Monday, April 8, 2013


When one builds a skyscraper, you must start at the bottom.
Though once it is built, one has constructed a building at the highest of Earth's atmosphere.
The beauty of intellect is that it stands as the pinnacle of achievement.
Mcdonald’s. One of the largest conglomerate companies in the world. Hardly can you go into a country, travel via plane into China go halfway around the world to Europe or into the midlands of Texas and Virginia without finding the large, golden M standing in pride of a business that has provided meals for hundreds upon thousands—no, millions—of peopl.
McDonald’s is a business, a provider of trade, the only equitable form of exchange in the world.
There is trade and force. The only two mechanisms for exchange in this world.
Charity falls under the category of trade, the trade of perceived value.
The brilliance of money is that it is the  best medium of exchange of goods.
The M represents the power of innovation. It carries an M as the upside down W in power. It has managed to expand across multiple continents and has provided food—easily made, easily consumed, low-priced, and philanthropic in that regard.
            Skyscrapers are brilliant. They are like the germination of an idea as it reaches its apex.
            Man has achieved many things. One is the control of fire in one’s hands—a cigarette.
            He has designed ways to transport himself quickly over distances with little to no energy expenditure.
            He has also learned to defy the laws of gravity.
            Man has created the process in which he can create synthetic foods.
            Rand’s use of Howard Roark as an architect is particularly effective as architecture is the field or practice of creation of things, of a city, of an idea rising above others.
            Measure a man by the content of his ideas not by the color of his skin.—Anonymous
            Ideas are skyscrapers because they reach the limit of man’s mechanisms. Everything is done via an idea. Every height of greatness every
            I grow angry at the idea of writing for any audience for I know my writing is too good to be observed by the common, public eye. Like dominque francon had a painting in her apartment and determinedly threw it away so that the common average eye would not see it I have concealed my inner talent for years for resistance of exposing it. And now it shines upon the pages of a blog for now.

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