WTF was Wrong with Ayn Rand?

I began reading Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand last night. A friend of mine is reading it, and I thought I'd give Ms. Rand another try. In high school, I read The Fountainhead. For weeks, maybe months, afterward, I was "different", everyone noted. I was angry and abrasive and disliked people, very different from my former affectionate, silly self.

I should have remembered that. I should never have begun reading another of her books.

30 pages into it, I'm started to get that creeped-out feeling. That feeling that the world is soiled, that people are deeply flawed beyond redemption, that stupidity and petty selfishness are all we can expect from each other.

How does she make me feel that? I agree with the basic idea that one should find their gift and live it out to the fullest extent possible. Where does she go awry? The complete disconnection from other people, as Loren suggested? The inflexibility of the "heroes"?

I suppose I think we should find our gift and live it not only for our own self-actualization but for the betterment of everyone. I think people working with passion is good for the world. I cannot embrace a philosophy that judges so harshly people who are differ in opinion from the "hero" (e.g. Ms. Rand). I don't find indifference to other people to be a strength.

I will never again read Ayn Rand. She paints things so black and white--the "good" art/people/endeavors and the "bad". That is not the world I live in, it is not a world I can stomach.