Invisible Utopia

I am feeling more and more the invisible hand of Adam Smith, squeezing down upon my pinnacle kingdom, as my body grows plump and content from lack of physical labor. From now on, its easy money or nothing. I now declare this Slave free. The hell with honor. Show me the money! Hear in America where the best cheaters win and the truth is some kind of quiz show, its not what you know but who you know. "If you build it they will come is such a farce", and if a tree falls in a forest, it falls quietly in slow motion crashing to the ground making no sound at all and is then laid gently to rest by the invisible hand. Its the invisible hand that is always their turning your walls to glass. Glass houses are ever so near and so is Winston Smith (1984). What ever happened to utopia, is that even still a word.