Remember standing in line for that one crazy rollercoaster ride with anxious thoughts emerging in the back of your mind. Remember having your ticket taken and being ushered toward your cart with those unnerving thoughts moving closer to the fore. Remember sitting in your cart knowing this is your last chance to bail before the attendant comes by to check on your restraints. Remember the palpable sense of doom that descended upon you as the grim-faced attendant locked you in place. Remember the queasy knot tightening sharply in your gut when your cart lurched forward and began ratcheting its way toward that first big momentum producing hill. Remember, half way up the hill, when the stranger sitting next to you turned his head and said he used to work at the theme park but had to quit because of major depression. Remember when he looked at you with those sunken, nihilistic eyes and said that this particular ride should have been dismantled years ago due to several major safety concerns but was kept in operation. Remember when you swallowed hard and asked him why as you reached the dizzying top and the full panorama of the city came into view. Remember when he gave you a sickly smile and said the answer to your question was simple: This MOTHERFUCKING RIDE is the park’s biggest generator of REVENUE, he cackled loudly at the beginning of your descent.