Adam Shrugs

In the illustrious history of the Razor, there have been many, many times where I started a post, deleted it, re-wrote it, re-deleted, until I finally got it right. Long time readers might posit that there have been many posts that I should've deleted and I rarely "got it right". They are encouraged to keep their thoughts to themselves. With that said, there has never been a more troublesome post than the one I've been trying to write about my experience in Belize with an Ayn Rand novel. In most cases when I can't write something the way it needs to be written I just move on, but this topic has been bedeviling me since the summer to the point that I'm just going to throw it up as is and wash my hands of the matter.

A couple years ago I took a mini-vacation to Belize all by myself. I flew down there, rented a little cabana in the Jungle, and chilled out. It was quiet, it was beautiful, and it was very relaxing. One day I went repelling over a cliff, but beyond that I just laid around and read Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand. It was very nearly a spiritual experience. The book clocks in at over 1000 pages and is sort of a Libertarian manifesto. I loved it.

When I reminisce about that trip, I recall how good the food was, how much I liked the country, how much fun I had repelling, but more than anything I enjoyed laying in a hammock outside by cabana and reading that book. At night I retreated into by cabana, lit the kerosene lamp and read until I fell asleep. Surrounded by the sounds of the jungle, no cellphone service, no schedule, it was the height of relaxation. In my mind, it was the perfect environment to read about the dangers of Government intervention in the economy and the problems caused by the mentality of "fairness".

Reading that book, in that setting, cemented my belief that each man is responsible for his own success or failure. I should depend only on myself for food, shelter, and happiness, and if I depend upon some outside entity to provide for me, I risk losing everything if they fail. I'm not being cynical with those thoughts (I hope!). I depend upon my friends and family for love and companionship. I depend upon other people for various things, but ultimately I depend only on myself to ensure that I am happy and have a good life.

And if I was dependent on the government to provide for my well-being, I would be working 24 hours a day, 7 days a week to become self sufficient. The government will always over promise and under deliver. It will never exceed expectations. Generally, the Government's inpact on my life is either neutral or adversarial, but very rarely positive. I do not fault those dependent on Government, but I also do not envy them.

Getting on to the point of this post, whenever I think of Belize and that trip, I think of Ayn Rand's book and her philosophy. So I was quite amused when I read this quote:

"I would give the greatest sunset in the world for one sight of
New York's skyline. Particularly when one can't see the details.
Just the shapes. The shapes and the thought that made them.
The sky over New York and the will of man made visible. What
other religion do we need? And then people tell me about
pilgrimages to some dank pesthole in a jungle where they go to
do homage to a crumbling temple, to a leering stone monster
with a pot belly, created by some leprous savage. Is it beauty
and genius they want to see? Do they seek a sense of the
sublime? Let them come to New York, stand on the shore of the
Hudson, look and kneel. When I see the city from my window -
no, I don't feel how small I am - but I feel that if a war came to
threaten this, I would throw myself into space, over the city, and
protect these buildings with my body." Ayn Rand

Ironic? Her idea was that the ultimate achievement of mankind is embodied in our ability to progress, to innovate, and to always move civilization forward and that the ultimate illustration of our advancement is shown in the skyline of modern cities. I'm not so sure I disagree with her on that point, but I find it funny that I had to "take a pilgrimage to some dank pesthole in a jungle where they go to do homage to a crumbling temple, to a leering stone monster with a pot belly, created by some leprous savage" to finally have time to read her book.

Thanks you for your time. I appreciate that this post might be interesting only to me, but it has been eating at my soul for months now and I feel a great burden has been lifted as I finally put the matter to bed. Tune in next time when I resume telling you how I embarrassed myself in a unique way or handled a situation quite poorly.