With a Push and a Picture, A Headline is Born, A Father is Mourned, Humankind to be Scorned.

Posted by on Dec 9, 2012 in On The Street | 0 comments

This is what we’ve become: a deer in the headlights for a head-turning headline.

I’ve always considered subway fatalities to be one of the most demeaning ways of leaving this mortal coil. Sure, you could argue that automobile accidents are just as feckless– but I beg to differ.

Your average crosswalk won’t have people lined up, patiently waiting for a ride to the next block, who are probably in most respects dithering away in a particularly thrilling round of bejeweled, reading the latest E.L. James sequel, or chowing down on some freshly-fried falafel. Therefore, there would be no one to save you if you did get pushed into oncoming traffic.

But don’t expect to be saved by anyone, anyway, even if the right conditions are met. I mean, judging by what happened a mere 4 days prior, nobody bothered to really put in an effort to save one poor soul, who found himself in every New Yorker’s nightmare: on the atomic-sewage tributary of death– the subway tracks.

“Han, of Elmherst, Queens, desperately tried to scramble back to the platform as onlookers screamed, shouted and frantically waved their hands and bags in a bid to get the downtown Q train to stop at around 12:30 p.m.”

What’s wrong with this picture?

1) A lot of good that screaming and shouting will do, my “onlooking” ladies and gentleman. How about LIFTING THE GUY UP WITH YOUR HANDS instead of waving ’em around like prissy little idiots?

2) Where were the station popo/agents during midday? In Times Square, one of the busiest subway stations in NYC? Oh, right, I forget, it’s the MTA: Mongoloid Transportation Autocracy. No one goes in, but our money goes out. By the billions.

3) It’s Elmh-U-rst with a U, you NYPost nincompoops.

So go ahead and shake your head at this tragic tale of subway death– but not before pondering this one last gem:

“Post freelance photographer R. Umar Abbasi — who had been waiting on the platform of the 49th Street station — ran toward the train, repeatedly firing off his flash to warn the operator.”

“‘I just started running, running, hoping that the driver could see my flash,’ said Abbasi.”

I have to ask Mr. Abbasi:

Was it really to flash?

Or for some blood-stained cash?

Was it worth this one man’s ash?

 

One thing’s for sure: that crass crash made us all look like an ass.

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