Other Stuff.
Monday, 17 July
12st 10, alcohol units 12 (groan!), cigarettes 12 (no better way to exemplify man’s Promethean dominance over raw, brute, nature. In fact, I vow that I will smoke twice as many tomorrow)
Spent the evening over at smug marrieds Nathaniel and Barbara Brandon’s, for a dinner party along with the rest of the ‘Collective’ (ugh! who came up with that name?). I have to admit, despite the fact that Barbara cannot be considered a truly moral person, given that she does not earn money through creative endeavour, she certainly knows how to cook up a delicious pot roast, not to mention that lemon meringue pie of hers for pudding.
Although the evening was supposed to be a celebration of the anniversay of the death of quasi-Marxist Adam Smith, Leonard Peikoff decided that he was going to spend the entire time talking about himself (AGAIN!!!!). Honestly, I can’t believe that I snogged him last New Year’s Eve. Still I won’t be making that mistake again, and I won’t be getting that drunk again in a hurry (she said – LOL!).
Greenspan surprised us all, with the announcement that he had been in a “serious” relationship for the past month. That’s not like him at all – usually his little pick-ups are sent out the door before the sun comes up – so we were all rather intrigued, and pressed him for the goss’. While he clearly didn’t want to tell us, and became beetroot red with the embarrassment (reminder – write a pamphlet on why embarrassment in unworthy of the TRUE American), eventually he stammered:
‘His name is Robert. He’s an economist in the Department of Labour, and I think I’m in love with him’
You can imagine how shocked we all were. No, horrified and disgusted is probably a more accurate description of our feelings. No one knew what to say (not even Peikoff – for a change!!!!), until I broke the silence.
‘A Keynesian, Greenspan? Have you gone completely mad? Why can’t you find yourself a real man? An industrialist, a banker or a businessman? Someone who embodies the highest virtues: productive genius, energy, initiative, independence and courage. This … this ‘functionary’ you’ve latched yourself onto is nothing more than a cog in the obscene machinery of the state, created with no other purpose than to crush human spirit and freedom and transform true men into mindless automatons. Mark this well, Greenspan: there’s nothing worse than a Keynesian, not even a Red!’
I could tell I’d upset him. He was shivering with rage, and tears were welling up in his eyes.
‘I don’t care! I don’t care, even if he is a Red’, Greenspan squealed, ‘as long as he’s Pink in the middle!’.
He broke down sobbing, and rushed out of the room. I started to say something, but the look on Peikoff’s face told me I mightn’t be a very good idea. A lesser person, a serf, say, or a European, could easily have felt guilt at this point. Luckily I’m a fully moral and independent person, and have learned (from the marvellous ‘Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway’ – definitely a must for any discerning Objectivist) to “own” my own feelings, so I knew better.
The rest of the night passed tolerably, even if Greenspan’s girlish tears did put a bit of a dampener on the celebrations. I patched things up with him, and we agreed not to mention his unspeakable flirtation with collectivism again. Barbara Brandon brought out a tray of Pina Coladas, and we all had a bit too much to drink. I think Nathaniel might have a bit of a crush on me (sweet, but double-ugh!!! He’s far too young for me!!!!!!). He kept staring at me during my party piece, where I stand on the kitchen table and belt out that old Objectivist disco anthem ‘I Will Survive’. Barbara certainly wasn’t pleased. I overheard the two of them arguing in the kitchen later on, although my name wasn’t specifically mentioned (that might have made things awkward – just a little!!!!!!). Ha! Maybe the smug marrieds aren’t as smugly happy as they make out they are. Serves them right for not realising that true happiness comes from the state of consciousness which proceeds from the achievement of one’s values. Idiots!
Managed to make it home somehow, and passed out on the sofa. Before falling asleep, it occurred to me that to say “I love you” one must first be able to say “I”. However, I can say “I”, so why can’t I (or even “I”) find a boyfriend? Is it because my bum is so big?