Just in from the “Well No Shit” department is some news that I find shocking. Just shocking, I tell ya. “The Black Eyed Peas are terrible” you yell eagerly. Well…yes, no shit. But I was thinking of something else. It turns out Ayn Rand, contributor to the moronic myth of the self-made man, was a bit of a parasite:
An interview with Evva Pryror, a social worker and consultant to Miss Rand’s law firm of Ernst, Cane, Gitlin and Winick verified that on Miss Rand’s behalf she secured Rand’s Social Security and Medicare payments which Ayn received under the name of Ann O’Connor (husband Frank O’Connor).
As Pryor said, “Doctors cost a lot more money than books earn and she could be totally wiped out” without the aid of these two government programs. Ayn took the bail out even though Ayn “despised government interference and felt that people should and could live independently… She didn’t feel that an individual should take help.”
Nothing so embodies the philosophy of self reliance like her novel Atlas Shrugged — which according to the Survey of Lifetime Reading Habits (conducted by the Library of Congress’ Center for the Book) was #2 in the list of books that had most influenced the lives of the survey takers. The top spot belonged to The Bible. I can’t help but think that those two books would be further down the list if more people spent time with another important book — The Dictionary.
Haha! Who am I kidding? We’re talking about people that must hate reading. Also, it’s so much harder to be confused about the definitions of words like rape — or to tangentially link anything and everything with the “evils” of Socialism — when your brain is all filled with knowledge.
Of course, all the knowledge in the world will not stop you from being a massive hypocrite. But that’s not the point, right? Ol’ Ayn’s use of government assistance is not surprising. She’s in good company with the conservatives who whine about big government spending while supporting fiscal policies that drive up the debt, or the ones who champion family values before stopping by the local airport bathroom for a man-on-man servicing, or every Tea Party asshole that complains about anything ever.
No, the reality is this — it’s about talking the talk not walking the walk. The latter is for the fucking birds.
“Maybe there are some out there that do walk the walk,” you say earnestly.
Perhaps, dear reader, but they are rare. They share the company of elusive beasts whose balls are hairier than yours truly. And they are only caught on film by those of unsteady hands.