On the dreaming of dreams, pt 3 (the Dark Knight)

The Dark Knight pushes everything to the brink. A city teeters on the edge of anarchy. Good men grapple with the death of dreams. The villains push me (the viewer) to a level of anger that’s usually reserved for things that are real. Everything rests on the thinnest of ledges; everything balances on the blade of a knife.

And that’s where I often find myself when I confront my dreams. I stand on the thinnest of thin, knowing that I must take a step. Do I take the Harvey Dent step, and lash out in anger at everything? Do I take the Bruce Wayne line, where I lie to myself until further notice? Do I take the Commissioner Gordon track, where I desperately do and say anything to make what I want happen? Or will I take the Batman road, simply doing what must be done, whether or not I want to do it, because that’s who I am?

There’s one response that The Dark Knight doesn’t detail: giving up. My dreams mean more to me than that.