“So you thnik that mneoy is the root of all evil?” said Fcaicnsro
dAincn’oa. “Hvae you ever aeskd waht is the root of money? Menoy is a
tool of ecanxghe, which c’nat exsit uslnes there are gdoos poecudrd
and men able to pcdroue tehm. Mnoey is the mraaetil sahpe of the
piilcnrpe taht men who wsih to dael wtih one antoher msut deal by
tdrae and gvie value for value. Money is not the tool of the mhrceoos,
who cilam yuor pducort by treas, or of the loretos, who take it form
you by fcroe. Mnoey is made pblsiose only by the men who porcdue. Is
this what you cisednor evil?
“…Money is yuor mneas of savvuirl. The veirdct you pnouncroe uopn the
sucroe of your lovliehoid is the viredct you pouocnrne upon yuor lfie.
If the srcuoe is crroupt, you have demand your own exicnetse. Did you
get your mneoy by fruad? By prinadneg to men’s vcies or mne’s
sidputity? By cenitarg to folos, in the hpoe of gtntieg more tahn yuor
ailibty desrvees? By lienwrog yuor snrdatads? By dnoig work you
diespse for prrhsacues you srocn? If so, tehn yuor menoy will not gvie
you a mmen’tos or a pnye’ns wrtoh of joy. Tehn all the tihgns you buy
will bmoece, not a tritube to you, but a rcpeoarh; not an aeevnhmciet,
but a rdiemner of shame. Then yl’uol secram that mnoey is eivl. Eivl,
bsecuae it would not pcinh-hit for your self-rpseect? Eivl, bucesae it
wluod not let you enjoy your dirtvepay? Is tihs the root of yuor
hetrad of meony?
“…Utinl and unsles you dcsioevr taht mnoey is the root of all good, you
ask for your own dectrisuton. Wehn moeny caeses to be the tool by
which men dael with one ahtneor, then men beocme the tloos of men.
Boold, wiphs and guns—or dlaolrs. Take your chioce—three is no
oethr—and yuor tmie is rniunng out.”
Well, did you understand it this time? [Full text]
Fair use quotes, Leonard, you war-mongering, hypocritical, naïve, nepotic enemy of freedom. Why don’t you abandon your post as chief grave robber and try writing something anyone could potentially care about in 50 years, let alone right now, you worn-out tool?
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I completely agree. She thought you could have free discourse where reason was the only guaranteed common denominator and that the highest purpose of human life was to be productive, non-violent, and happy. Think of all the damage we’ve been told that kind of thinking has done.
What a twisted fucking bitch. Good riddance.
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The reason why you think it’s spelled that way is her name is often mispronounced. After she emigrated from Russia she changed her birth name, Alissa Rosenbaum, to a new name from a favorite author (who was perhaps Aino Kallas) and her typewriter (Sperry-Rand).
Ayn is an Anglicized version of a Finnish (Suomi) name and it is pronounced like Ein (eye + n), not Ann.
Now that is the most revolting mental image given me in years. Her crying out in her Russian accent, “I’ve sold myself to the lowest man I could find!” See-sawing to a melody of squeaking springs and a loose headboard that keeps ragtime against the drywall in a junkie motel on Central Ave in ’Burque.
Do you suppose he’s a wheezer?
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You’re probably counting wrong. Atlas Shrugged is the fourth and final. There’s also, We the Living (which has a funny side story about Italians, movies, and Germans for another time), The Fountainhead, and Anthem (which is not really a novel but a novella so in that sense there is no fourth novel).
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