All the news that's fit to recycle

I've grown accustomed to many aspects of my daily commute - fighting for a seat on the morning train, heavily armed police officers patrolling the subway and train station, women wearing half bottles of perfume, the homeless people in Penn Station - but there are just some things that still mystify me. Some things I never would have imagined growing up in my North Carolina hamlet. Namely, I routinely see grown men, men wearing suits and expensive overcoats, pulling newspapers out of the trashcan to read in Penn Station.

Now, I have nothing against recycling. And I am happy when people dispose of their newspapers rather than toss them on the ground or leave them on the seats of the train.  But are times really so bad that people cannot afford to buy a 50-cent newspaper? Are these investment bankers so hard up that they must rummage through public trash cans to read the latest bad economic news? (I guess in fairness I should say that these people usually take newspapers off the top of the trash heap, a la George eating the eclair from the trash can on Seinfeld. But I think I side with Jerry on this one: on top of the trash is still in the trash.)

So, ye readers, weep for the bankers, the day traders, the suited masses,

For those that so recently lived the modern lives of kings

Are themselves unable to feed their brains nor clothe their asses,

Whist heavens' angels, heavy hearted, beat their wings

Nevermore, nevermore.