Dec
12
Public servant.
Filed Under Politics, Print Media | 2 Comments
I’ve been rereading Atlas Shrugged for the past few weeks. Partly because the library has been so awful lately at supplying me with things to read (or, more to the point, other library patrons are awful at returning the books I requested on time; I’ve only received Jess Walter’s latest, The Zero, over the past four or five weeks). Partly because I, like Dale, need to reread Atlas Shrugged every so often, albeit for different reasons. And partly because, commuting on the bus as I am, I need a thick book to stave off boredom. One result of a month of Ayn Rand, however, is that I’ve been a little edgy about the act of praising government officials.
The above paragraph is intended to help you, dear reader, understand why I’m taking issue with Ritchie’s use of the phrase “public servants” in his latest missive.
Or would be taking issue, if I was feeling more articulate. But instead, I’m going to let the Fugees’ tunes wash over me as I decompress from a middling job interview. Enjoy the silence.
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I’ll read Ritchie’s blog and comment on the use of “public servants” in a minute, but I just need to point out something else first.
So, you god-damned leech– you’re reading books from the library! Do you know how you got that book? Hard-working capitalists who do the ultimate good by making money were forced by a robber-mooch government to give part of that money that they earned by the sweat of their brow to the county and city. Then the county and city took that stolen money and built the library and bought those books. You, by using the library, are participating in that theft. You didn’t earn that book! You do not deserve to read that book unless you buy it with money you earned! For shame, for shame!
[...] As I mentioned before, the Seattle Public Library has been a bit stingy lately about getting me the books I requested. So I’ve been digging into my own library. I finished Ender’s Game for the third time today. And started Siddhartha for the third time. The former is a lovely book, full of excitement, adventure, and really wild things. The latter, however, is one that I’ve never been able to get into. For some reason, Hesse has this tendency to put me to sleep, such that I’ve never made it even through the first fifty pages of Siddhartha. Today was no exception. I fell asleep on the bus somewhere around 45th, and woke up somewhere around 145th. I had to walk back down to 127th in my semi-dress shoes, which are poorly constructed, awful walkers, and not good in inclement weather. That added another fifteen minutes or so to the journey. [...]