Umm, is this John Galt guy related to Sam Wurzelbacher by chance?

Because I don’t wanna go John Galt, I wanna go Joe The Plumber. I wanna make a complete ass of myself, get feted by the likes of Malkin and McCain, take a trip to Israel, scream at some clouds and openly and unashamedly admit my deep-seated ignorance on all things in the most embarrassing way possible.

And to you Miss Marin, just put down that ol’ firin’ iron and back away slowly ma’am, we don’t wanna see nobody get all shot up in heah!

Could someone explain how an adult “threatening” to go Galt is any different than a six year old “threatening” to run away from home?

OK, with the kid you’d be worried that something happened to him if he tried it, but other than that, I got nuthin’.

Maybe this is part of Obama’s plan. WATBs run off to the hills in a huff. While Galting in the wilds, not only do they open up the job market, but they die of malnutrition, exposure, eating/drinking bad food/water, bear bite, snake bite, moose bite.

As anyone who read my recent moose blog would know, moose are very picky eaters.  I can’t imagine them ever wanting to bite a Galt-ist.  The bitter flavor would be totally unappetizing.  Kick them hard, maybe, but bite?  Never.

marindenver, Betty Cracker (and, of course, Scooter):

Just heard the radio show. Outstanding! You had me at “goat-rape.”

I usually don’t make this offer to people I expect to interact with in the future—but, give me an hour of your time, a six-pack and a trampoline…and I’ll show you what made Mr. Whipple squeeze the Charmin.

It was THAT good. Bravo!

Who is John Galt? John Galt is the out-of-work machinist who shovels my sidewalk, hates me for having a freelance career in advertising, and secretly fantasizes about making a million dollars with a really shitty board-game he calls “Whizzo” and using the money to go back in time to buy sex with a 15-year-old Traci Lords.

Ayn Rand wrote dreary, picture-less comic books that gave frustrated night-janitors a philosophical premise for feeling superior and justifying hand-lotion masturbation in the girl’s gym locker-room as a requirement for self-actualization.

Ayn Rand can bite the hairy magic wand.

. . . a . . trampoline???

Strange, it would be tons of fun to do a big group talk jam with everyone - especially if we could all actually hear each other!  (Scooter srsly needs to address that issue with the quipmnt)

I can’t imagine them ever wanting to bite a Galt-ist.  The bitter flavor would be totally unappetizing.

@marindenver

Unless everyone calls in on an ISDN or T3 line, the whole cross-talk thing gets weird. In defense of Scooter and KPFT, the average broadcast booth really isn’t set-up to handle a land-line conference-call. Plus, it really helps if you’re jamming with people you’re used to interacting with in the real-world. Timing and rhythm are things you can’t improvise. 

And, yes, without the trampoline, the 60 beer-fueled minutes I advertised would be indistinguishable from the routine breakfast-hour here at Casa del Strange. Absent a reciprocating bounce-machine, I’m as un-fun as dinner with a tax accountant.

Galt’s Gulch
productivity’s mulch
revenge upon the Useless Eaters
a high-band woofer needs no tweeters

withdrawing from Society
we take a giant, golden pee
on those who parasited freely
oh, shit—there goes our income, really

A møøse once bit my sister.

Yes, an apology for the fault in the subtitles is severely needed.  And Strange, tax accountants know how to have fun after April 15!

oh, shit—there goes our income, really

Very nice once again HobosFaces!  Yes, sorry, Galters, leave - make no money and helplessly watch your investments tank. Stay - keep making money, pay a little more in taxes, feel a lot better about yourselves.

@marindenver—Ooops. I meant “quality assurance engineer,” not “tax accountant.”

Damn typos.

marindenver, it sounds like the martini worked! Our computer collapsed in a heap yesterday, and I missed your and Betty’s star turn, and the goat rape, and everything.

Evidently, if you don’t defragment your hard drive from time to time, it bursts, spatters silicone across the walls, and you have to pick shards out of your peripherals with tweezers. So take a lesson from us, unless you want your computer to be given an all-day G.I. Series as ours just was. It’s plenty ugly.

But it’s cheering to come back and find so many Republicans are talking of clearing out. Going Galt sounds like an excellent shithead-abatement plan. Thank you, Ayn Rand.

She first annoyed me with the Fountainhead, after I realized that the architecture for which she had such contempt was exactly the stuff I liked. I next was annoyed by her grandiose, overwrought, breathless, airless style, like Nancy Drew in Joan of Ark drag. Then it was irritating that her heroes were always the same: contemptuous, pitiless, and humorless.

The film version of The Fountainhead is the worst piece of shit. I’ve pointed this out to numerous Rand-ophiles over the years, and they all screech that it’s not her fault, the studio wrecked it!

Suggesting that they didn’t really understand the message of the book at all. Shouldn’t she have grown a pair of ovaries and burned fucking Warner Bros. to the ground for destroying her vision?

A question: In Atlas Sharted, don’t all the cool kids go live in a big fancy commune where they scoff at the proles and fuck like MyIQ at a goat farm?*

‘Cos I suspect that’s why they’re so eager to head for the hills. Boy will they be disappointed.

*I once tried to read AsS to impress someone. Before the second chapter I was tired of the person because I was tired of the book.

HTP—I actually almost finished Atlas Shrugged while in college, but gave up somewhere in the final sermonizing.  Now Ayn Rand and Jesus are the only two favorite authors that will lead me to instantly dismiss someone.

I once tried to read AsS to impress someone

I read Ayn’s novels before I was 14 and loved them. They are   children’s reading, very comic-bookesque.  Mrs Polly mentioned Nancy Drew, good analogy.

The characters are uncomplicated, the plots are linear, the antagonists are grotesque, one dimensional, almost mentally retarded yet they are always in power. Ayn Rand wrote the original screenplay for Idiocracy FOUR TIMES!

The romantic action boils down to the Male protagonists ravishing (polite for raping) the heroines (Ayn Projections) so there’s your female libtard sexual worldview.

Ayn Rands idealized sex is

NO NO
taKE YOUR HANDS OFF ME

HAIR GRABBINNG, GRASPING
stop i’M BEGGING YOU
sTOP
PLPEASE DON’T
PLEASE
dON’T
pLEASE
Please
Please
Oh yeah
Do me…

Ayn is a sick chick, and come to think of it, not good reading for pubescent males looking for masculine role models.

But this sort of caveman sexuality is what you get from an advocate of social Darwinism, and a girl who see’s everything strictly in black and white terms.

It’s the same stoopidity that all ideologies produce, ridiculous caricatures of reality.

Way back in Civics class, we were taught that Politics is the allocation of resources.  So politics by that definition includes the economy. All successful governing entities are anti-ideology, they are dynamic systems that seek to control input - output and keep the peace by maintaining some sort of stability along with a rational and marginally just allocation of resources.

It’s no secret why the Rockefellors and other industrialists were behind the New Deal.  There is no continuity of large concntrations of wealth in smoldering rubblism, post apocalyptic economies, or armed revolutionary adjustments.

The world is a complicated place, and economics makes Quantum Physics seem tic-tac-toe by comparison.

Ayn Rand knew less about Capitalism, Industries, Democracy, Freedom, and business than Calvin or Hobbes.

Her novels are exercises in childlike fantasy worldviews, she is an embarrassment to rational atheism, and her objectivism is an embarrassment to philosophy.

And I’d like to point out that I got married late in life, and had a very satisfying and rewarding sex life with many many really great, beautiful, smart, astounding women, many of whom were way out of my league.  The secret to my success was to NEVER hard sell, and NEVER EVER get physically aggressive or threatening with a woman, so if my experience is any guideline, poor Ayn couldn’t even unravel fundamental sexual behavior.

My guess is that she attracted some REALLY CREEPY aweful mates, so hah hah Ayn, there really IS a GAWD!

also

Pumaliscious

Is that Daisey Taggert I see?

Ooops. I meant “quality assurance engineer,” not “tax accountant.”

Damn typos.

This is where I tell my accountant joke.

“What is an actuary?”
“Someone who didn’t have enough personality to be a CPA.”

Told at CPA continuing education seminars on a regular basis to gales of appreciative laughter.

Which is why I don’t hang out with them much either. ;-)