I grew up in the 1950s and early 1960’s.  I can remember running through the neighborhood when we were twelve or thirteen doing silly kid stuff like knocking on doors and running (ding,dong ditch) or throwing crabapples at cars. A couple of times the police caught us – one time

Ayn Rand’s book, Atlas Shrugged involves a mystery of a man named John Galt. An inventor who refuses to allow the United States government to control his invention. He forms a community of like-minded individuals who believe in the sanctity of work and self-direction. Now I confess I have not