By Ziauddin Sardar
Propelled through its mythology, the United States pursues its dream relentlessly. right here, the authors disclose the darkish facet of that delusion: loss of life, soreness, perpetual worry, an expanding divide among wealthy and bad, a squandering of the human destiny, and the relentless development of increasingly more pretexts for destiny wars.
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The real danger, that it would be discovered I had spent the night in the lodge, was only beginning. At last Saul ambled over. " he asked, kneeling next to me. He looked more amused than upset, although he told me later that the sight of me flat on my back had shocked him. "I thought I heard the cleaning woman," I whispered. ". He looked at the window and then again at me. His expression said he thought I had half lost my mind. The doctor at Ridley Memorial Hospital (where I arrived in an ambulance, in which Saul drank most of the brandy that had been brought for me) said I was lucky.
I opened the window of my second-story room and looked out. The rear of the lodge faced the highway at the edge of the campus, with a stretch of grass and white pines between. The asphalt roof in front of me slanted down so that its edge was no more than eight or nine feet from the ground. The grass below looked soft. If I crawled out the window and to the edge of the asphalt, I ought to be able to drop safely and noiselessly to the ground. Then I could come around to the front of the lodge and enter again by the ground-floor door, looking perfectly legal.
Or insisted to my parents that it was Antioch or nothing? I had had a contented few months, and my grades were up from the fall semester; but Saul implicitly raised my doubts as we strolled from the meetinghouse to the rose garden to the snack bar. At ten o'clock I left Saul at Keith's dorm and went to meet Keith at the lodge we had reserved. If my first completely private night with my lover was an idyll of sensuous pleasure, I've managed to forget it since. My only clear memory is that in the morning Keith quietly dressed himself, kissed me, and let himself out the door in what must have been ample time for his nine o'clock exam.
American dream global nightmare by Ziauddin Sardar