The Comprachicos: A Story of my "Conversion"

[studiodekadent]

I wish to tell the story of my 'conversion' to Objectivism.

I shudder to use the language of evangelicals to describe what happened to me, but I think it is fair to say that such experiences of being 'born again' are not the monopoly of the Cult of Christ. Im sure any person feels this way when they adopt an integrated worldview.

As Rand herself observed, humans need principles. They need a way to make decisions. In the end, this adds up to a need for a philosophy, conscious or subconscious. Fulfilling this need (regardless of the philosophy that does the fulfilling) tends to give one a sense of confidence and empowerment. Christianity likes to ascribe a mystic source for it; 'being filled by the Holy Spirit,' but us Objectivists know that the reasons for this feeling are most earthly: we need these principles to cope with the basic tasks of remaining in existence.

I think everyone here has a conversion story and I would like to hear it.

But now, on to mine.

I first read Rand in the last quarter of my final year in High School (I think it was 2003). At that time, I was [whiny goth sob story] suicidal and an emotional wreck. For some reason that I simply did not understand, I was a social outcast. I had already realized that I was a nonconformist, and the society I existed in was conformist. But I did not understand why! I simply believed that 'thats how I am.' This belief, that I was essentially damned to social ostracism, gave me a sense of hopelessness. I felt two things simultaneously: something about me was wrong... defective.... abnormal... and something about my tormentors was also wrong... deeply, deeply wrong.... yet I could not put my finger on it. I knew it had something to do with thinking for oneself... but what? I did it, they didnt, why was I still being tormented? I thought, initially, that what the peer group (that pack of wolves) wanted was merely my outer conformity but that didnt work! I still was hated. Maybe it was due to my inability at sport (Australia is a sport-obsessed society unfortunately)... but not all the populars were (to use the American term) 'Jocks.' In my mind, it was only a matter of time before I was lying in the bloodsoaked bathtub, wrists slit, screaming as my last words "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!?!??????!!!???!?!???!!!!!!??" (And damn, thats some good imagery). [/whiny goth sob story]

Into that emotional climate was injected Ayn Rand. My father gave me his old copy of Capitalism, the Unknown Ideal.... I honestly consider this the greatest thing he ever did for me. The power of her words just resonated with me on every emotional level..... I mean, I was already politically a classical liberal (economics class at High School) and at least subconsciously I had some sort of enlightenment-modern outlook (I mean, her metaphysics and the basics of her epistemology seemed very 'common sense' to me).. but I never really identified this.... Rand's philosophy, which I read before her fiction, was so incredible in many ways.... and her ethics, her ethics were so shocking and challenging and beyond seductive in nature. They went against so many things I was told, but agreed with so many things I had implicitly believed in... i.e. there is nothing wrong with advancing oneself assuming you do not harm others in the process.

To Objectivists, this kind of reaction is usually very familiar: its called a sense-of-life identification with Objectivism. Its often the reaction that soon-to-be-Objectivists-or-Friends-of-Objectivism have upon exposure to Ayn Rand.

I read Anthem, then The Fountainhead, then Atlas. In all three books, I saw a vision of life that was almost the opposite of what mine was.... I saw the potential for unorthodox, freethinking individuals to thrive and find joy and fulfillment, rather than suffer under the choking mass of barbed wire that was my previous existence. It was so incredibly beautiful.... but even then I did not exactly embrace the whole system, I considered myself a Friend of Objectivism rather than an Objectivist at the time.

It was the essay "The Comprachicos" that completed the job. The essay identified precisely what the peer-group-pack-of-wolves loathed me for.....

"It is the little 'misfits' that have the best chance to recover...The children who did not conform, the children who endure (three) years of agonizing misery, loneliness, confusion, abuse by the teachers and by their 'peers'.... but remain aloof and withdrawn, unable to give in, unable to fake, armed with nothing but the knowlege that there is something wrong with that (nursery) school" (Ignore the bracketed words, it applies to high school too).

"The nonconformists are heroic little martyrs who are given no credit by no one....not even by themselves, since they cannot identify the nature of their battle. They do not have the conceptual knowlege nor the introspective skill to grasp that they are unable and unwilling to accept anything without understanding it, and that they are holding to the sovereignty of their own judgement against the terrifying pressure of everyone around him."

"A thinking child cannot conform: thought does not bow to authority. The resentment of the pack towards independence and intelligence is older than progressive education; it is an ancient evil."

(About trying to conform, which I tried) "He never succeeds and is left wondering helplessly: "What is wrong with me?" "What do I lack?" "What do they want?""

I was loathed for my independent thought. My unwillingness to be their slave. And for years, I thought I had the defect.... When reading those passages, I suddenly saw the hideous, disgusting monsters that were my tormentors, the absolute evil they represent... the disease from which the world could die... spread by my school, infected almost everyone but me.... it was a moment of total clarity.... and I cried. It was so absolutely true, it identified the sufferring I endured, the cause, and how people like me werent the problem at all. My perceived "original sin" of individuality was rendered a virtue, and a huge, heavy weight was lifted off of me. It was at that moment I knew that my philosophy was Objectivism.

With that, I began a phoenix from the ashes style resurrection. My self-esteem returned, my absolute apathy towards the judgements of others, it was like I was now indestructible! Im sure you are all familiar with these feelings of empowerment, but for me to experience them after more than a decade of total disempowerment, was incredible to say the least.

Any comments and thoughts? And anyone else want to share their stories?

[Mikee]

Good story. I like your quotes. They hit you like a brick don't they? BAM!

Best wishes,

-Mike Erickson

[Ross Barlow]

My “conversion” to objectivism came when I was 17 in 1967. I was raised in a fundamentalist Christian family and always had taken my religion seriously. The trouble was, I was always a reality-based thinker. E.g., I liked the Bible story of Gideon, who asked for definitive proof before believing and acting. As I grew older and read the Bible more, I started to see the intense *certainty* in faith of those around me to be hypocrisy.

One of my aunts was a scandal in our family because she explicitly called herself an “atheist,” as did her husband and at least one of her sons. Yet they were good people, honest, caring, intelligent and open-minded. They had a genuine smile for everyone. Atheism did not seem to me to be the evil doctrine everyone said it was.

Then, in April 1967, *Life* magazine had an article entitled “The Cult of Angry Ayn Rand,” which was the first time I had ever heard that name. (Ironically, this article has just been discussed recently on another thread.) The article was not positive, but it made me very curious. First, it talked about Objectivists as atheists who, despite being generally rude bastards, strongly believed in a moral code. Secondly, Rand’s fictional characters were *heroes*, and I was always a huge fan of heroes. Third, Rand was an advocate of *individualism*, both in the sense of the individual marching to his own drummer and in the sense of political individualism, i.e., individual rights and laissez-faire. Holy Shit, this sounded very intriguing. I did not look into Rand’s writings right away, though.

That summer, my best friend was killed in an accident, and this made me think very intensely about death and the hereafter, etc. Tony was never religious, in fact he scorned all religious beliefs, thus he was a candidate for Hell according to my religious upbringing. I immediately thought that this was preposterous and that any god who created such a situation would have to be a monster. The whole house of cards that had been my faith fell.

I remember thinking: maybe I am an atheist, because this whole god-guy stuff just seems so childish. I did not know much about atheism, but I remembered that article about Randian atheism. I found it, re-read it, and went out and bought a copy of *The Fountainhead*. Then *Atlas Shrugged* and the rest. I subscribed to *The Objectivist*. My senior year in high school was one in which I really received an education for the first time, thanks to Rand.

In 1968, right before I went into the Marine Corps, “the Split” occurred, but I was not too surprised because there always seemed to be a air of cultishness about official Objectivism that was very apparent to me. I had never felt that I really fit into the “Objectivist movement” anyway, but I was an enthusiastic fellow-traveler.

In Vietnam, I had the best library in my outfit, which I kept in ammo crates back on my combat base. It included the bound collection of *The Objectivist Newsletter* and all back issues of *The Objectivist*, plus many philosophy books recommended therein. Whenever I was not out in the field and could take a rest back at base, I devoured these writings. When out on operations, I often carried a paperback copy of *For the New Intellectual* in my pocket. The basic sanity of Rand and the Brandens kept me sane through it all.

-Ross Barlow.

[Danneskjold]

My conversion was interesting as well. From fourth until seventh grade I was a complete outcast in Christian private school. That place sucked, I didn't fit in at all, teachers, students, and the vice principle all hated me. My overall alienation was pretty extreme. My sister lead through that school, the very picture of what their students should have been. She was, and still is, as close to a perfect Christian as I have ever seen anyone come. She can lecture pastors.

The problem with this is that she left the teachers so enamored with the Kremers that they were completely blindsided by me. In fourth and fifth grade I was a bit of a troublemaker. Of course, that's by those standards. In my school I was a troublemaker because I would pick fights, pay more attention to girls than the preachers during chapel, and occasionally the words "hell" and "god" would make their way into my vocabulary in a way other than their designated purpose.

Shit hit the fan in sixth grade. My sister's old favorite teacher was my teacher this year. She learned to dislike me awful quickly. I think it started during the evolution unit. Now, when they say evolution unit they mean "Why evolution is wrong" unit. This is the part where my teacher gives us as many as possible half baked reasons that evolution can't be true. I decided to argue with her. I won.

Seventh grade it was two weeks into school and after having had lunch detention every day but one I got into a fight with the school's vice principle. He grabbed me by my sweatshirt and yelled at me, I told him his school sucked amongst other things. I got pulled out of the school and sent to the local public school. Within a month my popularity at the school was rapidly declining. I made friends with some outcastish eighth graders, most of whom are no longer attending school. Never the less, they contributed to a temporary rebellion against God, and a lot of free thought on my part.

Eighth grade was pretty normal, I managed to get a group of friends with some seventh graders who I thought were cool (most of whom are now calling me judgmental and cocky). It was mid-way through eighth grade when I started really thinking. I was listening to my mom talk about how America is based on Christianity one time and it really got me thinking. I decided in eighth grade that America isn't based on Christianity, I decided that America is based on greed. I told my dad and my math teacher about this revelation. My dad talked to me about Nathaniel Branden. I assume that this is because if he had told me about Rand and I had asked my mom about it she would have flipped out.

A few months later, towards the beginning of my freshman year, my parents gave me some money to go to Borders with. I came back with Atlas Shrugged. I found it while searching for The Historian in the literature section. When I brought it home, my dad couldn't believe it. My mom was pissed. She thought my dad had put me up to it. Within the next five months I read the rest of Rand's fiction.

A few months after that, here I am.

[Chris Grieb]

Jeff and Ross; Interesting stories. Jeff; You keep saying people think you're hard to along with. At least on this forum you come a course as a very pleasant fellow. Is it the fact that this forum is writing rather than speaking. Ross; I guess the story of Gideon is in Judges? Were you in Viet-nam after the Split? Why are you in Thailand?

[Danneskjold]

Chris, it's not so much that we are writing instead of speaking, although I have gone back and edited a few of my posts in order to remove some sarcasm, those are few and far between though. The reason I tend to be hard to get along with is that I tend to refuse to get along. You may have noticed by now a certain amount of hostility towards the average kid my age . Here we are very like minded. I respect all the regulars of this forum and conduct myself accordingly. The same cannot be said for my fellow students and a good number of my teachers (one example would be my spanish teacher who has posters of Fidel Castro and Che Guevara in the back of the classroom).

[Michael Stuart Kelly]

The same cannot be said for my fellow students and a good number of my teachers (one example would be my spanish teacher who has posters of Fidel Castro and Che Guevara in the back of the classroom).

Jeff,

Well, at least your Spanish teacher got one thing right. Fidel Castro and Che Guevara both spoke Spanish.

I've had teachers who were poor on something even as basic as that.

Michael

[Ross Barlow]

Chris asked:

<<Ross; I guess the story of Gideon is in Judges? Were you in Viet-nam after the Split? Why are you in Thailand?>>

Yes, Gideon is one of the heroes of the Book of Judges.

I entered Marine Corps Boot Camp in early November 1968, and the Split was announced well before that. I was in Vietnam from Spring of 1969 to Spring of 1970.

I am in Thailand because my wife is native Thai, I am retired and I am studying Theravada Buddhism.

-Ross Barlow.

[Chris Grieb]

Ross; The split don't occur much before you went to VietNam. There are two groups of people who attended NBI course who I would like to meet at least one of each. One of the sailors abroad the Polaris sub and soldiers in Viet-Nam who were offered the tapes at reduced price and took the courses during the war. I thought you might be one of the latter group.