Existence exists?

[Alfonso Jones]

Do you believe that when Dagny said she had never felt anything at all, that was a sincere reflection of her experience (we are both now of course speaking of the fictional character as if she were real now)? Or was she being sarcastic with her brother? I think the latter is far more credible.

I don't think Dagny was being sarcastic when she said that.

I now offer a key passage in which Hank Rearden and his brother have a confrontation. It starts with Philip speaking:

"One's supposed to have some sort of feeling for one's brother."

"Do you?"

Philip's mouth swelled petulantly; he did not answer; he waited; Rearden let him wait. Philip muttered, "You're supposed … at least … to have some consideration for my feelings… but you haven't."

"Have you for mine?"

"Yours? Your feelings?" It was not malice in Philip's voice, but worse: it was a genuine, indignant astonishment. "You haven't any feelings. You've never felt anything at all. You've never suffered!"

It was as if a sum of years hit Rearden in the face, by means of a sensation and a sight: the exact sensation of what he had felt in the cab of the first train's engine on the John Galt Line—and the sight of Philip's eyes, the pale; half-liquid eyes presenting the uttermost of human degradation: an uncontested pain, and, with the obscene insolence of a skeleton toward a living being, demanding that this pain be held as the highest of values. You've never suffered, the eyes were saying to him accusingly—while he was seeing the night in his office when his ore mines were taken away from him—the moment when he had signed the Gift Certificate surrendering Rearden Metal—the month of days inside a plane that searched for the remains of Dagny's body. You've never suffered, the eyes were saying with self-righteous scorn—while he remembered the sensation of proud chastity with which he had fought through those moments, refusing to surrender to pain, a sensation made of his love, of his loyalty, of his knowledge that joy is the goal of existence, and joy is not <as_857> to be stumbled upon, but to be achieved, and the act of treason is to let its vision drown in the swamp of the moment's torture. You've never suffered, the dead stare of the eyes was saying, you've never felt anything, because only to suffer is to feel—there's no such thing as joy, there's only pain and the absence of pain, only pain and the zero, when one feels nothing—I suffer, I'm twisted by suffering, I'm made of undiluted suffering, that's my purity, that's my virtue—and yours, you the untwisted one, you the uncomplaining, yours is to relieve me of my pain—cut your unsuffering body to patch up mine, cut your unfeeling soul to stop mine from feeling—and we'll achieve the ultimate ideal, the triumph over life, the zero! He was seeing the nature of those who, for centuries, had not recoiled from the preachers of annihilation—he was seeing the nature of the enemies he had been fighting all his life.

"Philip," he said, "get out of here." His voice was like a ray of sunlight in a morgue, it was the plain, dry, daily voice of a businessman, the sound of health, addressed to an enemy one could not honor by anger, nor even by horror. "And don't ever try to enter these mills again, because there will be orders at every gate to throw you out, if you try it."

"Well, after all," said Philip, in the angry and cautious tone of a tentative threat, "I could have my friends assign me to a job here and compel you to accept it!"

Rearden had started to go, but he stopped and turned to look at his brother.

Philip's moment of grasping a sudden revelation was not accomplished by means of thought, but by means of that dark sensation which was his only mode of consciousness: he felt a sensation of terror, squeezing his throat, shivering down into his stomach—he was seeing the spread of the mills, with the roving streamers of flame, with the ladles of molten metal sailing through space on delicate cables, with open pits the color of glowing coal, with cranes coming at his head, pounding past, holding tons of steel by the invisible power of magnets—and he knew that he was afraid of this place, afraid to the death, that he dared not move without the protection and guidance of the man before him—then he looked at the tall, straight figure standing casually still, the figure with the unflinching eyes whose sight had cut through rock and flame to build this place—and then he knew how easily the man he was proposing to compel could let a single bucket of metal tilt over a second ahead of its time or let a single crane drop its load a foot short of its goal, and there would be nothing left of him, of Philip the claimant—and his only protection lay in the fact that his mind would think of such actions, but the mind of Hank Rearden would not.

"But we'd better keep it on a friendly basis," said Philip.

"You'd better," said Rearden and walked away.

Men who worship pain—thought Rearden, staring at the image of the enemies he had never been able to understand—they're men who worship pain. It seemed monstrous, yet peculiarly devoid of importance. He felt nothing. It was like trying to summon emotion toward inanimate objects, toward refuse sliding down a mountainside to <as_858> crush him. One could flee from the slide or build retaining walls against it or be crushed—but one could not grant any anger indignation or moral concern to the senseless motions of the unliving no worse, he thought—the anti-living.

Now, we could discuss HOW Rearden deals with the pain he has endured and is enduring, or with his anger. Clear "repression" to use the modern jargon. But the notion that Rearden does not feel them - - - doesn't stand up to a reading of the text of Atlas Shrugged.

Bill P

[Alfonso Jones]

I offer another example of Rand's heroes dealing with emotions. This one comes after Galt has been rescued from the torture chamber, and they are flying back to Galt's Gulch:

New York was far behind them, when they heard Danneskjöld answer a call from the radio: "Yes, he's awake. I don't think he'll sleep tonight.… Yes, I think he can." He turned to glance over his shoulder. "John, Dr. Akston would like to speak to you."

"What? Is he on one of those planes behind us?"

"Certainly."

Galt leaped forward to seize the microphone. "Hello, Dr. Akston," he said; the quiet, low tone of his voice was the audible image of a smile transmitted through space.

"Hello, John." The too-conscious steadiness of Hugh Akston's voice confessed at what cost he had waited to learn whether he would ever pronounce these two words again. "I just wanted to hear your voice … just to know that you're all right."

Galt chuckled and—in the tone of a student proudly presenting a completed task of homework as proof of a lesson well learned—he answered, "Of course I am all right, Professor. I had to be. A is A."

Can you read that and not feel the surging emotions?

These are not people who never feel - - - but instead people who feel, based on what they value, at a much deeper level than those who run around continually talking about their emotions and feelings.

Xray - - - I'm not certain if you and I have read the same Ayn Rand.

Bill P

[Xray]

Do you believe that when Dagny said she had never felt anything at all, that was a sincere reflection of her experience (we are both now of course speaking of the fictional character as if she were real now)? Or was she being sarcastic with her brother? I think the latter is far more credible.

I don't think Dagny was being sarcastic when she said that.

Here is the passage under discussion:

She had turned to go, when he spoke again—and what he said seemed bewilderingly irrelevant. "That's all right for you, because you're lucky. Others can't do it."

"Do what?"

"Other people are human. They're sensitive. They can't devote their whole life to metals and engines. You're lucky—you've never had any feelings. You've never felt anything at all."

As she looked at him, her dark gray eyes went slowly from astonishment to stillness, then to a strange expression that resembled a look of weariness, except that it seemed to reflect much more than the endurance of this one moment.

"No, Jim," she said quietly, "I guess I've never felt anything at all."

What do you think explains Dagny's change from astonishment to stillness to reflection of long-standing endurance?

If Dagny never felt anything, then why astonishment at Jim's comment? Why her emotional state at the end of this passage as quoted above?

Bill P

I believe her astonishment came from the fact that Jim had hit the nail on the head with his comment. She did not think much of her brother anyway, and probably hadn't expected him to have much psychological insight, and this surprised her.

By accusing Dagny of never having felt anything at all, imo Jim referred to her lack of empathy.

Is there an extra thread here on the book Atlas Shrugged?

Edited May 3, 2009 by Xray

[Selene]

Bill:

Ready to join the: I refuse wasting my time value movement until xray makes a cursory read of Atlas group?

My eyes still teared up as I read each of you selections Bill.

I seem to remember Hank's reflections of the years of physical, emotional and psychological pain that he went through in building what he built and then calmly looking at the Miracle Metal expropriation document from the government and signing it.

Powerful section.

Adam

Post Script: xray, I believed in the tooth fairy, but I gave it up at about six. I think you do yourself a disservice in the way you are conducting yourself and I will not enable you anymore.

Edited May 3, 2009 by Selene

[Ian]

I now offer a key passage in which Hank Rearden and his brother have a confrontation. It starts with Philip speaking:

"One's supposed to have some sort of feeling for one's brother."

"Do you?"

Philip's mouth swelled petulantly; he did not answer; he waited; Rearden let him wait. Philip muttered, "You're supposed … at least … to have some consideration for my feelings… but you haven't."

"Have you for mine?"

"Yours? Your feelings?" It was not malice in Philip's voice, but worse: it was a genuine, indignant astonishment. "You haven't any feelings. You've never felt anything at all. You've never suffered!"

It was as if a sum of years hit Rearden in the face, by means of a sensation and a sight: the exact sensation of what he had felt in the cab of the first train's engine on the John Galt Line—and the sight of Philip's eyes, the pale; half-liquid eyes presenting the uttermost of human degradation: an uncontested pain, and, with the obscene insolence of a skeleton toward a living being, demanding that this pain be held as the highest of values. You've never suffered, the eyes were saying to him accusingly—while he was seeing the night in his office when his ore mines were taken away from him—the moment when he had signed the Gift Certificate surrendering Rearden Metal—the month of days inside a plane that searched for the remains of Dagny's body. You've never suffered, the eyes were saying with self-righteous scorn—while he remembered the sensation of proud chastity with which he had fought through those moments, refusing to surrender to pain, a sensation made of his love, of his loyalty, of his knowledge that joy is the goal of existence, and joy is not <as_857> to be stumbled upon, but to be achieved, and the act of treason is to let its vision drown in the swamp of the moment's torture. You've never suffered, the dead stare of the eyes was saying, you've never felt anything, because only to suffer is to feel—there's no such thing as joy, there's only pain and the absence of pain, only pain and the zero, when one feels nothing—I suffer, I'm twisted by suffering, I'm made of undiluted suffering, that's my purity, that's my virtue—and yours, you the untwisted one, you the uncomplaining, yours is to relieve me of my pain—cut your unsuffering body to patch up mine, cut your unfeeling soul to stop mine from feeling—and we'll achieve the ultimate ideal, the triumph over life, the zero! He was seeing the nature of those who, for centuries, had not recoiled from the preachers of annihilation—he was seeing the nature of the enemies he had been fighting all his life.

"Philip," he said, "get out of here." His voice was like a ray of sunlight in a morgue, it was the plain, dry, daily voice of a businessman, the sound of health, addressed to an enemy one could not honor by anger, nor even by horror. "And don't ever try to enter these mills again, because there will be orders at every gate to throw you out, if you try it."

Thank you. I had read Ayn Rand's fiction years ago, and had somewhat forgotten how much I loved it and why. I am currently re-reading

Introduction to Objectivist Epistemology,

but Ayn's fiction grabs the emotions big time. After a childhood spent fighting irrational brutality and militant anti-intellectualism, reading Rand made me feel like cheering: Go get 'em, Ayn, sic 'em! I felt avenged.

But, here I am, talking about feelings. Some people seem to have confused Ayn Rand with

Star Trek's

Mr. Spock; as if logic and emotions were mutually exclusive.

Ian.

[Selene]

Bravo Ian!!

Spot on mate!!!

Adam

[Alfonso Jones]

Do you believe that when Dagny said she had never felt anything at all, that was a sincere reflection of her experience (we are both now of course speaking of the fictional character as if she were real now)? Or was she being sarcastic with her brother? I think the latter is far more credible.

I don't think Dagny was being sarcastic when she said that.

Here is the passage under discussion:

She had turned to go, when he spoke again—and what he said seemed bewilderingly irrelevant. "That's all right for you, because you're lucky. Others can't do it."

"Do what?"

"Other people are human. They're sensitive. They can't devote their whole life to metals and engines. You're lucky—you've never had any feelings. You've never felt anything at all."

As she looked at him, her dark gray eyes went slowly from astonishment to stillness, then to a strange expression that resembled a look of weariness, except that it seemed to reflect much more than the endurance of this one moment.

"No, Jim," she said quietly, "I guess I've never felt anything at all."

What do you think explains Dagny's change from astonishment to stillness to reflection of long-standing endurance?

If Dagny never felt anything, then why astonishment at Jim's comment? Why her emotional state at the end of this passage as quoted above?

Bill P

I believe her astonishment came from the fact that Jim had hit the nail on the head with his comment. She did not think much of her brother anyway, and probably hadn't expected him to have much psychological insight, and this surprised her.

By accusing Dagny of never having felt anything at all, imo Jim referred to her lack of empathy.

Is there an extra thread here on the book Atlas Shrugged?

Xray -

Have you ever read Atlas Shrugged - the entire book, not just some quote extracts from here or there? In the last 5 or 10 years? Your commentary here and elsewhere suggests someone who has seen a lot of isolated quotes from Rand (perhaps in a book by somebody else), but has never read Rand.

Bill P

[Xray]

[Bill P]:

Xray -

Have you ever read Atlas Shrugged - the entire book, not just some quote extracts from here or there? In the last 5 or 10 years? Your commentary here and elsewhere suggests someone who has seen a lot of isolated quotes from Rand (perhaps in a book by somebody else), but has never read Rand.

I'm currently reading AS, which is why I asked if there exists a thread here for I would like to dicuss the book chapter by chapter as I read along. I'm not the type who breezes through books - I like to take my time with them - so it will take me a while until I have finished it - but the 'heros' depicted so far imo all show a strange lack of empathy.

Re the passage quoted by you (bolding mine):

You've never suffered, the eyes were saying with self-righteous scorn—while he remembered the sensation of proud chastity with which he had fought through those moments, refusing to surrender to pain, a sensation made of his love, of his loyalty, of his knowledge that joy is the goal of existence, and joy is not <as_857> to be stumbled upon, but to be achieved, and the act of treason is to let its vision drown in the swamp of the moment's torture. You've never suffered, the dead stare of the eyes was saying, you've never felt anything, because only to suffer is to feel—there's no such thing as joy, there's only pain and the absence of pain, only pain and the zero, when one feels nothing—I suffer, I'm twisted by suffering, I'm made of undiluted suffering, that's my purity, that's my virtue—and yours, you the untwisted one, you the uncomplaining, yours is to relieve me of my pain—cut your unsuffering body to patch up mine, cut your unfeeling soul to stop mine from feeling—and we'll achieve the ultimate ideal, the triumph over life, the zero! He was seeing the nature of those who, for centuries, had not recoiled from the preachers of annihilation—he was seeing the nature of the enemies he had been fighting all his life.

Here it is again: the Randian hero's refusal to accept pain as part of life. Instead he feels "proud chastity" in repressing it - almost like a monk would feel "proud chastity" in overcoming his impulses.

"Joy is the goal of existence" - that's the credo Rand's heros seem to cling to. The fact that pain is part of life (and often a life-saver!) just as joy is downright uncacceptable to them - pain is something so dreadful to them that they go right into denial mode.

An strange opposition is constructed between the "sufferer" Philip whose credo is "only to suffer is to feel" and Rearden rejecting it by replacing it with his own, no less odd credo.

Existence has a "goal" ("joy"), it is claimed. Who please sets that goal? How can "existence" be a volitional, goal-seeking entity?

Edited May 7, 2009 by Xray

[Xray]

xray, I believed in the tooth fairy, but I gave it up at about six.

Was it very hard for you to give it up back then? Well, such is life. In the end, we'll have to give up everything. ;)

Edited May 4, 2009 by Xray

[Rich Engle]

The Big Question<tm> gets popped, again:

Existence has a "goal" ("joy"), it is claimed. Who please sets that goal? How can "existence" be a volitional, goal-seeking entity?

Question 1.: You do, if you choose.

Question 2.: By first acknowledging you are in it. Then, if you are yes on question 1, that's what happens. This is a type of living; there are others. I like this one best, it makes me happy.

r

[Alfonso Jones]

[Bill P]:

Xray -

Have you ever read Atlas Shrugged - the entire book, not just some quote extracts from here or there? In the last 5 or 10 years? Your commentary here and elsewhere suggests someone who has seen a lot of isolated quotes from Rand (perhaps in a book by somebody else), but has never read Rand.

I'm currently reading AS, which is why I asked if there exists a thread here for I would like to dicuss the book chapter by chapter as I read along. I'm not the type who breezes through books - I like to take my time with them - so it will take me a while until I have finished it - but the 'heros' depicted so far imo all show a strange lack of empathy.

Re the passage quoted by you (bolding mine):

You've never suffered, the eyes were saying with self-righteous scorn—while he remembered the sensation of proud chastity with which he had fought through those moments, refusing to surrender to pain, a sensation made of his love, of his loyalty, of his knowledge that joy is the goal of existence, and joy is not <as_857> to be stumbled upon, but to be achieved, and the act of treason is to let its vision drown in the swamp of the moment's torture. You've never suffered, the dead stare of the eyes was saying, you've never felt anything, because only to suffer is to feel—there's no such thing as joy, there's only pain and the absence of pain, only pain and the zero, when one feels nothing—I suffer, I'm twisted by suffering, I'm made of undiluted suffering, that's my purity, that's my virtue—and yours, you the untwisted one, you the uncomplaining, yours is to relieve me of my pain—cut your unsuffering body to patch up mine, cut your unfeeling soul to stop mine from feeling—and we'll achieve the ultimate ideal, the triumph over life, the zero! He was seeing the nature of those who, for centuries, had not recoiled from the preachers of annihilation—he was seeing the nature of the enemies he had been fighting all his life.

Here it is again: the Randian hero's refusal to accept pain as part of life. Instead he feels "proud chastity" in repressing it - almost like a monk would feel "proud chastity" in overcoming his impulses.

"Joy is the goal of existence" - that's the credo Rand's heros seem to cling to. The fact that pain is part of life (and often a life-saver!)just as joy is downright uncacceptable to them - pain is something so dreadful to them that they go right into denial mode.

An strange opposition is constructed between the "sufferer" Philip whose credo is "only to suffer is to feel" and Rearden rejecting it by replacing it with his own, no less odd credo.

Existence has a "goal" ("joy"), it is claimed. Who please sets that goal? How can "existence" be a volitional, goal-seeking entity?

Perhaps we are making a little progress. You now clearly see that these heroes did undergo pain.

You are of course right (Rand practically shouts it from the rooftops in The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged, as well as discussing it in her nonfiction) that she didn't accept pain AS THE NORM. Instead, it was something to rise above.

Bill P

[Brant Gaede]

xray, I believed in the tooth fairy, but I gave it up at about six.

Was it very hard for you to give it up back then? Well, such is life. In the end, we'll have to give up everything. ;)

Obviously he gave it up when there was no more money in it for him.

--Brant

[Alfonso Jones]

I'm currently reading AS, which is why I asked if there exists a thread here for I would like to dicuss the book chapter by chapter as I read along. I'm not the type who breezes through books - I like to take my time with them - so it will take me a while until I have finished it - but the 'heros' depicted so far imo all show a strange lack of empathy.

Xray -

This could be useful. Just start a new thread, with a title like "Thoughts while reading through Atlas Shrugged." Outline what you're doing in that first post. I think it could be a good exercise.

Bill P

[Ian]

"Joy is the goal of existence" - that's the credo Rand's heros seem to cling to. The fact that pain is part of life (and often a life-saver!)just as joy is downright uncacceptable to them - pain is something so dreadful to them that they go right into denial mode.

An strange opposition is constructed between the "sufferer" Philip whose credo is "only to suffer is to feel" and Rearden rejecting it by replacing it with his own, no less odd credo.

Existence has a "goal" ("joy"), it is claimed. Who please sets that goal? How can "existence" be a volitional, goal-seeking entity?

I think you are encountering an idiom of the English language. The sense of the first sentence is more like "Joy is the goal of a living being's existence (and should be the goal of a human existence)." It certainly is mine. I am now in constant pain (peripheral neuropathy) which I certainly would not attempt to deny, but the the joy of living is so overwhelming that the pain seems insignificant. I read Rand's heroes as having a similar attitude.

It is possible for joy not to be merely a temporary state, but a permanent attitude toward life. It is also possible to take pain and suffering as a permanent attitude toward life, "this vale of tears, etc." I think this is the contrast Ayn was getting at.

Ian.

[Ian]

Bravo Ian!!

Spot on mate!!!

Adam

And for the "cool, rational way she carries her hmmm..."

Thanks B)

Ian

[Xray]

"Joy is the goal of existence" - that's the credo Rand's heros seem to cling to. The fact that pain is part of life (and often a life-saver!)just as joy is downright uncacceptable to them - pain is something so dreadful to them that they go right into denial mode.

An strange opposition is constructed between the "sufferer" Philip whose credo is "only to suffer is to feel" and Rearden rejecting it by replacing it with his own, no less odd credo.

Existence has a "goal" ("joy"), it is claimed. Who please sets that goal? How can "existence" be a volitional, goal-seeking entity?

I think you are encountering an idiom of the English language. The sense of the first sentence is more like "Joy is the goal of a living being's existence (and should be the goal of a human existence)." It certainly is mine. I am now in constant pain (peripheral neuropathy) which I certainly would not attempt to deny, but the the joy of living is so overwhelming that the pain seems insignificant. I read Rand's heroes as having a similar attitude.

It is possible for joy not to be merely a temporary state, but a permanent attitude toward life. It is also possible to take pain and suffering as a permanent attitude toward life, "this vale of tears, etc." I think this is the contrast Ayn was getting at.

Ian.

So sorry to hear Ian that you are in chronic pain, and glad to hear that the pain has not clouded your joy of life.

It is true that people can (and often do) feel such intense joy in life so that indivdual pain takes a back seat. Still, it remains a subjective choice.

But imagine a mother who has lost her husband and all her children in an earthquake. If one told such a mother: "Joy is the the goal of existence" - how would that ring in her ears?

This mother may not be able to feel joy anymore because the pain is so overwhelming that she wishes to die too. Again, all remains subjective choice.

I have no problem with Rand (or anyone else) personally believing that "joy is the goal of existence". The same as I have no problem with a buddhist believing that "all of life is suffering".

I just don't happen to share these value/belief systems.

But imo whenever the founders and advocates of an ideology (it makes no difference whether the ideology is based on belief in transcendence or not) try to present their value system as "objective" to the rest of the world, the agenda being that others must (or a bit milder) "ought to" value what they prefer, problems will arise.

Edited May 7, 2009 by Xray

[Xray]

xray, I believed in the tooth fairy, but I gave it up at about six.

Was it very hard for you to give it up back then? Well, such is life. In the end, we'll have to give up everything. ;)

Obviously he gave it up when there was no more money in it for him.

--Brant

With all his baby teeth fallen out, no more financial profit in it for little Adam - hmm. I've never xrayed the issue from that angle. I can't even refute what you said because by doing so, I would go against my own premise that self-interest guides us 100 per cent of the time. So it is indeed logical to assume six-year-old Adam was guided by (monetary) self-interest in that case.

Now I'll stop before getting carried away and beginning to theorize how many tooth fairies can dance on the tip of a dentist's drill. ;)

Thanks for the comic relief, BG!

Edited May 7, 2009 by Xray

[Xray]

You are of course right (Rand practically shouts it from the rooftops in The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged, as well as discussing it in her nonfiction) that she didn't accept pain AS THE NORM. Instead, it was something to rise above.

I have a problem with the use of the word NORM here. For pain as a "norm" would mean one "should" feel pain.

It interests me why it obviously was not possible for Rand to accept pain as part of life, just as joy. Why does she believe accepting pain implies subscribing to the ideology that the whole world is a "vale of tears" with oneself being a "sacrificial animal"?

Edited May 5, 2009 by Xray

[Alfonso Jones]

You are of course right (Rand practically shouts it from the rooftops in The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged, as well as discussing it in her nonfiction) that she didn't accept pain AS THE NORM. Instead, it was something to rise above.

I have a problem with the use of the word NORM here. For pain as a "norm" would mean one "should" feel pain.

It interests me why it obviously was not possible for Rand to accept pain as part of life, just as joy. Why does she believe accepting pain implies subscribing to the ideology that the whole world is a "vale of tears" with oneself being a "sacrificial animal"?

And why do you think the phrase "AS THE NORM" means that? I can't imagine why you would think that.

Bill P

[Xray]

You are of course right (Rand practically shouts it from the rooftops in The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged, as well as discussing it in her nonfiction) that she didn't accept pain AS THE NORM. Instead, it was something to rise above.

I have a problem with the use of the word NORM here. For pain as a "norm" would mean one "should" feel pain.

It interests me why it obviously was not possible for Rand to accept pain as part of life, just as joy. Why does she believe accepting pain implies subscribing to the ideology that the whole world is a "vale of tears" with oneself being a "sacrificial animal"?

And why do you think the phrase "AS THE NORM" means that? I can't imagine why you would think that.

Bill P

How do you define "norm"?

Edited May 5, 2009 by Xray

[Alfonso Jones]

You are of course right (Rand practically shouts it from the rooftops in The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged, as well as discussing it in her nonfiction) that she didn't accept pain AS THE NORM. Instead, it was something to rise above.

I have a problem with the use of the word NORM here. For pain as a "norm" would mean one "should" feel pain.

It interests me why it obviously was not possible for Rand to accept pain as part of life, just as joy. Why does she believe accepting pain implies subscribing to the ideology that the whole world is a "vale of tears" with oneself being a "sacrificial animal"?

And why do you think the phrase "AS THE NORM" means that? I can't imagine why you would think that.

Bill P

How do you define "norm"?

The typical or the average - that which is expected as routine.

Check out http://www.dictionary.com:

1. a standard, model, or pattern.

2. general level or average: Two cars per family is the norm in most suburban communities.

3. Education.

a. a designated standard of average performance of people of a given age, background, etc.

b. a standard based on the past average performance of a given individual.

4. Mathematics.

a. a real-valued, nonnegative function whose domain is a vector space, with properties such that the function of a vector is zero only when the vector is zero, the function of a scalar times a vector is equal to the absolute value of the scalar times the function of the vector, and the function of the sum of two vectors is less than or equal to the sum of the functional values of each vector. The norm of a real number is its absolute value.

b. the greatest difference between two successive points of a given partition.

Now, when you do that, you ask what makes sense. It would be ridiculous to assume that I must mean 4a and then criticize my sentence based on using that meaning.

Bill P

[Brant Gaede]

The title of this thread is "Existence exists?" After 221 posts we still don't know?

--Brant

[Selene]

Brant:

I knew at #1, but I am dumb as a box of untrained pet rocks.

Adam

[Alfonso Jones]

The title of this thread is "Existence exists?" After 221 posts we still don't know?

--Brant

Brant -

Manifest confusion. In some cases, "we" clearly don't want to know.

Bill P

[Alfonso Jones]

Brant:

I knew at #1, but I am dumb as a box of untrained pet rocks.

Adam

LOL, Adam.

Bill P (smiling, and wondering how one does the comparison between a person and a box of untrained pet rocks...)