IPH YUCANN MAYKE IT THER, GETHELP

Each word is taken from the vanity plate master list issued by the DMV

*

DO IH8NY? MOI? WHOSEZZ?

IM ANXNYR. IKNOWE ANDI

LUVV THOS MAMOTH MIDTOWN

SKYSCPR TOWERS, WAYUPHI,

DOZE MP8IENT STREETZ,

ZAT 1UVAKYN, DMANDNG,

NUTZOID POPULUS.

*

NOI DONTH8 NOOYRK. IHATE

“NYNY,” THAT ANNOYN

SONG WITH ITTS QSTNABL

MESSAGE.

*

“THEEZE VGABND SHOOOZZ

ARE LONGIN TTO STRAY . . .”

OHOH. DSINGA DUZ BLEEV

SHOEZ KAN COMUNK8! EVDNTLY

DSINGER IZ SIKOTYK. ITZ

SDBTTRU, ZE TIPIKAL MNTLKAS

REGARDZ NEUYAWK AS HIZ

ORR HER PERSONL MECCA.

*

RSINGER BRAGZZ ABOUT

“ZCITY DAT DUZZ NOTT SLEEPE.”

OVCOORS, WEKNOW DATT

KRONIK NSOMNIA OTT2 BBE

TAAKEN SERUSLY, NOT MADE

GLAMRUS INA CHEEEZY

POPSONG. IFFFFF UCANT

SLEEP, ATLEEST LIEDOWN.

*

MOR2 THA PNT, IDOBLEV

DESE LYRIX GIVVAN NCMPLTE

PORTR8 OF NYC. ITTIS

CHEATN 2WRITE ASONG NAMD

“NUUYRK, NOOYRK” UND

*

2LEEF OWT THE 1MILYON

YELLLO CABS DRIVENN BI

ANGRY FELLOWZ 2DRUNK 2C

TH WNDSHLD, 24GET DA

FLYIN RATZ BIGR DEN

PIGZ ANND TO BYPASS

ZEE ISSUE UV SOMANY

HUMID DAYZ IN DSUMMER.

*

RMEMBER, IFUCAN MAKE ITT

DERE, PEEPL WIL ALWAEZ

ASUME YOULLDO NETHING

2WIN, NOMATER HOWE

SLEZEE, DSTURBD, DISONST,

UNNATRL OR MEAN.

*

HEYYY, MEBBE IOTT2 MUVBAK.

*

* For translation of PL8SPK, please see Page 36. Illustration by Chris Sharp

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX / INFOGRAPHIC)

If You Can Make It There, Get Help

Do I hate New York? Moi? Who says? I’m an ex-New Yorker. I know and I love those mammoth Midtown skyscraper towers, way up high, those impatient streets, that one-of-a-kind, demanding, nutzoid populace.

No, I don’t hate New York, I hate “New York, New York,” that annoying song with its questionable message.

“These vagabond shoes are longing to stray” . . . Uh-oh. The singer does believe shoes can communicate! Evidently the singer is psychotic. It’s sad but true, the typical mental case regards New York as his or her personal Mecca.

Our singer brags about “the city that does not sleep.” Of course, we know that chronic insomnia ought to be taken seriously, not made glamorous in a cheesy pop song. If you can’t sleep, at least lie down.

More to the point, I believe these lyrics give an incomplete portrait of New York City. It is cheating to write a song named “New York, New York” and to leave out the 1 million yellow cabs driven by angry fellows too drunk to see the windshield, to forget the flying rats bigger than pigs and to bypass the issue of so many humid days in the summer.

Remember, if you can make it there, people will always assume you’ll do anything to win, no matter how sleazy, disturbed, dishonest, unnatural or mean.

Hey, maybe I ought to move back.