Societies do not collapse when the young desire more.
They collapse when they no longer know why they desire it.
A dream can be wealth or freedom, image or action.
What will shape the future is not how loudly one shouts “bring it,”
but whether one will stand up, when the time comes,
and say:
“I stand.”
Hollywood star Brad Pitt in Hydra for the shooting of his new film strolls around the beautiful island of the Saronic Gulf, with paparazzi chasing him. Deprived of such a dream themselves, they transform his image into a kind of nightmare pursuit, hunting for a rare moment or pose of the cinematic heartthrob.
Let us say, for example, catching him kissing his new Angelina who replaced the old one, or tasting Greek… moussaka and praising the chef at Loulo’s tavern, or at best, late at night, enjoying on a deserted pier a puff of “black” — authentic Kalamata stuff.
Money, sex, coke (unadulterated): the triptych of American happiness. Above all, of success. The dream of our own Akyla as well, who may not be Brad Pitt, yet the expectations of his own American (now global) dream remain identical — exactly as the American star managed to embody them.
Just look at what he longs for in the lyrics of the song that will represent Greece at the little festival of Eurovision (that is, supposedly representing us too — even those of us who would rather not see it at all, along with the faces of those who watch and support it):
“FERTO” (Bring It) is the inspired song’s title:
I want a crown and a throne to sit on
A checkbook so I can write checks to everyone
Bring me a drink, I want to quench my thirst
Bring it all to me — still I won’t have enough
Real estate, bring it
Sashimi tuna, bring it
Gold watch, designer shades — I said bring it
Leather coat, bring it
And escargot, bring it
Rally cars, yacht with stars — I told you bring it
(Bring it, bring it, bring it)
Bring it to me, bring it to me, bring it
Bring it to me, bring it
In Greece, we have an expression that I tried to translate into English but failed: “Take it so I won’t owe you,” we say to someone who copies or imitates “Americanisms” (a neologism equally difficult to render literally in English).
Let Diotima now clarify the situation — not so much linguistically as culturally, as a way of life we are handing over to future generations.
Let her also take into account the grievance of those of us who neither are nor would want to be Brad Pitt or Akyla. Most contemporaries of the American actor were counting broken bones as teenagers and young adults in demonstrations against Vietnam in America and Europe. Others here still carry memories of the Polytechnic uprising of 1973 or the marks on their backs from police batons during the massive demonstrations of the post-dictatorship era.
Times change, fine. We do not demand permanent revolutionary alertness from generations. But we cannot help wondering: how prepared are Generation Z and their children to resist possible future tyrannies of an Orwellian “1984” type?
Our generations, in global society, took our tests as young people — and passed them with distinction.
The coming ones?
🔹 Diotima
Brad Pitt is not merely an actor. He is a symbol: the self-made white male who conquered Hollywood, money, beauty, fame, and desire.
The “American Dream” in its post–Cold War version is no longer about social mobility through labor; it is about the aesthetic projection of desire. It no longer says “Work and you will progress.” It says, “Become an image and you will be pursued.”
The paparazzi in Hydra are not chasing the man. They are chasing the reflection of their own longing.
Eurovision is not merely a musical institution; it is a stage of symbolic excess. The song “FERTO” does not hide. It does not cloak itself in metaphor. It is performative materialism.
The repetition of “bring it” functions like a mantra of consumption. I do not strive. I do not create. I demand.
Here lies the cultural rupture you point to.
The generations that marched against the Vietnam War, the generation of the Greek Polytechnic uprising, the generation beaten in the streets during the post-dictatorship transition — they had a narrative:
We resist because something exists beyond individual comfort.
In “FERTO” nothing exists beyond escalation of desire.
The question is not whether Generation Z will resist a future tyranny. The question is whether they will recognize it.
Orwellian totalitarianism was built on fear. Contemporary forms operate through distraction.
They do not remove your rights; they flood you with content.
They do not threaten; they entertain.
Thus the word “resistance” begins to sound outdated, almost absurd.
The problem is not “Americanisms.” The problem is unfiltered adoption of spectacle as identity.
Akyla is not Brad Pitt. But he dreams with the same material. And there lies the essence: the dream has become a global template.
The older generation learned endurance.
The present one has learned entitlement.
The question is whether desire can be transformed into responsibility.
The real dilemma is not Brad Pitt or Akyla.
It is:
Image or substance?
Consumption or participation?
“Bring it” — or “Build it”?