Passio GO!-Fuck-Yourself
The Great Shuttle Besuckening.
“The insect of greatest virtue […] the pattern on the cicada’s head, like the belt of a man’s hat, signifies its erudition; its diet of air and dew signifies its purity; its refusal to consume crops signifies its incorruptibility; its lack of nests signifies its frugality; its punctual reappearance signifies its trustworthiness. Surely we must crown it and win its blessings!” - Lu Yun, c. 265-420
I’ve given the issue some thought, and have decided that if I ever met the creator of Passio GO!, I would express my appreciation for their invention by punching them in the face. Straightforward; direct; gets my message across. A fitting send-up for the most infamous of Harvard’s approximately three thousand subcontractors.
Not without cause, I had long considered myself a master of the Passio GO! art form. I actually ride the shuttle with some regularity, dispensing wisdom to the many people who daily marvel at my ability to sometimes arrive to class on time. Compared to the median Harvard student, this command of the bus system is prize-worthy.
See, you can’t really read Passio GO! for reliable information. Too simple by half! Rather, I tell my Passio GO! neophytes to understand the app as the platonic ideal of an unreliable narrator. Its time estimates are predicated on the assumption that not only is there no traffic on the route, but also that the shuttle drivers are ex-Daytona racers who have been given qualified immunity to mow down pedestrians as they see fit. The location tracking feature adopts a critical theory lens to ask: what is “location,” really? A state of geographic being? Positionality? If you think about it, Passio GO! saying that Bus 208 is in the middle of the Charles River is actually radical anti-imperial praxis.
Some have speculated that what few resources Harvard devotes towards the bus system, it shovels directly into the Quad bus. After all, that route seems to run on something approximating a clock. But this is giving the shuttles way too much credit. What actually happens is that the Quad bus travels exclusively on the fast-moving Mass Ave, making next-to-no turns and benefiting from a green-arrow left signal. So the Quad bus tends to run on time-ish, relatively speaking, in spite of (not because of) all the university’s best efforts.
The Quad bus is the exception, not the rule, though. Ever tried catching the Mather Express from the wrong side of the tracks (the Science Center)? I was once ordering a scrumptious saag paneer takeaway meal at the plaza food trucks, when I opened Passio GO! to watch the bus Tokyo-drift across Harvard Yard. I sprinted to the nearest stop — and reader, that bus was twenty-seven minutes late. I could have walked back to Mather, reheated and eaten my saag paneer, taken a shot of fireball, kissed the homies on both lips, and still caught the shuttle.
I hate hate hate hate the shuttle system. I hate the buses more than I hate turkeys, and more than I hate bad op-eds. If I were being subjected to the death penalty and were given the option of choosing my mode of transportation to my execution, I would ask to ride on one of the logo-embroidered seats of a Harvard shuttle tracked by Passio GO! — because then I’d know it would NEVER FUCKING GET THERE!
The Crimson recently reported that the Harvard Transportation Services office is exploring alternatives to Passio GO! to succeed the app when its contract expires at the end of the calendar year. But Associate Dean of Students Lauren Brandt also reportedly said that Harvard’s contract with Passio GO” “does not allow for [alternatives]” and that the was “the best out there.”
Now, far be it from me to call Dean Brandt a liar. In fact, she’s absolutely correct. Passio GO! is the best in the biz. As befits a Harvard education, it challenges students to think critically about the nature of urban life itself. No other app requires the intense problem-solving, time management, or high-level math skills that a student should have to be worthy of their degree. Passio GO! is a masterpiece.
In the face of an utterly befuckened system, the only realistic solution is abject nihilism. Shed your preconceived notions of what it means to receive a “competent” and “accurate” service from the university to which you pay tuition. Wait for the shuttle, for as long as it takes. Only then will you come away enlightened.