The MTA Lacks Proactivity

By: Saint Twenty
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Pay for what? As often as the MTA has service disruptions there’s literally no plan of action other than shutting down the lines, making it difficult for passengers to get to work, or wherever they’re going in the city that never sleeps. This is after all New York. There’s no switching tracks, just major inconveniences for millions, who fleeing the subway cause surge prices on top of that weekly or monthly metro card. If they can even afford to take a car. Suddenly an affordable $34 for a week’s transport has an added $40 due to whatever malfunction plagues the worker that day. Worse, denizens are robbed of both time and money, as many are fired without a second thought despite planning ahead with the plethora of subways apps, including the MTA’s.

Not to mention everyone who rides is at the mercy of the homeless, junkies and mentally ill. Can’t afford the asylum you belong in, cool we’ll drop you off on 125th and Lexington, a literal portal to hell. Go ahead terrorize everyone, smoke crack on the platform at 8pm (seen with my own two eyes, gobsmacked). Better yet let’s have reduced service, but no buses for thirty minutes on the weekend. Why allow anyone to enjoy their free time. Work weekends? That’s a you problem. Good luck surviving. I mean the L is out of service from Manhattan to Brooklyn every other weekend.

What is a New Yorker to do in this new Atlantis? Where the rent isn’t at all affordable, student loans indebt them for life, making stimulating the economy with the reckless abandon that comes with youth impossible (all those clubs closed in the UK because kids can’t afford it, not sober living, as per the comment section). How do you relieve stress while attempting upward mobility? Let’s just keep building unnecessary skyscrapers that are sinking Manhattan, that nobody wants, since people are leaving in droves due to all aforementioned problems. Including the creatives that make this city special. Too expensive, too dangerous.

Let’s not forget being treated as second class citizen in your own country due to the influx of migrants we don’t have the resources for, spreading whatever chaos they left behind across our borders (read The Border Crisis And ITIN Policy). Why are we paying to live in an expensive prison/homeless shelter/asylum? Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results. Screw progress, let’s keep putting money over people, it’s working out really, really well guys. People hop the turnstile, because why not? Why throw your hard earned dollars into the chasm that is the subway system? Ask yourself are the people making the decisions for the city daily train riders? Even so, aren’t their high falutin positions secured? Maybe we should send in our taxi receipts and get discounts for the continuous, endless, shitty service. Maybe people should sue for losing their jobs. What do you think? This is no way for folks to live, the people deserve better. Where’s the lie? None were told. You can’t even have an excursion without fear of hours, hours, of your life being taken in mass confusion.Via: The New York Times

Updated: 9/15/2024 11:42pm

Jann Wenner’s White Audacity

By: Saint Twenty
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Could Jann Wenner be Ernst Rohm reincarnated? I’d say totally, if Rohm weren’t burning in hell as earned. Both are racist misogynist, with misguided beliefs of white superiority. Wenner the co-found of Rolling Stone Magazine made his viewpoints crystal clear, declining to interview women and all black people for his book. Not articulate enough to be masters of the craft. You mean the craft of rock n roll, the one black people created and white people stole? The irony of how fucking dumb you are.

Your basic white ass thinks you know more about rock n roll than Tina Turner, Little Richard or Chuck Berry? Chuck Berry who Elvis stole EVERYTHING from, then credited as being the creator. How fucking dare you. You who have created nothing except a career stemming from black innovation. From women who have changed the world. You think you know more than Stevie Nicks? Carly Simon? Carol King? What pieces have you created to match theirs? You’re nothing but a plantation master, profiting off others work. Yet have the nerve to question Stevie fucking Wonder. You a nobody without them.
Let me, the only divine here until I create them, a black woman, articulate something for you. You and your entire line will burn eternally, including that doofy, block headed, basic Karen girlfriend your son is dating and her sister. Birds of a feather people. Look who he praises as masters, Mick Jagger, who also profits off the aforementioned culture, Paul McCartney, who I’m sure beat the hell out of Heather Mills, gaslit her and had people cover for him. That’s what’s y’all did to me. I’m only going by your social circle, who you defended, and your children’s behavior Paul. Your behavior as well. You showed your true colors. You still believe it’s the 60s and women are rugs to step on. At least The Rolling Stones credit black people, unlike their racists, mediocre, idiot children. Y’all gonna learn your place, courtesy of Athena. Enjoy your time. Via: The New York Times, The Independent & Today

Serving Looks, Serving Maripol

By: Saint Twenty
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Best fashion compliment of my life? Maripol, who I was stunned to meet in Graceland (a room covered wall to wall, top to bottom with photographs of Grace Jones, most taken by the aforementioned party) when Serge Becker introduced her. “You were just in The New York Times,” I blurted out leaving them astonished.

“Yeah,” she smiled slightly. We all went back to glum.

I continued setting up before making my way to the back dining room next door, turns out I was her server. For those not up to speed she created Madonna’s iconic Boy Toy look and styled Grace Jones. A legendary renaissance woman apart of a golden age of art from the 70’s-80’s, running in the most coveted social circles on the scene. Needless to say her standards were tip top bitch. And here I was fifteen minutes late in the first place, deciding to wear my Halloween costume for David Bowie who passed that day. Rocking a silk lavender jumpsuit, switching the scarf out for a black floral one, instead of the orange birds I originally donned. Tying it into a voluminous bow, that burst like a bouquet. “That’s a serious jumpsuit,” Serge commented earlier that evening, freaked out “I just dropped off flowers that exact color to Iman.” He stared incredulous by the coincidence, because coincidences don’t really exist, only synchronicity. Now, under Maripol’s appraising eye the pressure was on in more ways than one and no matter how hard I tried to please her service wise, she was unimpressed. Never enough water, never enough ice, the drinks were slow. Testing me, I knew.

I just kept going, complaining at the service bar that she might actually hate me. After a grueling effort the night ended. “Nice outfit,” Maripol said, leaving a generous tip.
“Thank you, it’s my homage to Bowie.”
“It’s beautiful.”

After being hawked and her whispering to the blonde next to her, I swore she hated everything about me. But it was option two, she was giving me shit because she liked me too much. This is a moment I will savior forever, fortunate enough just to meet her. What was the best fashion compliment you’ve ever received? Via: Documenting Fashion & Strip Project