Today would have been Ayn Rand's 102nd birthday. I never met her - she died when I was twelve - but she had a very profound effect on my life. I read Atlas Shrugged when I was 14 and something about it struck a chord, even though I was too young and too screwed up to know what that thing was. In that book, I saw man as a heroic being; I saw a dream of how life ought to be.
Over the years, I gobbled up her other novels - Anthem, The Fountainhead, We The Living - over and over again; never comprehending the scope of her philosophy. It has only been during this millenium I discovered her non-fiction works, and the works of her intellectual heirs. My life has been better because of it.
Thank you, Ms. Rand, and even though you're gone... Happy Birthday.
(And if you're interested in learning more: A Brief Biography of Ayn Rand)
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