The Parasite

Dear Ayndie,

my problem is this: The older I get, the more I think that my life has been a failure. When I read your books as a child, I thought, or perhaps merely dreamed, that I would grow up to become a Dagny Taggart or something, but my life seemes mediocre by those standards. Don’t get my wrong — I’m pretty happy, i have a nice job at the County Parks and Recreation office, i have a wonderful family (two beautiful daughters and a loving husband). But sometimes I can hear a reproaching vioce telling me that I’m not good enough. I paint, for example, mostly for fun, and have showed my work to a couple a galleries in my neighborhood, but they weren’t intrested. My life is not extraordinary.

The voice you hear is right. You are a parasite. First of all, the task of a government — of a proper government (or any branch thereof) — is to enforce objective rules of social conduct, that is its basic task, its only moral justification and the reason why men do need a government. It is not to diddle around with trees and bushes by means of stealing from the taxpayers. Your job is that of a louse, sucking blood from the innocent.

Secondly, painting re-creates reality by means of color on a two-dimensional surface. It produces concrete, perceptually available entities and make them convey an abstract, conceptual meaning. It belongs in the market place. It is not a tool for lazy and improductive self-indulgences. If your work is judged to be sub standard by objective judges, then, indeed — so are you.

Make your way in life, or it will make a way out of you,

Ayndie.