In Hillaryspeak, this is "generosity."

When Person A forces Person B to give something to Person C, the Left describes Person A as "generous" or "caring" or some other warm and fuzzy concept. Then they give you a blank stare when you ask them how generous or caring they were to person B.

See Hillary's Xmas campaign ad, for example, where she doles out expensive government programs as "presents." She is Person A, the recipient is Person C, and Hillary has stolen the presents from you, the taxpayer, who is Person B.

You'll find from time to time in this blog I point out Randian Superheroes, people who embody the ideals of Ayn Rand's philosophy of Objectivism.

The following bitch is what could be called a Clintonian Superhero.

The holidays were sad enough for Kim Velevis and her husband after their lovable pug "Scooter" dug its way out of the backyard and disappeared on Christmas Eve. But the real blow came with the new year: A letter from an anonymous woman who had found the friendly dog and gave it to her daughter as a Christmas present.

Two sentences into the article,

and Michael Bonanno's shit-stupidness is already apparent.

Last night, I happened upon a 1959 Mike Wallace interview. In this interview, Wallace was speaking to Ayn Rand, the goddess of today’s Libertarian Party[1], the party that Ron Paul would belong to if he had any courage[2]. But Paul has no courage.

Um, no.

[1.] If Libertarians WERE Objectivists, they wouldn't believe in goddesses. And The Libertarian Party is a political entity, not a philosophical one such as Ayn Rand's Objectivist movement. There are PLENTY of Libertarians who are rather disdainful of Ayn Rand, some even that have never heard of her. Ayn Rand herself dismissed Libertarians as "the hippies of the right." Libertarians don't strike me as the masochistic type, so I doubt they would elevate ANYONE who verbally degraded them to the level of "goddess."

[2.] Once upon a time, there was a little thing called 1988. Perhaps you've heard about it, but it's readily apparent this dumbass hasn't. Bonanno should read about it sometime. If he does, he will discover that Ron Paul was the Libertarian Party Presidential candidate. For all the good it did him. It takes more courage to stick it out in the trenches and fight to save a party riddled with corruption than it does to stand outside that party and gripe about it's corruption. He TRIED the reform-from-outside route; it didn't work. Now he's trying the reform-from-inside.

For the offense of sheer shit-stupidness, Bonanno is the first nominee for the October 2007 Douchebag of the Month Award.

Arkanssouri Public Service Announcement.

For a brief moment, FORTUNE catches up with ARKANSSOURI.

You've no doubt noted how I point out that certain catastrophic failures caused by our "Reward Failure/Punish Success" government dovetail with events depicted in Ayn Rand's magnum opus Atlas Shrugged.

Just this morning, I was thinking that maybe the only thing Ayn Rand got wrong in the book was that it seems the John Galts haven't gone on strike at all. They've retired instead.

Adam Lashinsky of FORTUNE/CNNMoney notices the parallels, too.

Then proceeds to retreat into his comfort zone of blaming the rich for not allowing themselves to be subjugated as a resource to be mined to feed the machine of bureaucracy and the appetites of the looters.

We'll get through this. We always do. As a country we'll become outraged at our crumbling infrastructure and demand that our leaders fix it. By punishing their stock prices - what they really care about - lenders and home builders who duped people into spending beyond their means will get their comeuppance. And then the stocks markets and the economy will be just fine. Plutocrats will realize that their limos travel over bridges and that their employees take the subway.

Is this the part where . . .

. . . Atlas Shrugged fans get their hopes dashed about a possible movie . . . AGAIN?

Oyster Shrugged.

Randian superheroes do exist in the real world.

Putting the price way up over $4 a gallon isn't about making a profit. It's
about making a statement to a multinational corporation. After Shell forced him
to pay higher prices for gas in San Francisco and jacked up his rent, Oyster
says, he decided to fight back.

"I got fed up,'' Oyster admits. "It makes a statement, and I guess when
people see that price they also see the Shell sign right next to it.''

In fact, far from making a huge profit, Oyster is going out of
business. He has operated the Shell station at Sixth and Harrison for 22 years,
but he's walking away from it at the end of the month, handing over the keys to
Shell officials and expecting them to shut it down.

"I'm getting nothing for the station,'' he says. "I just give them the
keys and walk away. . ."

I wonder what job he'll take up in Galt's Gulch. Window-washing, perhaps.

[H/T 2 Drudge.]

I didn't know I was that much of an intellectual snob.

I'd talked briefly to him countless times before. He was mostly quiet, but would sometimes come up with something that seemed to originate out in left field. He works with his dad cutting people's grass and doing handyman and light construction jobs.

Last night, I went out for coffee.

Alone, I scooted into the booth and began mixing in the creamer and pink stuff.

He, also alone, was sitting at a table near me.

I guess he was in a mood to talk, because pretty soon he came over and sat down with me and started talking.

I don't know what brought it on, but he began extolling the virtues of capitalism and decrying the welfare class. He called them leeches.

I, of course, agreed. I had believed these things even long before being introduced to the writings of Ayn Rand. But I had long ago gotten tired of being looked at like an exotic species of bug whenever I mentioned her name or one of her works, so I didn't tell him about her.

So, after the conversation ranged from "progressive" taxation to religion to what money actually is ("If money is the root of all evil, why does the church want you to give them 10% of it?") and we found ourselves in agreement on all of it, I was surprised when he said, "Let me tell you about a book that you've gotta read."

I knew which one. I replied, "Atlas Shrugged?"

He said that was the one. He hadn't read any of her other books, but he got . . . really got Atlas Shrugged. And in some ways, was better than I was at explaining it.

See, I have this thing about making my points as concisely as possible. In most cases, that is a blessing, but occasionally it is a curse. It simply can't be done with Atlas Shrugged. The Fountainhead, yes ("No one has a right to veto your happiness, not even society" is one of TF's major points, for instance.). But Atlas Shrugged, no.

I explained TF to him, as well as Anthem and We The Living. He was excited most about TF and wished he could find a copy somewhere.

Then I told him about the upcoming Atlas Shrugged movie and that Pitt and Jolie were going to star in it. His eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning.

We spent the next hour casting the rest of the movie.

I wonder if he feels as bad about underestimating me with his assumptions as I do about doing the same to him.

Last night after getting home, I dug around in my closet for hours until I found it.

My trusty old copy of The Fountainhead.

This morning, I went back to the restaurant. He and his dad have breakfast or coffee there every morning.

But this morning, he didn't join his dad. I gave the dad the book and told him, "This is for Jared; tell him I need it back when he's done."