Welcome to Objectivism Online Forum

Welcome to Objectivism Online, a forum for discussing the philosophy of Ayn Rand. For full access, register via Facebook or email.

TheDudeWow

Regulars
  • Content count

    33
  • Joined

  • Last visited

About TheDudeWow

  • Rank
    Junior Member
  • Birthday 06/10/94

Profile Information

  • Gender Male
  • Location Hubert
  • Interests Politics, creating, and the sky.

Previous Fields

  • Country United States
  • State (US/Canadian) NorthCarolina
  • Chat Nick Garrett
  • Relationship status Single
  • Sexual orientation Straight
  • Real Name Garrett Dailey
  • Copyright Public Domain
  1. Personally, I like the second more, if only slightly.
  2. Thank you.
  3. Nice to meet you, James. It's always pleasant, if not far too rare, to see others my age exploring Objectivism. Where/when did you first learn about Objectivism?
  4. Mhm.
  5. A drawing inspired by the quote, "It was Ego who was flying the banner."
  6. She rises, as does cloth in the breeze, but driven, controlled. She spares no movement for the wind's embrace, indifferent, she allows it to dance around her, caressing unfeeling skin.
  7. You are more than welcome.
  8. You are more than welcome.
  9. Conflict- The curtain of maroon velvet rose in response to the deafening applause which followed the combative overture. With a soft click, light quickly spread across a minute circle at center stage, eager to illuminate its sole resident. Within the walls of a pillar composed of citrine brightness stood a woman, facing opposite the crowd. She swiftly turned to her left and, with weightless grace, began to advance towards the edge of the stage when the calm voice of a man called out, “Wait.” He spoke, not a plea to be considered, but a command to be obeyed. The woman halted, but kept her back to him. He slowly proceeded from the shadowed stage and was lit. A tall, gaunt figure emerged from the tenebrious shroud, opposite the woman. He continued his approach,moving with the single-minded resolution of a man crazed with tenacity. Nearing the woman, he reached as if to turn her around. Before his outstretched hands could grasp her shoulders, she pivoted abruptly and stared at the man indifferently with cold, golden eyes. “Why?” She questioned him without genuine inquisition; no answer was needed. “You and I both know the answer to that.” His answer subjugated her interrogation, and the two were silent for a few long moments. She then rotated, looking out over the audience. An onyx dress encircled her thin body, flowing smoothly from slight straps clinging to her pale, slender shoulders down to her stiletto-clad feet. Her short blond hair sat just above the nape of her neck, shining beneath the rays of muted spotlight. It circled her face, and her thin, lightly curved bangs came to rest at the level of her sharply angled eyebrows. Her lips bore no emotion, save a strong, still impasse. Head held proudly aloft, her sharp eyes looked off into the distance in pensive thought. “The things you want,” she paused, turning back towards the man, “you know that you cannot have both. There is no compromise here. There is no middle ground.” “Do you honestly think that anything you can say can stop me? You are surely not the first to claim that what I seek is impossible, and I swear to you, you will not be the first to be correct. Do you know what I am? I am the unstoppable force incarnate. I will not allow anything to stand before me. I do not yield; flee or be razed.” “What happens when the unstoppable force meets an immovable object?” she rebutted softly. He responded to her taunt with a devilish grin of pure audacity. “If you won't be displaced, I'll cut straight through you.” He hesitated momentarily, then continued. “You think very highly of yourself. It would be a shame to fall from the grace of your lofty ideals and end up trampled underfoot like the rest of these sinners.” “A tower of corpses is not the only way to elevate yourself.” “Who said anything about elevation? I'll pull the sky down beneath me and watch it bow. They'll worship at a temple of my own design and sell their precious souls to do it.” “Do you realize that you've been on your knees the entire time?” “I worship no one.” “You've destroyed any possibility for reverence. Nothing matters to you because you've lost sight of meaning.” “My purpose is my own. My meaning is what I make of it. I will do for the sake of doing. I will not stop for the sake of movement. Nothing in this city can hold me back. You see these skyscrapers?” Slowly, the murky stage became aglow with the pinpoints of light in the backdrop. A distant cityscape took form from the obsidian shadows towards the rear of the set. “These will be mine.” She diverted her gaze from the man and swiftly walked away. The now-solitary figure continued to contemplate the buildings before him. “And, in time,” he quietly spoke to himself, “so will you.”
  10. A solitary note rose above the dim depths of the orchestra pit; the signal of a forward scout for his nearing army. Out of the darkness, the resonant echoes of an ethereal march began their approach as a call to defiant purpose ruptured the veil of tranquility strewn across the anxious theater. The battle began in earnest when the initial volleys of noise faded beneath opposing walls of unstoppable sound. Triumphant shots of brass rang out in fierce retaliation to the screams of the assaulting, undulant strings, giving audible life to nameless conflict. The dissonant harmonies clashed in a violent dance of annihilative ultimatum; each force a statement of uninhibited drive. A constant, sonorous pulse of drums throbbed as the plangent heart of struggle, circulating the sheer will of the antagonism present in the vibrating air. The beat unrelentingly escalated in a final, consuming drive for victory mirrored in the symphonic rivals, until all were disarmed with a sudden silence.
  11. He is tense- a coiled spring with clockwork drive, precise and mechanical in pursuit. He is wound- vision, the turning key that opens the lock on purpose, ticking away all doubts. He is taut- metal under strain; showing no compression or fault, bearing the burden of time.
  12. It's sad that they had to make it out as some sort of sacrifice to the team and the coach.
  13. Whoops. I meant "anti-collective". Sorry about that.
  14. I recently discovered this wonderful gem of a band. I was talking to a friend and he mentioned something about a Megaman inspired rock opera group called The Protomen, and for the sake of how bizarre that sounded, I decided to check them out. I was blown away. Not only is it some of the best music that I've heard in a long time, the lyrics are very pro-individual and anti-individual. I read somewhere that Atlas was one of their influences. I would definitely suggest that any fans of rock music give them a shot. (I would suggest that if you do listen to them, you should do it in order, as the music tells a story.) "But men, they say a lot of foolish things, and in the end the only words I can find to believe in are mine." "So I learned how to bend steel. I learned how to make it move, and I watched as it withstood all the hell we put men through. With hands of iron, there's not a task we couldn't do." "I will not be told where to stand! I will not be told what to say. Not by man or machine, Not by you, not by anyone tonight!" (Some examples of their lyrics.)
  15. To give one's all, to have tried and failed is a nobler fate than is received by those, who through sheer luck prevailed and in themselves, deceived to feel, to no avail, that hollow victories achieve a sense of honor not made stale from the rightful victor they bereave For true success is never found in gold and trophies frail nor in the hearts content to cleave from the earned, the ascendant hail; that greatest moment of reprieve The only prize worth winning is the final breath exhaled, after blood and sweat spent to conceive a triumph, fought with tooth and nail to in one's self, at last, believe. -Victory