Knicks Morning News (2025.06.06)

Every time Indiana pulls a win out of their ass because the other team shrinks in the 4th, I have to laugh. It’s not luck — it’s just capitalizing when the other side tightens up. The thing is, we can do the same exact thing, and do it better. We’ve got more talent, more depth — we just need a coach who actually leans into our strengths instead of trying to make us something we’re not. Play to what we’re good at, keep the pressure on, and let them crack.

One report and everyone loses their shit.

I’d love to have Giannis, though.

Anyways, I was rewatching Season 1 of Mad Men and was reminded why it might be the greatest first season of any TV show ever. It lays the groundwork for a sustained, subtle critique of Ayn Rand’s philosophy, embedded especially in Don Draper’s character arc. At the heart of that critique is a dismantling of the idea of transcendental individualism — the notion, central to Rand’s work, that the highest human ideal is the radically self-reliant, visionary individual.

On the surface, Don appears to be a Randian hero — a modern-day Howard Roark or John Galt: self-made, hyper-competent, rising through merit and guided by a personal vision. He’s a creator, a builder, and a capitalist success story.

But Mad Men quickly peels back that image to reveal profound contradiction. Unlike Rand’s protagonists, Don lacks any coherent internal philosophy. His decisions aren’t driven by principled self-interest or rational clarity, but by insecurity, shame, and a desperate need for emotional connection. He doesn’t transcend the crowd; he performs for it, constantly seeking approval while isolating himself.

Even his profession reinforces that point. Where Rand glorified the entrepreneur as a truth-teller — a producer of real value — Don is in the business of illusion. Advertising, as the show presents it, isn’t about truth or substance; it’s about emotional manipulation, packaging desire, and selling fantasy. Don’s genius lies not in building or creating, but in concealing — making a cigarette or a carousel feel like something more than what it is.

Even his very identity is part of the illusion. Don Draper doesn’t really exist — he’s a persona, an alter ego crafted to sell himself to his peers, his family, and to the world as the ideal 1950s American success story. His real name is Dick Whitman, and he stole another man’s identity to escape his past. This makes him, quite literally, a manufactured product — a brand. And when the truth comes out by the end of the first season, it doesn’t even matter. Pete Campbell exposes Don’s secret, and no one cares. Why? Because Don plays the part well enough. Appearances are reality.

It’s a devastatingly anti-Randian twist: the truth is irrelevant as long as the performance is convincing. entire philosophical framework (Objectivism) is built on the primacy of objective reality and reason. For Rand, truth matters above all — not just in science or logic, but in ethics, identity, and work. Her heroes refuse to lie, fake, or conform. They reject appearances in favor of what is true, earned, and rationally justified. A person’s performance — if not rooted in truth and integrity — is worthless in her worldview.

So in Mad Men, when Don Draper is revealed to be a fraud — and yet the world keeps turning, the clients stay, and no one truly cares it’s a sharp rejection of her belief that truth, rationality, and moral integrity ultimately prevail in in capitalist and media-driven culture she championed.

In that sense, Mad Men doesn’t just suggest Don fails to live up to Rand’s ideal — it argues that the ideal itself is hollow. Don’s life dramatizes the existential toll of aspiring to a vision of individualism that denies emotional complexity, vulnerability, and the need for connection. The show doesn’t simply critique Rand’s heroes — it shows us why no real person could ever be one.

Mariano was probably the best argument for clutch being real and he also blew a league championship and a world series which should highlight the futility of the whole discussion

As a hater Mets fan, I don’t even blame him for that World Series loss against the D-Backs. That was a broken-bat blooper — pure bad luck, not a failure of skill or composure. It shows that sometimes, even the best can fall victim to random chance.

I’m just kind of surprised even with Dolan as our owner that he would consider Kidd bc Kidd kind of screwed over the Knicks when he was here.

Has to be part of a play for Giannis.

Lindor
Forevermore.