Ayn Rand Revises Nursery Rhymes
I am Ayn Rand. If you question my reasoning for speaking in this forum, it was of my own volition. No money was traded hands, as I have no need for the compensation of a rag that exists to mindlessly entertain. I merely consider this an opportunity to give proper education to uneducated masses. Specifically, the masses who have not yet reached an age of independence: infants.
The life of an infant is a dreadful existence, and it’s the fact that we have intellectually chosen to mentally sequester off this period that provides objective truth. Imagine it for a moment: shackled to the horrid bounds of being fed and bathed until a damaging legal system declared them able — after a period of fourteen years, if lucky. Simply and utterly grim, and I And other Objectivists thank the sole deity, our brilliant consciousness, that the trauma of an event has not influenced us to live the life of a parasite.
Unfortunately, many babies across the world (most importantly, America) are already indoctrinated into being prepared for the benefits of leisure, leaving us proper beings to provide for these drones. It is a fate that is inevitable in our disgusting forward-thinking society. And if you still wonder at my intent for this piece and its introduction, you will be pleased to know that I wish to educate these infants. The purpose is to provide them with the knowledge and necessary attitudes to transcend the boundaries of “community,” as they are brainwashed to support. It is only another word for “the advocation of laziness.” I’m sure the parents reading this don’t wish to be responsible for raising an unproductive society larvae. And thus, I ask that you turn your children to me, and let them learn the brilliant act of reading on their own. It will be a collection of miniature stories they are familiar with, sans the propaganda that completes the rhyme scheme.
Little ones, enjoy my revised nursery rhymes, and let them influence you to become the better human for yourself, and damn the torpedoes that call themselves helpers and friends.
“Baa Baa Black sheep, have you any wool?”
“No, sir. No, sir. Altruism has blinded you with a sense of entitlement and in return, you will provide me with nothing. Why waste my birth-given wool on a leech with no personal contribution to the betterment of individualism?”
“Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water. Jack fell down and broke his crown while Jill took the pail for herself, leaving Jack to his pitiful crisis. Offering assistance encourages ingratitude and lack of virtue.”
“I’m a little teapot, independent and proudly benefited. Here is my handle, here is my spout, both from which I provide my own tea. I have no claim on what you must sacrifice, because you shouldn’t. The illusion of support exists only in your mind.
When I get all steamed up, don’t even think about being the hand that tips my superior form, as it has likely been bred to be cautious of the warm porcelain. Another piece of mind imprisonment from the cult of safety regulations.”
“The wheels on the bus go round and round, in spite of the pitiful city regulations constructed to keep the vehicle’s original designer suppressed by censoring his ingenuity and individuality. Never compromise for any change in the name of ‘the public.’ What have they ever done for you? Unless they actively defend your worth as a man in charge of his own devices, they are worthless and should be counted only as necessary losses.”
“Twinkle twinkle, little star. How I wonder what you are.”
“You need not wonder. Do you not see me with your own eyes? Facts are simply that: facts. There’s no worth in wasting brain power on metaphysics when the image before you stands in a concrete form. No amount of wishing or thinking will affect the outcome you wish to achieve. Leave your irrational fantasies of creative thought behind and believe in the laws of nature, negating the attempt to affect it through some misguided belief in the greater good.”
