[Veloce]

I found this from the first Google result, a link to a separate article calling Matt Taylor "useless in everyday life":

http://www.theguardian.com/science/2014/...ist-sister

If you don't feel like clicking, here are the offending paragraphs:

Quote:

Such is the fate of Matt Taylor, the British scientist who is a key part of the Rosetta team. As he was toasting the probe’s success – albeit amid remaining concerns about its location and future – his sister, Maxine, told London’s Evening Standard newspaper that the heavily tattooed Taylor, in the tradition of absent-minded scientists, could be “useless” in everyday life.

She told the paper: “He gets so involved in everything that sometimes common sense goes out of the window – like losing the car in the car park, silly things. If you go out with him, you end up going round and round looking for a car parking space. He doesn’t like making decisions.”

This is the work of some dark, demented evil. A man can no longer celebrate a great achievement for humanity without a hit piece coming out from his own bitch sister (with the help of progressive media)

I know not everyone on rvf is a big fan of The Fountainhead, but this Matt Taylor story parallels it in some uncanny ways. Ayn Rand was eccentric and inconsistent, but she was no dummy. For those who haven't read it, there are several instances where brilliant men, Howard Roark and Steven Mallory, unveil beautiful works of architecture and sculpture to the public. Because their works are so unconventional and unfitting to the current trends, the cultural elite (Ellsworth Toohey) releases hit pieces in the newspaper telling the sheeplike public why they should hate and revile these beautiful works, and of course the public falls for it.

This thing, feminism, cultural Marxism, SJWs, are best summed up in a quote from the book, given by Steven Mallory. It's one of my favorite quotes from the book:

Quote:

"Listen, what's the most horrible experience you can imagine? To me—it's being left, unarmed, in a sealed cell with a drooling beast of prey or a maniac who's had some disease that's eaten his brain out. You'd have nothing then but your voice—your voice and your thought. You'd scream to that creature why it should not touch you, you'd have the most eloquent words, the unanswerable words, you'd become the vessel of the absolute truth. And you'd see living eyes watching you and you'd know that the thing can't hear you, that it can't be reached, not reached, not in any way, yet it's breathing and moving there before you with a purpose of its own. That's horror. Well, that's what's hanging over the world, prowling somewhere through mankind, that same thing, something closed, mindless, utterly wanton, but something with an aim and a cunning of its own."