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Everything posted by bignosedcopperking

  1. I will share my writings with this forum

    This poem has been re-christened (renamed) because I have featured it in a screenplay I just finished writing. It's new name is A Morning Legende. And you can listen to me recite it here:
  2. Llama Dama—By Jose Gainza “Let me be your flame, Dame, So I could spark and burn, Consumed by passion without blame, Near you dancing as I turn. Deity, I’ve praised your name— By you endlessly I yearn.” Thus spoke my Romantico to me, his Nina, Before I blushed and took his hand. I let him sip wine from my cantina Before he sang then with his band. “I have searched the world for none like you: An oasis to a past now considered tundra. Many joys I did manage to construe From a life fulfilled by mind’s Utopia. Virtue, values, dreams, and work All combined and made my happiness. Now suddenly my pathways jerk, And halt before the flower of your beauty bliss.” Thus continued Tico with smiles sanguine, Sending notes up to the wind’s embrace, Blowing words in swirl scented by my wine, Twirlings in the sand did his body trace. “I dance for you to help you feel my beats, And tell you what you mean to me to win, A life with you earning daily treats, That grew so ripe from all that I gave in. I claim that there’s a part of you that swears Allegiance to the happy minded seers, And will avenge the torches all your years.” Executing eyes of mine, how Tico saw, Willing to condemn the evil men, That dare to poke me with their law, That makes our love forbidden. “Francesca isn’t outraged just for me, And your Papa is fuming not for me, They hate the fact that we can find a joy, Felt by all yet, O, so hard to get. Don’t you know their anger is a ploy? To hide the blatant evil they beget: Hatred for the good for being good— The why of life so misunderstood!” And soon he swept me far away, And my past dust to the wind. Here we are in San Francisco Bay, Winning life we never have to mend. “The white dress that you wear, How it stands for a soul the purest. And your joy that I must bear, Is the cause of our love the surest. And tonight when I own you in our bliss, It will be heaven you will kiss.” Thus we stand here both, Reciting the same verse, In a sacred form of oath, In a style just terse, To reveal our burning lust, Sanctioned by god Reason’s cast, The halo of our trust, And the blessing of our past, That brought us here, To feel this thing, And know it without fear, And promise you to bring, The joy that always stays Somewhere within me, Even if you leave our days, In death and cease to be, But please don’t die, No, don’t dare go, Don’t tempt me, dear, to die, Though you know how I’ll still grow, As in allegiance to our life, A life committed thus in love, Shrugging off the strife, Because peace is not above, It’s here below and on this earth, It’s been here since our birth, It came with our straight minds, And it’s the force that binds, Us forever And ever …
  3. I will share my writings with this forum

    Well that's why I don't consider myself a real poet yet, though many of my poems have much promise: I never learned the rules. I write what I hear in my head and what sounds good to me in the moment and while I edit. I would have to check out one of my poetry books to understand exactly what you mean. Thanks for the advice though. Since I like this poem so much, I think I might do that. And then write some more sonnets.
  4. I will share my writings with this forum

    Thank you very much. I apreciate it. Actually I've been reading it over and over since yesterday.
  5. I will share my writings with this forum

    [My latest poem. I have rhymed again. I am proud of this poem]. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Before Your Labor Day By Jose Gainza As the rays of dawn race to brush your face, While your eyes are shut softly on my pillow, The scent of rind will awaken your embrace, Shine a smile on me that has no touch of sorrow. This orange skin caresses cheeks this new born morn, Ere I peel the fruit in our fragrant, windowed room. Of tears of joy and gasps of mirth you warn, As I feed you slices sweet; your feast assume. The trickling dew upon your chin I kiss away, And soon the circle of my lips will circle yours, And the duvet cloud embracing you I'll throw away, And lift you in my arms through bathroom doors, Lay you in my tub to bathe away our night, And resist your call to join you with all might.
  6. I will share my writings with this forum

    Brian, did I do a better job in the following poem? "THE ETERNAL RECURRENCE OF YOUR ROARING THUNDER By Jose Gainza You thunder in me, you thunder in me, you thunder in me … My heart pounds and pounds, it pounds and pounds! You thunder in words, you thunder in words—you thunder my breast, thunder my breast. You slow down my voice, you raise the volume, you expand my lungs, As you pound in me, O pound in me. I see it’s like glass in me, smashing in me, shattering free. I hear the hard brass in me, trembling free, My metal in me electrically shuddering, ringing in me, like bells in me. I hear you as horns in me blowing free, boisterously blowing your song through me. My heart pounds and pounds, it pounds and pounds! I hear you as drums in me, pounding free. I see you as leather in me bearing the hammer Hammering me, hammering in me … My heart pounds and pounds, it pounds and pounds! I feel you as water in me, flowing through me; you are the falls on me, Crashing through me, pounding the boulders inside of me. You are the showers in me machine gunning me, Drenching my clothes and my flesh. I feel you as wind in me shooting through me, The launch when my earth wants to sing, Wants to bare its simple pain to it all in me. I hear you howling in me, screeching in me. I hear your sirens and beckoning reach, Pounding in me, O pounding in me. My heart pounds and pounds, it pounds and pounds! I hear you as words in me, as seeds in me, growing, growling, and echoing free— Calling my soul to envision, and my eyes to enlighten The truth I resist when you pound in me, O pound in me. I hide from the storm that you are, you as pounding in me, The thunder of you and the trembling in me, The wisdom of you that still lingers in me, But it thunders in me. The vision you spoke of, the freedom of we, the freedom of you and the freedom of I, The freedom of men who know of the storm that persists midst our light; And who know of the system that will recall the sun, And who know of the promise like I promised to you. I persist while producing the vision but bearing the storm Of your dying shadow and fainting echo, yet persisting memory. Yet I’m producing a vision to end your storm … My heart pounds in me, it pounds and pounds! Still you thunder in me, you pound and pound and pound …" --Or is this too blank and modern? Really, I would love to know.
  7. I will share my writings with this forum

    "This sighing/singing of total feeling? This flying/ringing of all my body?" I believe that you would include both words that are separated by the slash; it is not a choice for me or anyone, we do not have to choose either/or. I've never seen that before, it's a good technique. There is a seeming contradiction in my thought, but if one understands what I mean there really isn't. The way you do it is very eloquent. Thanks!
  8. I will share my writings with this forum

    Brian, thank you very much for this! That was great! Can I share this on my facebook, and name you as the writer, because I have included this poem on my wall, and would love to share a better expression the thought I wanted to express. Please!
  9. I will share my writings with this forum

    I've been busy and so haven't had the time to check these comments out. I'm surprised and glad that you have chosen to speak about my "poem". Um, In the last year or so I've hardly been able to write rhyming poems, and not much poetry. Yes, I would like to develop this poem further. Yes, give the right rhyme and rhythm. However, there are moments when I have an idea, a thought, which could be the essence of a poem, and so I write it down, I speak it slowly, tasting each word, but I would love to be able to do something more with them. I like reading Whitman--ALOUD. Just to hear the words, each word, and there is a rhythm in him. And so I have occassion where I just need to write down the thought. The thought is very good in the "poem" above. It is one of my best thoughts on love so far. It came to me in a moment and I just had to write it down. The thought was good, and so I shared it. Again, thanks for your comments. Jose.
  10. I will share my writings with this forum

    A SUDDEN SENTIMENT This is existence! This is what my strongest feeling says: That to be with you is life— That what this mirth and fear embodied in aching, are saying, Is that you and I together now are the meaning of life! Together we are the triumph of what is possible to human ability— The testament to how magnanimous the earth is to men’s dreams— The end to which all our choices and actions have thus embarked— The confirmation of our beneficent power of choice, seizer of this Utopia— This choice the constant condition of eternal happiness: This greatest payment, this union of our worthy selves!
  11. V for Vendetta (2005)

    I loved this movie. I saw beyond the aspects of politics and morality that I disagreed about. I must say that I didn't even grasp yet any flawed and evil liberal propoganda in it. Anyways, the movie is irresistible even from the opening speech, which is Natalie Portman's character's: V For Vendetta
  12. I will share my writings with this forum

    Ode to West One By Jose Gainza Perspective 1 Perspective 2
  13. My Standup Comedy Debut

    I'm looking forward to the political stuff. Please and thank you.
  14. I will share my writings with this forum

    [i missed a line; my apologies] Recollecting a Facet of Utter Wanting By Jose Gainza … Your slender feet up creaking steps—your stretching calves cause ankles blushing. Your shoeless feet have socks too short—your legs have pants too high … You sit outstretched on cushioned chair and plot your legs too nigh … Your cherry joints of hand extend towards salty delight: Giant olives sucked by lips divine do sound of tender kissing! So my heart pursues a frenzy … my teeth sink into lip … my stomach growling … I breathe and freeze in place and close my eyes to overcome my plight ... I look across to hold your face in sight and see you cocky smiling.
  15. I will share my writings with this forum

    Recollecting a Facet of Utter Wanting By Jose Gainza … Your slender feet up creaking steps—your stretching calves cause ankles blushing. Your shoeless feet have socks too short—your legs have pants too high … You sit outstretched on cushioned chair and plot your legs too nigh … Your cherry joints of hand extend towards salty delight: Giant olives sucked by lips divine do sound of tender kissing! So my heart pursues a frenzy … my teeth sink into lip … my stomach growling … I look across to hold your face in sight and see you cocky smiling.
  16. Larger print editions of Atlas

    The Penguin Classics is a good size. It has a grey cover with a dark haired serious man in a suit. I bought it for a friend recently, and I paid a little extra than the normal paperback, because I didn't want my friend to struggle with the font, which is a size I would have preferred to have read it in the first and fifth time. Jose.
  17. Slumdog Millionaire (2008)

    Slumdog Millionaire: A Touching Story of Destiny By Jose Gainza The easiest test I have to judge a movie is whether it makes me cry, which I call the ‘Pearl Harbor Test’, for when I first saw this movie I cried so much I wanted to bawl. The Notebook had a similar effect on me. But this unfortunately is a subjective standard, and it should be insufficient to convince you that my judgment is true. Nonetheless, I believe that I am mature, experienced, wise, and sensitive enough to personally trust a movie that makes me cry. Since the beginning of my adult life, when I began to discover the world of philosophy—besides stories about the heroic, passionate thinker—I have always appreciated stories about passionate love, about the great return of a lost love, about how society or society’s politics can interfere with the fulfillment of love, about an obvious obsession (whether explicitly intense or somewhat repressed). Looking back at my adolescence, I must admit that even then there have been movies that have made me cry, but when I was twenty, I began to understand the meaning of my cinematic laments and welcome and enjoy them. Slumdog Millionaire (2008) does meet this standard of mine; it made me cry, and in addition, I am now on the threshold of thirty. Though I sincerely cried (actually, really teary eyed), it was nowhere near the intensity I experienced with the two movies noted at the top. The lover in Slumdog Millionaire is Jamal Malik, and he is inescapably possessed by an intense and insatiable love for Latika, a girl he first met in his early boyhood. Throughout the entire film it is presented adequately that she is always on his mind, always has been, and always will be. It is indeed heartbreaking the way in which they are separated the first time, especially since it is Jamal’s own brother who finalizes the separation of the child Jamal and the child Latika. She is running for a train that is just beginning to take off, and Salim, Jamal’s brother, is the one who is going to grab Latika’s hand and bring her aboard the train—but he pulls his hand away and gives the girl a mocking smile. Soon she is captured by the gangsters they have just been running away from. “Don’t worry about her. She’ll be fine. She always is,” Salim advises his brother. However, this advice is not enough for the viewer to calm his fears. It seems, by the look on his face, that Jamal is willing to accept this for now. Yet recall by whom she is captured. Maman is a gangster who saved Jamal, Salim, and Latika from the brink of starvation. They were working for him as organized beggars of the streets of Mumbai. We witness them using a crying baby in order to earn more money. We soon find out that blind beggars make even more money than ones with eyes. They are running away from Maman because he wants to scoop out Jamal’s eyes so that he could earn more money for him. Salim had been put in the position to deceive his brother and lead him to the victimization of having his eyes scooped out with a spoon. Instead he saves his brother and they manage to catch a train—but Latika is left behind. We already know that Jamal and Latika are in love and have made promises about their future together. We thus know the torment that Jamal will endure. Added to the torment of being separated from the person one loves the most—which I too am familiar with—is the fear of her being victimized in ways little Jamal can only dream of. In the case of Slumdog Millionaire it is extreme poverty, and the perennial gangsterism that always seems to accompany the poverty of slums, that keeps Jamal and Latika apart. If I am honest with myself, I must admit that I loved Slumdog Millionaire. It made me cry and for good reason. Yet there are other standards. Take a look at the story (or the “plot”). Will Jamal Malik win the grand prize? Will a slum dog become a slum dog-millionaire? Did he cheat? How exactly is he winning? As it turns out, he is winning honestly. He is not a genius, though he possesses a heroic soul. Rather he is winning by chance, though it is not luck. The questions are random, and the answers are grounded in past experiences which Jamal must recall. For instance, there is the Benjamin Franklin/$100 bill question, which has an answer from Jamal that originates in a adolescent encounter by Jamal with an American tourist couple, and finally in his later encounter, his reunion with the boy who received the blinded fate just before Jamal was saved by Salim at the hands of Maman, which leads to him finally finding Latika, and Salim saving her for Jamal. In a funny exchange in a restaurant kitchen, we learn that Jamal and Salim have left Bombay where they were finding success as petty criminals and grifters, and returned to Mumbai with the specific intent to find Latika. Salim, very reluctant to be in Mumbai, is doing this for his brother. If you think about it, it would have been a different story, if Jamal, after losing Latika the first time, would have committed himself to becoming a learned man, working towards going to University, and becoming a professional, to secure the happiness and well being, when he finally finds his lost love again. But in the movie, Jamal gets on the game show Who Want to Be a Millionaire? by chance, while working at a telemarketing firm. The questions of the game show are a device to tell the story of Jamal and Latika and its importance to Jamal’s life. The movie begins with a question, and it ends with an answer: Jamal Malik is one question away from winning 29 Million rupees. How did he do it? A: He cheated. B: He’s lucky. C: He’s a genius. D: It is written. Much of the story revolves around Jamal being interrogated by a police officer about whether or not he cheated on the game show. Several questions are examined, and this way we learn the story of Jamal. Eventually we learn why Jamal is being accused and whether he cheated or not. Based on the story that is revealed, we must admit that Jamal has not been lucky up to the point of being on the game show; he has suffered much. He is not a genius, he is not very learned, though he does have a very capable mind and brave spirit; he is only a tea server at a telemarketing firm. The final answer of the movie is: “D. It is written”. Our Slumdog was destined to love Latika, to find her again, to win the fortune that will free them from the forces that have kept them apart for so long. Slumdog does not seem to be in control of his ultimate happiness. Yet this determinism as the overall worldview of the film is not a malevolently fatalistic one. There is still a sense of hope: even for the most wretched and pitiful of men, the universe can still grant you your greatest wish, and this is a universe in which you will be allowed to enjoy that fulfillment. Is Slumdog totally at the mercy of some higher power, or does he have some choice in the direction of his life? There is much to say about the nature of his character as a motive power of his life’s course. Very early he is presented as a brave boy. Take for example, his decision in the face of a bigger event, an emergency, of which he has no control of, of which he is but a little insignificant pawn. His mother is brutally beaten before him by a murderous religious fanatic, and her death is a certainty. The boy does not panic, he does not try to save her in a foolish futility, he does not roll up in a ball wailing and lamenting awaiting his own murder. His reaction is rather to run away for his own safety, to meet a future of loneliness, fragility, poverty and uncertainty, a boy without a mother or a home. He is left alone perhaps with a brother he rather not live with, who promises already to be a potential enemy. The most admirable virtue of Jamal Malik is his utter commitment to loving and being with this girl, Latika. It is the most notable indication of the free spirit that he still possesses—amidst the uncontrollable forces of poverty, war, familial separation, crime, prejudice, lack of social opportunity, deceit, betrayal, and simple good and bad luck. Latika, the beautiful, adorable creature, came to him like a bolt of lightning amidst a torrential night. It was as if she knew somewhere within her that she must wait for him in the rain. Slumdog could not resist bringing her into his shelter and into his life. It seems he had no choice. And then—just like that!—she was taken away. This higher power may have endowed him with his impregnable love for Latika, but he held onto the decision intransigently, to always wait for her, always look for her, and to always consider her. From the perspective of a certain kind of storytelling, this virtue in Jamal is the most redeeming aspect of the film. From a certain perspective, this film fails to tell a great story. At least, it could be more thrilling. Imagine that Jamal decided to separate from Latika on purpose, though despite his intense love for her and his desire to remain with her. Imagine that instead of Latika missing the first train of their youth, he had to leave her to enact some other mission. Perhaps he was committed to avenging the murder of his mother, and so could not have Latika partake in that. Imagine he became a sort of political crusader instead. Imagine we were shown this, but also alongside, the sad experiences that Latika is going through, and imagine that Slumdog learns about her torment—but still decides to remain on his mission of revenge. Now let’s allow him to succeed at his revenge. Now let’s make him a man on the run because of it. But let’s make him overcome that too and be free to take Latika away with him to live happily ever after. But let’s put something else in the way of that. Perhaps she is too angry at him. How will he win her back? Maybe a rich heiress wants him and is preventing his deliverance with Latika. The possibilities are numerous. What these imaginings serve to illustrate is a way of writing a story where a story’s protagonist’s choice of moral values and choice of consequent action, and his value-conflicts within himself and against others, dominate the story and make it more thrilling. I suggest a story where freewill or volition is allowed into the abstract world-view of the artist and his message. But Slumdog Millionaire is not that kind of story. The protagonist and the other characters are moved by external forces beyond their control. This artistic attitude is not total in the story of Slumdog Millionaire but it is very dominant. The movie starts off with a question. What led to Jamal winning his fortune and winning his love? We know that “it is written”. All those tragic and heart breaking events in Jamal’s life, along with some of the more pleasant ones, were chosen by a higher power for Jamal to experience. They were chosen so that he would have the necessary experiences as material of memory for when he has to answer the game show questions (an event which is also pre-determined). Out of all the millions of people in the same tragic class, this one passionate and intense boy was chosen by this higher power to be happy. I believe that this is exactly the theme of Slumdog Millionaire, that is to say: “Look at what happiness was bestowed upon one man.” Yet this deliverance is not possible to the great majority of men. One simply has to be lucky that you were chosen and your life’s course has been ‘written’ in such a way. Is this inspiring to the general reader or viewer? It can be if one sees Slumdog Millionaire as a folk legend so that the common man can live vicariously through its story, in the face a reality that promises to be not so lucky for the great majority. Some men take comfort in such tales. I do not and cannot. And yet, within the context of the type of story it is—naturalistic—Slumdog Millionaire was a good movie. Not only was it a tear-jerker but it succeeded in presenting its theme: the deliverance of a particular slumdog. And this is what I like most abut the core artistic aspect of Slumdog Millionaire: that though I am a believer in free will in the most profound sense, and so I don’t support the fatalistic aspect of the movie, it possesses a happy fatalism. It confirms to those who want to believe that, though very rare, sometimes this universe is such that, and despite all the horrors and frustration and agony that may befall a man, a man may fall in love, may attain great wealth, and may win the right to love and live with his one great love: sometimes a man is allowed to be happy. The main literary shortcoming of Slumdog Millionaire is its failure to present Latika more fully. We never learn why Jamal loves her; we never really learn what values and virtues she possesses that makes Jamal love her. It just is. It is an absolute law. It is a force of nature. It is truly a love that is unconditional in the truest sense; Jamal has no choice about it and he accepts it as his religion, his mania, his lifelong devotion. And it seems that no matter what Latika does, or what type of person she becomes, Jamal will always love her, and that she is beyond reproach and always will be. We must take his love for granted and accept it as Jamal’s primary and dominant motivating force. And this is what we marvel at: we are allowed to witness a believable and intense passion in Jamal for Latika; we see it in his face, in his body language, in his choices of actions, and his willingness to patiently suffer.
  18. There Will Be Blood (2007)

    I actually went to see this movie at the movies on Oscar night. And I was so captivated by Daniel Day Lewis's performance that I had to leave a little short of half way to catch the Oscars, but I also left because I couldn't stand the hysteria of the religionists ... Then I rented it on DVD. Yes, I was disappointed by what the Oil man had become. However, he was consistent. And the villain was clearly the religious zealot. So if one abstracts away enough, and focuses on the conflict between the Oil man and the zealot, then one can appreciate the end. What's his terminology for how he stole the oil? That was a dramatically beautiful scene. I love it very much. It seemed to fulfill a logical sequence of events. The movie was good art. One accepts it, knowing fully that one cannot escape hating who the Oil man turns out to be, but one can enjoy it as art. I never read the book though. For example, I loved Victor Hugo's Torquemada, which was better art, for the scene in the gave with the Hermit, AND of course the ending when we discover the fate of the lovers.
  19. Haunted by the Past

    This is turning out to be a very nice and helpful topic. I look forward to reading it in full. I had a somewhat similar experience and it haunted me for so many years. Most recently the whole fiasco has turned into an awesome laughter: look what my old friend missed out on. These years hurt so much, and yet I achieved what I set out to in the beginning, though the details are different from what I had predicted. There is so much to be achieved and my primary joy is my act of achieviing. My friend didn't seem to believe in Ayn Rand's promise, for example, and yet I am certain it is realizable in any individual who chooses to endure the struggle to achieve it. Take this in the light of what the next ten years promise: my twenties will never compare and can never compare to my attainment during a time when I am smarter and wiser and more skillfull (my thirties). So I simply have two things to draw your attentiont to: 1, is to accept, if it is the case, that you loved the time you had with him, and you received genuine values from it, no one can ever take THAT away from you. 2, in my experience, the stage I am at now, is that besides the fact the he looks like Brad Pitt, is that I want to see him simply because I want to share my stuff with him, I'm like a child again who wants to invite a new friend to his house to show him his cool toys and how he amuses himself; there's a part of me that needs him to know it without any aim of turning him over to my side, simply the fact needs to be real in his mind. But I believe that this too is a stage of healing, and eventually, if it has to come to that, he will not matter. That's it.
  20. JEOPARDY! mention of Ayn Rand's work

    So, some of you may be wondering what happened. Nathaniel had the audacity to lose, only earning $57, 000, in 3 days of working adding up to a few hours only, probably--that's not considering the couple of years of preparation, taken away from his life's central passion. How dare he! He lost last Thursday. But he did amazing. I am really glad that he has the opportunity to create freely and without worry for a time. I somewhat fear what is going to come out of him in the next little while, it will be hard to bear in a good way. It makes my world a better place knowing that this guy who was struggling unfairly, in my opinion, finally got a break, in such an amazing and unbelievable way. If you are dedicated and continue to work hard at it, it is within the laws and grace of this world to give you what you want. Anyway, here's his departing words: Nathaniel's Last Words
  21. JEOPARDY! mention of Ayn Rand's work

    Eventually I will stope with these updates ... it just has to stop ... doesn't it. Yes, he won again. This time it was really close, and this pretty admirable girl was kicking his butt for too much of it. Then in final jeopardy won 25,000+ from his 15,000. The girl in the lead bet too much and answered wrong. The answer was 'butterball'.
  22. JEOPARDY! mention of Ayn Rand's work

    Just keeping you updated. He won again. He's now at 31,000+. It is very very cool. When I was a kid I used to watch jeopardy religiously, from what I could remember. I haven't watched it in years. This is a very amazing way to start watching it again.
  23. JEOPARDY! mention of Ayn Rand's work

    My confidence was justified. He won $23,900. Final Jeopardy was very interesting. It was Shakespeare women. It was a subject that would have tempted him to double his over 20 grand. Before the break it was the case that he might have to bet several thousand because his win was not set. However, after the break Alex announced that they made a mistake on another player's answer, which was correct, and so Nat, who lost some money in answering that question next, got back his money. Nathaniel was the clear winner if he did not wager a hundred dollars or so. He answered the question correctly, Lady Macbeth, and it turned out he only wagered $100. Very nice.
  24. JEOPARDY! mention of Ayn Rand's work

    Nathaniel J.S. Barnes has his own website: Nathaniel's Official Website
  25. JEOPARDY! mention of Ayn Rand's work

    On the subject of Jeopardy, here is something a little better than having a question about one of Ayn Rand's works on the show: n Objectivist appearing as a contestant. My friend Nathaniel J.S. Barnes is going to appear on Jeopardy on Monday. In Toronto, I will be watching it on CBC at 7:30pm. I have not asked him whether he is an Objectivist or whether he thinks he is an Objectivist. But this is what I know. He has studied Ayn Rand, I believe read all of her published works, and has done a considerable amount of work understanding her philosophy, even the esthetics. He is primarily a composer of classical music, and has completed a few great works, including a concerto (I believe it is) named "Rearden Metal", at least that is what he called it personally to himself. He graduated several years ago from film school in university and now works in the restaurant business. He has written a few competent screen plays at least, along with short stories. A few years ago, we were out for karaoke--consequently he is also a great singer, which I was stunned to find out--and he told me of his plans to try out for Jeopardy. I didn't laugh. I was surprised because I believed it to be a difficult task, but knowing Nathaniel, I was confident that he had a good chance at succeeding. He is the most rational and conistent achiever I know personally. He possesses a powerful mind, it is vast and in regular control, it is purposeful and it is quick, it is witty and even sarastic. I knew that he did indeed possess a really good memory, a faculty and skill that I have indeed marvelled at. He finished University with good grades and he worked himself through it as a bus boy, amidst an environment that must have been torture for him, as us Ayn Rand fans must know of. I was there too and had not the strength or stomach to endure it at that age. Another important aspect of Nathaniel is his physical strength and determination. I met him when he was eighteen or nineteen standing outside a campus Objectivist club meeting, waiting for it to start. He was tall, skinny, lanky, he seemed shy, perhaps a little afraid. As I told you already, he turned out to possess perhaps the most powerful mind I have personally encountered and experienced, next to John Ridpath. A year or two later he told me that he decided that he was going to sculpt his body, he was going to start working out and weight lift. Gradually, I started to see the development. But a few years after his announcement, I met him again one night when Andrew Bernstein was in Toronto. He had achieved truy an esthetically beatiful form, it was something that might inspire a Michealangelo. (At this point let me just say that I and Nat have purely a platonic relationship, and we hold each other in a similar regard). This achivement of his was important for me to witness because it proved to me that he was a whole man, a complete man, on his own, and that such a man is possible, and within reach of my own soul. Anyways, I hardly see him, as he is easily busy, as am I. Now as you can tell, he may not get the opportunity to mention Ayn Rand because he might have other personal things to reveal, but he just might. And besides, it would be a very pleasing thing to see "a guy like us" getting on national television, expressing his rationality, excelling, winning, all for himself, for his material reward long overdue. This upcoming Monday. As a link all I got is this facebook group (when you are logged onto facebook). I share all this with you because it is an expression of a value of mine, related to Objectivism, related to Jeopardy. Nathaniel Facebook