Well, look at you. You’re all so brand spanking new, shiny, and gleaming. The world was made for the likes of you as you are now. Young. Supple. Idealistic. Yes, even the goths with their cloaks of (imaginary? performative?) sorrow, black as their black kohl-rimmed eyes. Yes, you are hopeful and just as starry-eyed and dreamy as the sunshiny ones that you scorn as vehemently as Dracula despises daylight. But you’re here too, wearing a robe and a ridiculous hat with a tassel. The truly sinister-at-heart, antiestablishment marauder wouldn’t be caught dead among such living. I’m not saying you’re a poser; I’m just saying it takes a lot more than memorizing Ginsberg to truly be one of the disillusioned, walking dead. Here’s my message to you: maybe you should truly live within the illusion of a tax-paying regular Joe before you disavow it. How can you disavow what you don’t know?