Go hang out with the Ayn Rand types.
Yes.

Procrustes Stretched
And then they had made love . . .
``Pardon me, miss.''
It was the bald man.
``Yes?''
``My name is Waldo Mudge. What's yours?''
``Stank. Dallas Stank.''
``Stank? The Stank who runs the railroad?''
``The same.''
Dallas proudly threw back her head.
``Hmph!'' Mudge sniffed.
``What do you do for a living, Mr. Mudge?''
``I'm a humanitarian. I live for others. Why do you look at me that
way? I give all my blood to the poor. Organs, too. Right now, I'm nothing
but an empty balloon. Don't look at me like that. Do you want to know
what keeps me alive? My love for mankind---something you would never
understand!''
``You're right, I . . . What's that hissing I hear?''
``Hissing? What? Oh, no!''
Suddenly, Waldo Mudge deflated.
http://www.emba.uvm.edu/~jmwilson/aynrand.pdf