The Billionaire’s Guide to Killing the American Dream

Photo by Reno Laithienne on Unsplash

The American Dream was supposed to be straightforward: work hard, adhere to the rules, and you'd be okay. That was the con. That was the setup.

Now, the dream has been replaced by a rigged game, where billionaires hoard wealth, politicians sell influence, and the rest of us compete for the few remaining resources. The ladder to success wasn’t just pulled up—it was torched, and we were left with a system designed to keep us struggling, divided, and too exhausted to fight back.

They told us the enemy was each other. They lied.

This isn’t the land of opportunity anymore. It's a place where people buy power instead of earning it. This is a place where justice favors the wealthy and disregards the interests of others. The truth is determined by the highest bidder's interpretation.

And now, the richest man on the planet holds the strings of the president; his money put in place—standing on the South Lawn, grinning like a kingmaker while his new puppet nods along, grateful for the cash that helped him win.

Nevertheless, they continue to urge us to hold onto the dream.

But if you look around—really look—you’ll see the truth.

Someone has scammed us.

A Nation in Freefall

The air was thick with the static hum of terrible news. Another crisis. The cycle of outrage continues. This presents yet another cause for concern.

Scott Galloway calls it “the end of the American brand”—a slow-motion collapse of a country that once stood for innovation, progress, and opportunity. Kara Swisher describes it as “the chaos dividend”—a nation so consumed by outrage and division that the only real winners are those profiting from the dysfunction.

What happens when a reality showman hijacks the American Dream? What happens when the South Lawn of the White House becomes a Tesla dealership? What happens when the government weaponizes access, when leaders endanger lives, and when power ceases to even pretend to serve the people?

It’s the billionaire populist who tells you the system is rigged while rigging it in real time. It’s the working-class voter still waiting for his factory job to come back while his senator pushes tax cuts for yachts. It’s the slow erosion of truth, the normalization of corruption, and the constant hum of resentment that keeps people angry at each other instead of at the ones actually screwing them over.

It’s a nightmare that feels endless.

Like all nightmares, there comes a moment when you become aware of your entrapment.

The Moment It Hits Me

The grocery store smelled like overripe fruit and industrial cleaner. The fluorescent lights were too bright, buzzing slightly, like they, too, were exhausted from it all. A TV mounted near the express lane droned on about crime waves, border chaos, and America under attack. The script never changed—only the footage.

I stood at the register as the cashier rang up my items, my hand already in my pocket, reaching for my wallet.

Then he shoved past me.

There was a man in a red MAGA hat, gripping a crumpled lottery ticket like it was a lifeline.

“Seven bucks,” he barked, slapping it onto the counter.

The cashier barely glanced at him. “I’m helping her,” she said, nodding toward me.

He scoffed, waving her off. “Come on, just give me my money.”

Then, with an air of deliberate casualness, he pulled out his wallet and flipped it open—not for his ID, not for a debit card, but to reveal a concealed weapons permit, deliberately positioned like a silent threat. He let it sit there, waiting for a reaction. He waited for a nod of respect. There was a hint of fear in the air.

The cashier hesitated just long enough for the moment to feel heavier than it should have. Then, without a word, she sighed and handed him his winnings.

He grabbed a tallboy beer and a Slim Jim, swiped his card, and walked out, already unlocking his phone, scrolling for his next dose of manufactured rage.

I exhaled, my shoulders tense in a way I hadn’t noticed before.

And that was it.

It's not about the rallies. It's not about the scandals. It's not about the tweets or the slogans.

It was this.

A man cutting the line was convinced the world owed him something.

A wallet flipped open, not for payment, but for power.

And a system designed to keep people like him angry, entitled, and always looking for someone else to blame.

The nightmare is now the headline.

This isn’t The Apprentice. There’s no dramatic boardroom reveal, no last-minute plot twist.

If this were just another reality show, we could switch off the TV and sleep soundly, knowing none of it would touch our lives. But this is different. The choices we make here shape our future and remain unaffected by the passing of time.

However, the headlines are as unsettling as car alarms in the middle of the night—shrill, relentless, and unavoidable. Ignorance is no longer an option.

Prestigious attorneys are losing their First Amendment rights because they represented clients Trump doesn’t like. Their security clearances revoked, their firms blacklisted from federal contracts, their high-profile clients fleeing—afraid to be caught in the crosshairs of a government that now punishes the wrong kind of advocacy.

Meanwhile, Elon Musk is selling Teslas on the South Lawn of the White House, standing beside a president who once called him a "dumb son of a bitch" but now needs his money. Elon Musk, the richest man in the world, is now manipulating a president he helped establish for a second term.

The Supreme Court isn’t even pretending anymore. The Supreme Court is now known for its lavish trips, billionaire-funded influence, and rulings that serve to cement power rather than uphold justice. Corruption is no longer hidden—it’s flaunted.

Egg prices are soaring again. Hour by hour, tariffs are fluctuating without a clear strategy. The markets teeter, uncertainty grows, and anxiety creeps in—because no one knows what’s coming next. Schumer has made his choice, siding with Republicans to push the spending bill through. A handful of Democrats followed, breaking ranks to avoid a government shutdown—a move meant to weaken Trump, but one that left their own party fractured.

Some saw it as a strategy. Others perceived it as a betrayal. Either way, the deal was done. The government would stay open, but as Schumer left the floor, there was no applause—just the quiet weight of a decision no one felt good about.

None of this is accidental—it’s distraction.

Keep people worrying about grocery prices and the sacrifices they’re making just to stay afloat while, in plain sight, the greatest tax spectacle in history unfolds—a debt our children will be forced to pay.

From George Washington to Barack Obama, the United States accumulated nearly $20 trillion in national debt over more than two centuries.

Then came Donald Trump’s four years in office—and in just one term, the debt skyrocketed by another $7.8 trillion.

What took over 240 years to build, Trump nearly matched in just four.

And now, he’s back.

There will be no more speculation. There will be no more hypothetical discussions. The second term has just begun.

The question isn’t, “What happens if he gets another four years?”

The question is: What happens now that he has them?

How high does the number go before there’s nothing left?

Who will pay the bill?

Not them. Not the billionaires. Not Wall Street. The hedge funds that thrived on the stock market were not the focus of this discussion.

We will.

And the damage doesn’t stop at our borders.

A tariff war rages, inciting fury from once-loyal allies. Trade agreements collapse, foreign markets retaliate, and American exports suffer. Inflation is not a linear increase, but rather a fluctuating journey. After cooling off, it’s climbing again, shaking markets and wallets alike. Meanwhile, the S&P 500 dips into correction territory, reminding us that economic turbulence is far from over. And none of this is happening by accident.

What’s the status of climate and environmental funding? Slashed. With regulations gutted and resources stripped away, wildfires rage unchecked, hurricanes grow more severe, and corporate polluters face fewer consequences. The cost of inaction is rising—fast.

Ukraine? The aid has returned—for now. But even as Zelensky and his people agree to a ceasefire, Putin’s demands remain too steep for peace to become reality. Meanwhile, Russia tightens its grip, and Europe watches warily, questioning America’s long-term commitment.

The list is endless. The consequences are immeasurable.

We can feel the impact everywhere. This impact is felt in our country, in our communities, and across the world.

Allies are turning away, global stability is crumbling, and the ripple effects are reaching every corner of the planet. Markets are in chaos. Democracies are in a state of uncertainty. A world once led by American influence, now questioning whether we can be trusted at all.

This isn’t just another administration.

This is the unraveling.

Wake Up Before It’s Too Late

I stepped outside, pulling my jacket tight as the wind cut through the parking lot. The man in the MAGA hat sat in his truck, the glow of his phone screen illuminating his face, his thumb scrolling in search of the next thing to be mad about.

I just stood there, gripping my coffee, staring at the grocery store sign flickering against the dark sky.

We are not powerless. But that’s exactly what they want us to believe.

That’s the real question, isn’t it? How long do we stay paralyzed—watching, complaining, doomscrolling—before we actually do something?

The nightmare isn’t some distant, abstract fear. It’s here. It’s happening. And if history teaches us anything, it’s that silence, apathy, and resignation are the greatest enablers of destruction.

The unraveling isn’t inevitable. But stopping it requires more than just outrage. It requires action—real, tangible, relentless action.

So, do we keep dreaming, hoping someone else will step in? Or do we wake up and fight for a future that isn’t written by the corrupt, the powerful, and the self-serving?

If we don't take action, the nightmare won’t just continue.

It will become our permanent reality.