What Went Wrong? A line-by-line analysis of the MTA budget

You have been raped. Yes. The MTA has just raped you and you should feel filthy and used. This is because your subway fares are being increased 28% while service is being cut. And you can't do Shit about it except take it.

http://ny1.com/content/top_stories/96219/-span-style--font-size-18pt--line-height-1-2--mta-approves-transit-fare-hikes--service-cuts--span-/Default.aspx

But can you really just let this happen without at least understanding the cause?

Not long ago, the MTA tested the waters of public tolerance by raising the fare from $1.50 to $2.00 per ride under the pretext of financial melt-down. If you remember, the City of NY (after much B.S.) pried open the MTA's financial statements... The result turned out to be an alien autopsy on what was first believed to be human. The accountants cut in, found antennae, wings and three sets of genitals - then they closed the books back up and released the following statement: "….umm…"

The larger financial recession may have been a contributing factor to the collapse of the MTA. As you can imagine, it's much easier to kick someone in the head when they're already on the floor. This is the attitude the MTA has taken toward commuters, and has been the unofficial motto of the organization (followed by 30 seconds of evil laughter). To be fair, efforts have been made to cut costs. Instead of hiring expensive, highly trained accounting staff, the MTA decided several years ago to outsource money management to greedy death-row inmates in Folsom Prison, who are willing to work for a few days' extension on their life. Also, instead of paying expensive bank fees, the MTA has dug a large ditch to safeguard their revenue (using dynamite and prison labor). The ditch is located somewhere in East NY and is guarded by alligators and avian flu.

The truth is, there actually is an outlet for every dollar spent with the MTA. Nobody is just pocketing the money. Surprise. As the following excerpt from the MTA Income Statement will show, the majority of your money will actually be pocketed by many people and then spent on prostitutes and a galaxy of addictive high-powered drugs.

The Day the Girl in the Fugly Blue Coat Swiped My Seat

She looked preggers, but

moved too fast to be one of those 

banged-up chicks.

Plus, 

her husband

looked like a child-hater/molester

She was reading a NY Times that was a day old,

like her hair.

Her voice was the sound a car makes

before dying.

Somehow, this gravid harpy slid into the orange seat

that I was hovering above,

mere seconds before I was able to rightfully take it

as my own. 

DIYM.

"Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?"

Dear Mandy,

Sorry you got murked by the F train. Your life, it was meaningful. But then, murked. And nobody noticed. Because the F train is operated by evil robots who don't care about your life or anyone's time. Murked. Muuurked. The sound, when your body met the F train, was like a large cat being squeezed between two cars. But nobody heard it because the poorly maintained tracks made everyone deaf.

Sincerely yours,

Muad 'Dib

F train was designed by Pirates*

There are only three F trains running through the tunnels connecting 179th Street/Jamaica, Queens and Coney Island, Brooklyn between the hours of 11am-1pm. This is how it is possible, during "off-peak" hours, to wait 10-25 minutes for a train that will eventually arrive on a crowded platform and have only two vacant seats.

Of the three trains running at that time, one is conducted by a former graffiti artist, who prefers coasting at a leisurely pace along the tracks, so as to peruse old and new works along the underground walls.

The other two trains have no human conductors. They are battery operated, with a pre-recorded voice (now you understand who operates those trains that run over people).

These three trains are usually filled with the societal leftovers of New York City: the slightly mentally ill, the jobless/soulless, would-be housewives (minus husbands to give them purpose), pedophiles, abandoned elderly, and degenerate students.

It is a train ride tainted with gray sludge and greasy hair, a hangover of smells.

*Many people think the F train is their favorite train. They cite that it goes through all the boroughs (Bronx/Staten Island are negligible for MTA), and makes many convenient stops along the way. These are people who know nothing.

In fact, the F train is a grossly inconvenient train, that makes traveling from two seemingly close spots interminably distant and difficult. This is because a long time ago, pirates who controlled that No-Man's-Land between Queens and Brooklyn, refused to allow the MTA to build tracks that would have made travel from, say, Jackson Heights to Park Slope, a mere 30-minute commute. They forced the MTA instead to build a winding snake track all through Manhattan's most despicable neighborhoods. To this day, pirates still control the vast majority of territory in New York City, and continue to place ridiculous embargoes on the MTA, which is one of the key causes of the fare hike and the World-wide Recession.

Proper use of Subway Advertisements

For those of us who are very old and are now a participating cog in society, we know that drinking has become at least partially medicinal - doing it on the train is probably the only way to replicate the feeling of adventurous adolescent boozing.  Hobos and newly arrived immigrants have the right idea.

Honesty will compel you to admit that boozing was more fun when the Man was keeping you down.  Clanking bottles in your schoolbag and avoiding the parent(s) when you get home = nostalgia.  Now, nobody cares if you come home stinking of gin and fear.  On the subway, the Man is always keeping you down.  Holding you down by the back of your neck while simultaneously counting your money and penetrating you.

The moral of the story is this:  subway advertisements are there for you to steal when you are very drunk late at night with friends.  Later, when the economy finally gets you, your poster collection can be used to cover your head from the cold November rain. 

9 out of 10 homeless people choose MTA

The MTA has 4 shifts.  But you only have 4 or more hours of life to hand over to the MTA every day.  They want to keep you on that train for a long time.  Somehow, someone profits from that.  

You can catch a good train ride on weekday mornings from 7-8.  

If you fuck up and get on the train between 8 and 10, you can experience agony.  Because the train conductor is getting a divorce/ his wife cheated on him/ he is a woman/ her husband is cheating on her/ abortion.  the savings are passed on to you in the form of 50 people in the space of 8 people.

10 am through 5 pm you may get a foreigner.  

Then you'll travel home.   The difficulty going home is that the conductor will probably be insane.  He (she) may jabber at you (standclearadoorstandcleardadoorSTANDCLEAR!!!!adadoors) or thrust uninteligable nonsense on you via the speaker [(loud crackling)(twenty-two-seven-OK. (loud crackling)We have a red signal due to... (shriek)(loud crackling) Stand clear)].  And you'll be lucky not to go backward.