Oh shit, I just came across evidence of my youthful stupidity. [View all]

This might be a post more appropriate for the lounge, but it is a little bit political, so I'll put it here.

We're getting a new furnace installed, which means we've had to move a bookshelf that was frankly, cluttered, with all sorts of, well, crap.

I have this bad habit of never throwing books away, although I am now old enough to realize that there are just some books not worth keeping. I mean, "Powerpoint for Dummies 2003," really?

(Did I really buy that book? I've never been a fan of "Dummy" books. I can blame my wife. She just agreed to throw out the once very expensive ICD coding 2016, a big deal for her. That was definitely a past life.

For my part, I threw away an old history textbook, and a copy of an edition of Morrison and Boyd's "Organic Chemistry," which some how actually got moldy. The probability that I would ever have needed to open that book again is zero.)

It turns out that there is a far worse example of having been, well, a dummy in the past and I certainly can't blame my wife.

On my bookshelf there's a book by, um, um, um - I almost can't say it - Ayn Rand. "Capitalism: The Unknown Ideal."

Um, um, um...

Look, back when I still had acne, I recall reading both "The Fountainhead" and "Atlas Shrugged." I've always been credulous and of course, and well, when you a kid with acne, well, you're a kid. I'm kind of glad I know what's in them, particularly since unlike the "hero" John Galt (and his creator) I spend a lot of time thinking about the laws of thermodynamics.

But really? Ayn Rand "Philosophy?" I acquired that?

Shit.

Is it possible that someone gave to me like people give out Bible tracts?

If not, I can only be thankful that eventually I grew up.

I certainly wouldn't want to interact with myself as a kid; I'd be filled with contempt. I'm sure there are other people who feel the same.