The descendents of the huddled masses, the post-war dregs: our mothers, our brothers, our names forever ingrained with a humble honor, for the opportunity to give their families a chance for a future in the brave, new free ideas that spoke to something inside every human life. Every hardship and horror they faced is a piece sewn in our history. So take a long hard look: that's your face in the mirror, your shadow on the wall. Is this the future they fought for, so you could step over millions to serve your self-interest? You are this cold, dead shiv, so callous and completely accustomed to privilege. What are you proud of now? I want out. I won't be counted among you, i can admit when i'm wrong. So you can carry this banner, but we won't follow along. I want out.