There’s an article, “Seven rules to avoid a total breakdown of order on the T,” in the Weekly Dig here. Most of these have to do with getting on and off the train, and, of course, no reasonable person could disagree that following the common-sense and universally agreed-upon practices listed would not only make riding more efficient, but would make life in general considerably more pleasant on a number of levels, too. But do we really want that?

Think about it, Red Sox Nation. I mean, remember the collective whine that went up after the euphoria of the curse-reversal wore off? Bostonians don’t want things to go well. They don’t like it when things run efficiently. They feel disoriented. It scares them. And they would totally short-circuit if all the sudden strangers turned all polite on them. One or two a year is OK. Restores our faith in humankind, and all that. But if it happened all the time? It would turn our reality upside down. We’d have to reconsider all our assumptions, and who has time for that? And then you’d be paranoid about whether it was real, or you were in some kind of through-the-looking-glass twilight zone nightmare alternate reality, or what.

I mean, it’s gotta be psychological, because I’ll tell you this: it takes more effort not to follow the “rules” on the T than it does to follow them. Everywhere in the world, everyone knows them. Because they’re intuitive. You can’t get on the train until the people inside get off. That’s not etiquette, that’s physics, people.

Granted, there are a lot of different kinds of folks using public transit, and many seem challenged in various ways. You got your immigrants and agoraphobes. And these nervous types who are always afraid the train’s gonna take off from the station without ‘em. Or maybe that they’re gonna get chopped in two by those lethal “non-recycling” doors (or at the very least that they’re gonna lose their tails).

Sad as it is, I really do think fear of mutilation and dismemberment is their motivation, and I think the T plays on that for its own evil amusement. Especially on the orange line. Orange line conductors are brutal. They clearly enjoy shutting the doors on people, because it gives them the opportunity not only to take out a few, but to scream and curse at the passengers they so despise.

There are also those who have been socialized into the underground war of all against all. Their daily commute is about survival of the fittest. And I say to them: who’s the enemy here? It’s not you and me, brutha. It’s the T. They want to divide and conquer.

Worst of all are the Commuters With Attitude (CWAs). These are the cunts who block the doors inside the train. “You want out, you’re gonna have to go through me.” I mean, what’s the point? You wanna be a real rebel? Be polite.

I think in addition to better conductor-training, the T should have a rider’s handbook. And roving psychologists to address the various fears, inhibitions, megalomania, and psychotic tendencies of commuters.