The American Dream is not dead, but dying. Twisted, distorted, raped. It's drowning in the materialism of the dreamers.
Fuck Arthur Miller, fuck his loss of hope. Yes, the days of the white picket fence, the nuclear family, and the stay at home wife are gone. They're long gone.
But still, the American Dream is not dead, but changed. Living in the hearts and minds of the hopeful, of the radical dreamers.
Fuck Jennifer Hodschild and her ideas on the American Dream, not everybody starts out at the same place, not everybody has the same oppertunities. Blind idealism, no matter how well argued, is just that.
I have an American Dream, one that seems just out of reach.
A dream that differes from that of my neighbor, a dream that is mine, and mine alone to have and persue.
A dream of a world without classes and without nations, without racism and without bigotry.
A dream of a nation without need for violence and radicalism. A dream thats just out of reach.
But maybe if we try just a little bit harder...