Start with a cup of half-understood Nietzsche, add a slavering devotion to wealth and a refusal to acknowledge history, finish with a dash of sexual bitterness, and you’ve got yourself some Ayn Rand.  Like a lot of nerds, I was deep into The Fountainhead during high school.  Then I went to college and started an education; ten years later, I’m–like a lot of nerds–embarrassed by my youthful affection for this crank.

There’s a new biography out, reviewed here by Sam Anderson of New York Magazine.  If I didn’t think Halloween is  silly child’s holiday, I might dress up as  Howard Roark–you know, be an asshole toward everyone who doesn’t think like I do, and maybe end up with a babe in the end.  Ladies, according to Ayn Rand, you all worship imperious men.  Didn’t work out so well for her, though.

If you want to cleanse your palate, the magazine is also running an interview with one of my favorite sports writers, Bill Simmons, a.k.a. The Sports Guy.

-TGR