About to be hit by a train? The NY Post will print it!

Last week, there was a picture on the cover of the New York Post that showed a man who was about to be hit by a subway train. Actual picture, actual event. There are many things about this that are insane. 

For one, how can you take a picture of a man who's ABOUT to die? A person who is in danger and could be helped – and your first thought is not to take a step toward to help this man, but to focus your camera so you can get his expression?

"Help! Someone help me off the tracks!"

"Hey, this is just like the TV! But there are no cameras here. Wait! Except this one around my neck! Don't worry, NBC, I'll be your eyes and ears on this one."

"Help! Help me!"

"I am helping, sir! I am taking your picture so that everyone gets to see this horrible event. You'll be in the paper! Say cheese! …Guttural screaming, huh? That's a weird way to say 'cheese'."

Why would someone take a picture of this, you ask? The man who took the picture said he started taking pictures so that the flash on his camera would alert the driver. I think that needs to be written again to really understand its outlandishness. He took the picture... so that the flash... would alert the driver. Are we serious? Can this be said at all? What other ludicrous ways does this man try to alert people?

"Hey, man! I tried to warn you about that bike that was about to hit you. You didn't see me? I was across the street and I made an origami swan and threw it at you. Man, first you run the light and then you don't see the swan? You're not good at reading signals, huh?"

He took pictures so the flash would alert the driver?! There's no end to what a lie that is to protect himself against people who call him a monster. That reasoning is as insane as when a kid tries to make up a story of how a chair was broken.

"Well, you see, we were standing on the chair to do our homework."

"Really? In the kitchen? Beside the cookies?"

"Yeah! We weren't going to eat them; the cookies just help us focus. So we were standing on the chair, and I said, "I love my mom so much! She's so great!" and I guess the weight of those words, combined with our own weight, broke the chair."

The picture taker was on The Today Show the following day, and was asked why he didn't help the man, and if he felt bad about taking the pictures. His answers were pretty robotic, and he didn't seem as if he felt any emotions, let alone guilt or sadness. 

"If I gave you a new car right now, would you be happy about it?"

"I don't know. It would depend on whether or not my batteries are fully charged. If you are going to give me a new car, can you check my bars? I want to act accordingly."

He was asked as well if he sold the pictures or made money off of them.

"Yes. I was offered money for them. I wouldn't call it 'selling' the pictures, I would call it 'licensing'."

Licensing! This man has a picture of someone about to die, and he's 'licensing' the pictures?

"Ya know, I REALLY want a picture of a dead guy, but I just don't think I can afford it right now."

"Can't afford it?! Well, I've got a deal for you. How does one hundred dollars down and forty bucks a month for the next five years?"

"Really? Okay, that soun... Wait, what does forty bucks a month for the next five years equal out to?"

"It equals out to you leaving right now with a picture of a dead guy."

"Wow! Where do I sign!"

Not only was it bad enough that someone has a picture of this at all, but the New York Post printed it. On the front page! Printed it on the front page of the paper? With the headline "Doomed"? Are you "Faces of Death"? Are you hard up for sales? If you're printing this, why not print other pictures of people about to die? Why not head right to the morgue, and instead of just having a story about a prostitute who was murdered, get a picture of her? Why not? Do you have to see it as it's happening before the picture can be used?

"Guys! I have a great picture for your paper! You heard about the old woman who was stabbed last night for her wallet, right? Well, take a look at this."

"Whoa! That's a straight-on shot of her face. Wait, is that the knife in her stomach?"

"Yeah! I stabbed her with my left hand, took the picture with my right! I can steady a camera better with my right hand. My left hand is kinda shaky. This woman found that out the hard way."

"...You murdered this woman?"

"Sure did. Seventy-eight bucks on her."

"Well, sir, I'm am thoroughly disgusted... that you are going to go to jail for this! I mean, look at the lighting! Look at how close you are! It's just a shame. You'll probably get fifteen years, but when you get out, you'll have a job here with benefits. Congratulations."

Not one person there could help this guy? Not one? I know there isn't a good Samaritan law, but man, can nothing be done to these people? At least be banned from the subway for a bit. Something.

"Can I buy a monthly pass?"

"Sure... wait. Weren't you on the platform the other day when a man fell onto the tracks and you didn't do anything about it?"

"Yeah! Man, it was nuts. I got some pictures. You want to see? I got right up in his face in one of them. You can almost see him mouth the words, "Why the fuck are you taking pictures and not giving me a hand at all?"

"You are not allowed on the train, sir. And you make me sick."

Maybe the people on the tracks actually wouldn't have been able to help him. I wasn't there. But could they have at least attempted to help him? At least fake an attempt to try to help him? People feign interest all the time. Just about any time someone is walking behind you when you walk through a doorway, and they're just a little bit too far behind for you to hold it open for them, you'll make an attempt at pretending to reach back to hold it, but you just don't quite make it.

"Ah, sorry, man. My hand didn't reach it in time. I tried. Sorry about that cake that was smashed into your face. If only you were two steps faster."

We fake attempts all the time! If an old woman is about to lift a heavy box, and you see someone close to her who is going to help her, you'll probably still make the attempt, even though you will not be called upon.

"Oh, you got it? Okay."

"No, actually. I was going to help her with her coat. Could you give us a hand?"

"Sorry, what? I am now five steps away from you. You probably just want to thank me again for stepping forward, but here's a secret, I had no intention of helping, regardless. Thanks, though."

The people there couldn't even ATTEMPT to help him? Not even take a stride forward? Not even yell out? Nothing? Just stand there and wait for it to happen?

Maybe that's why there are action movies. Movies that show people doing heroic things that no one would ever attempt in real life. Maybe if action movies were based on reality, they wouldn't even happen.

"John McClane! Your wife's Christmas party has been taken over by terrorists! You are the only one who can help!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Help? Not on your life. First of all, I'm off duty. Second, terrorists? Don't think so. And it's 'ex' wife. Maybe if she hadn't left me, I'd think differently. But right now? I'm way too upset to forgive her for leaving, and I will let these terrorists capture her out of spite. Stop terrorists without any shoes? Yippe-kay-nay!"

It's amazing that not one person stepped forward to help this man. I think people don't want to help because most people don't want to step out of line. No one wants to be embarrassed. About ninety-five percent of people try their hardest to go all day without bumping into people, being noticed by strangers, or doing something that could be deemed embarrassing or ridiculous. Most people are horrified that they could be called upon to do something.

"Man, I can't go help that guy. What if I make it into the paper? I'm not wearing anything cool enough to be in the paper – just a stupid black jacket. Or worse! What if I trip on the way over to help him and everyone here sees me fall on my face! I could never take the subway again! How could I continue to live if forty people saw me trip and f... Oh! The train hit him! Whoa. Well, at least I can slink back into obscurity. Thank you, Jesus."

It's crazy that a man is PUSHED onto the tracks and no one moves at all. If someone dropped his or her phone? Everyone would care.

"Man, you dropped your phone! That's terrible. Here, I'll hold your stuff while you jump down and grab it."

"A man was just pushed onto the tracks!"

"Oh, God! Tell him to get up and get pushed again! I have to get my phone so I can take a picture of him! He hasn't died yet, has he? I want a picture!"

Twitter @nathanmacintosh

Laguardia. The little airport that could.

I have lived in New York for about a year and I fly in and out of it a decent amount. Anytime I can, I fly out of LaGuardia airport. It is so close that if it expanded, my house could potentially become a terminal.

"Whoa! What are you guys doing in my shower?"

"Well, technically you are in our shower. We have expanded to include the surrounding neighborhoods. Would you like to check in to your flight?"

"I'm not flying today."

"Well, check in for the next one! You probably don't need to. Now that I've seen you naked, I know it's you."

I think that's pretty great. Others, though, really cannot stand this airport.

People trash LaGuardia all the time. In May, it was actually ranked the worst airport in America. The worst! People tore it apart.

"It's dirty!"

"The ceilings are low!"

"It's too small!"

I absolutely love this airport. For many reasons, really. One reason – it is a ten-dollar cab ride from my house. Ten dollars! From an airport! 'Does he live in a terminal,' you ask? 'Is he a baggage handler who sleeps underneath one of the carts at night,' you wonder aloud?

"Well, I'm done for the day, boss. I'm going to curl up here on the jetway and get some shuteye."

"Go ahead. You've earned it. Wait, how have you found a way to sleep with all of these planes landing directly beside you?"

"I just try to picture myself dead. Works most of the time."

No. LaGuardia airport just happens to be in Queens, not far at all from where I live in Astoria. I like it because there is no way I will live this close to an airport again. Never. Unless one day, I move to Mexico to sell drugs and have my own airstrip on my property.

"Ah, my own airport. You know, this reminds me of the time I spent in New York. I lived really close to an airport."

"As close to this one, boss?"

"Who told you to speak to me! I am a drug kingpin and you are merely a man who moves suitcases from one spot to another. I will cut your head off! I will blow up your family! I will rain BULLETS UPON YOUR DREAMS! ...I'm sorry. I just have to practice being a druglord. You know how it is. Only my third week. But to answer your question, yes. Yes, it was this close."

In May, there was a poll on "The Ten Worst Airports in America". What was number one? LaGuardia. But the top five included EVERY airport in New York. All three airports made the top five. Basically, if you want to fly to New York, just don't. Drive, get a bus, hike, walk, ride a horse, crawl. Apparently ANYTHING is better than landing here.

"Where are you flying?"

"New York."

"Yikes! Hope it's not into any of the airports."

"Well... yeah, of course it is. Where else would it land?"

"Whoa! That's awful! Landing at an airport in New York? Bud, if you can, right before the plane lands, jump out. The pain you feel when you hit the tarmac will be less than the pain you feeling having to wait an extraordinary amount of time for your bag. Trust me. I waited there a month ago. The whole time, all I could think was, "I'd rather have cracked my head on the runway than wait for my own stuff."

I'm honestly not sure why it matters that much how good an airport is. Do planes land there? Will the plane that I'm on let me get off of it at this particular location? What else is there?

"It's not clean."

How long are you going to be spending in this airport? If it were great, would you just hang out there?

"I'm kinda hungry."

"Me too. You want to head to the gorgeous food court at the airport?"

"The airport? Why would we go out there?"

"Man, have you been there!? It's amazing! So many food options. It's really the only place I eat since they fixed it up. Oh, and the shopping? Unbelievable. They truly have the best selection of Lacoste polos in the city."

"...You don't wear Lacoste polos."

"Not the ones found out in these dirty streets! But the ones from the airport? They're something else."

LaGuardia is a small airport, but I don't know why that's a problem for people. You can still fly out of it. It's not as if you show up and hope that your plane will be leaving.

"I have a flight out of LaGuardia. It's so tiny that they draw numbers to see which planes will be flying out. I hope to JESUS they draw mine this time. Come on, six!"

You are still able to get out of the airport. You can still fly! Why does it matter that it's small?

"Man, what an inconvenience. This airport is so small; I can get directly to my gate in four minutes. That's ridiculous! I want to have to drag my bag through the airport, past the little mall that most other airports have. This airport doesn't even have an L.L. Bean store that I can walk by and think, 'Who the hell would shop at the airport?' Why take that joy away from me, LaGuardia? Why!?"

LaGuardia airport feels homey. It's almost as if you are landing in your grandmother's house. It's small enough that it feels as if it's hugging you when you land there. The ceilings are just as low and it's starting to fall apart just like your grandmother's.

"Watch out for the crown molding, honey. Last night a tile fell off and hit me right in the face! Blew my dentures right out. I laid on the floor for an hour before I was able to get up. Either way, would you like a cookie?"

The bigger an airport gets, the more completely useless things appear in it. A lot of airports are too big and just end up having a ton of things in them that you don't need.

"You know, we have four hundred gates here, but I'm thinking that we are missing something."

"I was thinking the same thing. …I know! What about a barber shop?"

"Yeah, that's great! For people who have layovers that are three days long, they can keep their hair looking great!"

"Exactly! And what about a tire rotation and oil change booth?"

"I love it! For the people who drive to the airport to park and fly. Before they leave, they can get a check-up on their car while they wait for their bags!"

"Right! Oh, oh. And what about a delivery room for women who just land and are tired of carrying around that bothersome baby?"

"Dear, God! This is going to be the biggest, best airport in the world!"

People talk badly about airports as if everything is completely fine with the planes. Too small, no leg room, people in front of you couldn't care less if you have knees after the flight and will lean their chair right into your face.

"Excuse me, do you mind not looking me in the eyes? I know I'm in your lap, but I paid for this seat and all of the leaning back it can do."

Why, though, are we so worried about the place the plane lands when the device that flew us to this location is not great? If you rented a car that was terrible to drive to Buffalo, you can't JUST be mad at Buffalo when you get there.

"This car had no room for me to put my stuff, I had to pay extra just to be able to roll down the windows and be comfortable, and it was RUDE to me the entire way. Man, I'm going to take all of this anger out on the place the car took me. Buffalo! Here I come, you garbage city. I hate everyone who lives here, and your ridiculous questions like, "Man, it must be cold in Canada, huh? Like the ice ages." You can see Canada! You see any Mastodons walking around over there! God, I hate this place."

Also, flights to LaGuardia actually end up where they say they are going. In New York. LaGuardia is actually IN New York. That's a big one for me. An airport that is where it says that it is. If you are flying from Canada with Porter, they will tell you they fly to New York.

"New York? Of COURSE we go there! Why would we not fly to the greatest city on earth? You can't be an airline and not fly to such a tourist destination."

But they do not fly to New York. Nope. Where do they land? Newark, New Jersey. Admittedly, New Jersey is not insanely far from New York, but it is New Jersey. New York? No. No, it is not. It is the state beside New York. They fly into a different state! Not only do they not fly into New York City, they don't even land in New York state! The entire state – they don't touch it. New Jersey is a completely different place, with different laws. One law that's different in New Jersey is that you need a state permit to purchase a long gun. New York? Not at all. You can walk right in and get one.

"Where's my permit? Hey, eat it, buddy. I was almost pissed on three times on the way over here by people who thought I was a unicorn. Gimme the damn long gun, pal."

Why do people allow this? Yeah it's close, but it's not where it says it's going.

"All right, everyone. We are now going to start our non-stop flight to Orlando, Florida. Now that the doors are closed and there's nothing you can do, I'll tell you that we'll be flying to Jacksonville! Yes, you're right, it's NOT Orlando, but it is closer to Orlando than where you are right now. Right? Am I right? We will be coming around soon with complimentary peanuts for everyone. 'Peanuts' is a loose term. It also encompasses poisons and snake venom, so who knows what you'll get. We just never say what we mean around here!"

Twitter @nathanmacintosh

Gentrification. I don't know.

Gentrification. I had never really heard the word before I moved to NY. Well, I might have, but it wasn't said enough for me to really hang onto it. In NY, though, I've heard it a million times.

"I'll have a burger with cheese, lettuce, tomatoes and gentrification."

"Sir, you can't get a burger with gentrification."

"You can't get a white person to make it?"

"Oh. Yes, I can do that."

"That's what I said! Gentrification!"

It sort of sounded like 'gentrified' meant that an area that was once radioactive wasn't any longer.

"You can't go into Chernobyl. It hasn't been gentrified yet!"

"Well, gentrify it! We have to put a vegan dog food store there!"

"Vegan dog food? That's great! My dog gets an upset stomach when he eats meat."

"Then gentrify it, goddamn it! Gentrify!"

Anytime someone said it, they talked about it as if it were the greatest thing ever. So I really started to pay attention, and started to become angry about it.

From what I can gather from the conversations I've heard, gentrification is just the act of rich white people moving into an area that they were scared to go into before. Am I wrong about that? If so, tell me – but this is what I've been able to take from certain conversations.

"Yeah, it's not bad over there now. It's gentrified."

"Oh. What does that mean?"

"It means that people who look like me live there now. You know, the non-bad people."

"What? I don't know. That sounds horrible."

"Why? Are you scared of white people? Man, they're not the ones to be scared of! Unless you don't know any Beatles trivia. They get pretty upset about that. Quick! Is Paul actually dead? ...Took too long to answer! They're gonna hate you."

The definition of gentrification is when wealthier people move into or rent property in low-income places, which generally displaces the poorer, pre-gentrification residents who can't afford the higher rents and are forced to move. Now, when you read that, does that sound good to anyone? Why move into a neighborhood full of poor people and push them out? Why would you love their neighborhoods so much but dislike the people who live there?

"Man, this neighborhood is great. The feel, the vibe, the music and art that comes from it. The landscape. The history. The only problem is the dirty poor people who created all of those things."

"I know. It's a damn shame. I love sitting here, looking at these nice paintings and listening to this music, but these damn poor people are EVERYwhere."

"I know. Let's buy these buildings we like so much, and raise the rent to something only people we like to look at and talk to can afford!"

"That... is... brilliant. Let's do that right after this jazz band finishes. MAN, these poor people are talented!"

"Yeah, but not at fitting into the tiny world we have!"

"Yeah!"

<High Five>

So let me try to understand – a neighborhood can only be deemed good when rich white people live there? Really? Is the Caribbean no good? Giant parts of Africa, Asia and South America?

"Honey, I'd love to go on this trip to Ecuador, but it hasn't been gentrified yet. I mean… <whispering> those uncivilized people live there!"

"But honey, once we get there, we WILL be gentrifying it. We can show those people how to live!"

"I never thought of that. You're right! Do you think they have an Edwin Watts Golf shop down there?"

"They will soon!"

I'm sure it's only a matter of time before rich white people gentrify all of these places. Why stop at neighborhoods? We'll take trips to poor parts of the world and only stay on resorts. Why not move into the rest of it?

"You can go to Kingston, Jamaica now, white people. It's been gentrified! We shipped several Ivy League families down there and they've really been making use of the land. There is now a yoga studio in Bob Marley's old house. Also, now there is a reggae studio and beanery! Learn how to make the music you love by people who scare you while enjoying your favorite latte!"

It's been done before. By definition, technically, the British gentrified North America. Right? The natives were living off the land and the British came in and raised the rent to something they couldn't afford. Their lives. You can pay once, but that's it. Moved in where complete 'savages' were – people who 'didn't know how to use the land' – and made it habitable for future generations.

"Oh, yeah, it's really nice over there. Well, NOW it is. At first, there were these crazy people living there off the land. Really nice, cordial and welcoming, but man, they had to go! It's a good thing they were into blankets. Killed them all off!"

Is that not to some degree a form of racism and classism? A place is deemed worthy to live in because one group decided it was okay once THEY got there? That seems completely awful, but these people will talk about it as if it's the greatest thing to ever happen.

"No, no. It's a great place now because people who look, act, think and dress like me live there! Yeah, beforehand, when it was just poor people who didn't look like me, there was no WAY I was going to go there. But now I can walk down the street and say, "Hey, do you guys remember Nintendo?" and have people who look LIKE ME come out and say, 'Yes! Of course we do!' Ah, man. It's great. I will say, though, that these poor people who don't look like me really made the neighborhood look interesting. The destroyed buildings, the dirty streets. They really did a lot with a little. Anyway, they're gone now. Want to go pretend to understand how they live by 'slumming it' in a expensive bar that was built in an old meth lab?"

Rich white people are fascinated by these neighborhoods, but won't go to them until other rich white people build over the poor people who live there.

"Oh, yes, there is poverty here, but we really like the view! So we build condos directly on top of these poor skeazebags. I mean, if they had any money, they'd have enough sense to move out of the way, am I right? Anyways, the foundation of a lot of these buildings is pretty weak since they literally sit on under-privileged kids and families. I keep telling the contractors, 'Don't build directly ON them, their bones are disgustingly weak from all the years of terrible, cheap food. But do they listen to me? Of course not. Don't lean on that wall. It's made entirely out of poor seven year olds. Nice, though, huh?"

Gentrification is a pretty slick word as well. A lot of times it's not just poor neighborhoods that are gentrified, it's predominately black neighborhoods. Rich white people are horrified to live around poor black people.  Remember the look of horror on the lawyers face right before the T-rex ate him in Jurassic Park? Same thing.
"Oh no! Poor AND black! I heard one of them ate a guys face! Ahhhhh!"
So, they will buy their neighborhoods for cheap and push them out. You can't do that and call it what it actually is.

"I have an idea for this process. 'We don't like poor black people on many levels. One, we don't know how to live with them. Two, we are completely horrified of them in every way. Three, they do not look like us'."

"I agree with you one hundred percent, but we can't put that on a sign. That is just too long to say."

"Okay, okay. How about, 'Get Out Poor Darkies'?

"Listen, you know I love it, but I don't think the public will respond to it so well."

"All right, well I'll come up with a word. You sure you don't want to use poor darkie? What about 'Not-Enough-Money-Colored-People'?

"Haha, man, you're killing me, but no. Ah, Jesus. 'Not-Enough-Money-Colored-People'. Hilarious. Want to get a Jamba Juice?"

One thing that's gross to me about it – is that rich white people have enough. You've got it! You need these neighborhoods? It'd be the same as if the first class citizens on the Titanic just decided to go down to the third class.

"Oh, my. Look at it down here! It's rather intriguing. My boy, give me four hundred dollars to stay or get out."

"Get out!? Where would I go? I'm not allowed up any stair case!"

"Well, you are allowed out that window. Don't touch it with your dirty destitute hands when you dive through it, though. I want to put my hat near it."

Most of the neighborhoods that become gentrified are completely torn apart! A lot of poor people don't even want to live there, but rich white people will come in and say how great it is.

"Look. It feels homey, right?"

"I don't know. It looks like old news footage of war torn Kosovo. That building has three walls, and that appears to be a stack of old abandoned cars."

"I know! Homey, right? And that's not just any stack of old abandoned cars. That's my new gluten-free shop!"

"Gluten-free what?"

"Gluten-free everything! Gluten-free-gluten even!"

I love as well, that when a neighborhood becomes gentrified, rich white kids will live there and try to act as if they are poor.

"I've had three floors in a house, a giant backyard, everything I ever wanted, a mom and dad my whole life. I hate it! I wonder what it's like to live in a place that even roaches throw up in? I'll try it, and if someone starts talking about being poor, I'll be able to relate by telling him or her that once, for Christmas, all I got was a Kia Sportage. What an awful Christmas."

What is a rich white person’s fascination with being poor? Why the hell must you mock people who have to live through it by dipping your toe in and saying you that you know something about it? Rich white people want to try and pretend that they also have it rough. They'll gentrify a neighborhood, only hang out with other rich white people in this neighborhood, and tell stories about how tough the area used to be.

"Guys, you have NO idea how bad this place used to be before we got here. I mean, for instance, these bicycles that are hanging from the walls of this bar? They were left on the streets by poor ethnic people! Yeah, I know. Sometimes, if you listen closely, you can hear them peddling, having a good time, having fun despite their surroundings, which for some reason when you have money is impossible to do. Oh, and this bar? It used to be a building where poor ethnic people LIVED! Yeah, right here! Where you are sitting, six years ago, could have been a spot where a poor person stood. Isn't that gross? I know. Let's order the cheapest beers and act as if we have it as hard as he did."

If you, as a rich white kid, want to live in one of these places because it's cheap, don't act as if you have it hard. If other people like you are going to buy this property, and raise the rent to something that poor people can't afford so they leave, don't then try to act like those poor people! Poor is not just a financial situation. It's a state of mind. Don't try to dress, talk and have the same demeanor. Don't have it all and act as if you don't. Don't be ninety-eight pounds ironically around people who are that weight because they have no choice, and walk through their neighborhood pretending to have culture.

"Hey, man! You're starving, too? Right on."

"Yeah, I don't have any money."

"Oh. Not me, man. My family has lots of it. I'm just trying to fit in with you. So seriously, when are you calling your parents to get a few bucks?"

"...My parents don't have any money."

"Ah... well, yeah, me too!"

Twitter- @nathanmacintosh