3 Ring Binder

William Ernest Henley (1849-1903) Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.

I could hardly believe it! That was my daughter’s initial reaction upon seeing that our local ski area had used snow machines to cover the “mountain” in white. Instead of asking what she could have possibly meant by that, I began to lecture her on the achievement of man-made snow, about the business of running a ski area, and on the exceptional ingenuity of man. I then questioned her, rapid-fire of course, if she’d rather see cave people dancing naked around a campfire chanting to the snow gods, if she’d rather the ski area was boarded up and closed, how she could possibly see man-made snow as sad. I like snow that comes down from the sky.   I like to walk around in it. Oh. Still – I went on to explain the difference between the lovely serendipity of walking in the snow, which I also enjoy, and the business considerations of a ski area. I quickly began to question why I became so animated at her initial reaction. There are too many people who hold the attitude that man-made i...

How sharp the look of leverage may seem, With narrowed eyes belying wisdom won, And tightly drawn, a smile whose act would deem, To speak content , his will on others – done. How large this victor bears his confidence, How brief this staged event until it’s learned, His stolen gains’ required consequence – Their use destroyed as they could not be earned. No pretense, envy, nor excuse conceived Production which is far beyond that ken; Yet driven to live, ideas from whom achieved The known, this world – the other kind of men. And thus, by those, who this will understand, Is shared the name, the glory, that is Man. “Francisco, where are they now – the other kind of men?” “Now they’re not wanted.” “I want them. Oh God, how I want them!” “When you do, you’ll find them.”   Dagny and Francisco in Atlas Shrugged

Stephen and I spent this last week at the Objectivist Conference ( OCON ) in Boston. We started out the week staying in town, but finished it off commuting. As we stayed at the Seaport Hotel at the beginning of the week when we knew almost no one, we didn’t take advantage of the social atmosphere, but were happily sequestered in our room. After getting to know a few people, we dined, drank, and were generally merry with those few. Through the classes, general sessions, and referenced symposiums (in the ancient Greek sense), I left with a calmer sense of purpose, renewed motivation, and a smoldering desire to make the world a better place. By firmly placing the moral foundation under the tremendous achievements of the Founding Fathers first in my own mind, I then hope to help do so in the minds of others who have chosen the fundamental alternative to live, turning that smolder into a bonfire. One of the most immediately motivating things I learned at OCON this week regards the light tha...