Let me tell you about the time I accidentally set my microwave popcorn on fire in 2019. Flames shot everywhere, smoke alarms screamed like banshees, and my roommate still calls me ‘Kernel Panic.’ But hey, at least I didn’t do it to a sleeping human being on the 3 train. Yet according to federal prosecutors, that’s exactly what an 18-year-old high school senior named Hiram Carrero did this week, tossing burning paper onto a 56-year-old man like some deranged birthday candle ritual. The victim staggered off at Times Square looking like a human torch. Critical condition. But sure, everyone, keep telling me subway crime is down.

Now I know what you’re thinking. ‘But the NYPD says this November was the safest outside pandemic years!’ Commissioner Jessica Tisch said it herself last week. Great. Wonderful. Let’s throw a parade for the statistically least-flammable November since 2020. Meanwhile, actual human beings are getting lit up like Roman candles underground. This isn’t just about one psycho with a Bic lighter. This is about the gaslighting olympics our leaders are playing when they swap bloodstains for spreadsheets.

Listen, I rode the F train for five years straight. I know what ‘safe’ feels like. And let me tell you, ‘safe’ doesn’t involve side-eyeing every teenager with a crumpled piece of paper. Safe doesn’t mean memorizing which cars have working emergency exits after that lady got roasted alive last December. I remember Mayor Adams doing press conferences about ‘subway safety surges’ while platform musicians played ‘Disco Inferno’ for irony points. Burn baby burn indeed.

Here’s the thing that kills me. They’ll haul this kid into court. They’ll talk about his disabled mom. They’ll mention he’s a senior. All valid details! But not a single politician will stand up and say the quiet part loud: Our cities are failing at basic human containment. We’ve got kids who think immolation is a valid commute activity. We’ve got judges debating whether to send him home to mommy after he allegedly tried to cremate a stranger. When did ‘heinous’ become ‘eh, house arrest maybe’?

I grew up in Jersey where ‘taking the train to NYC’ was a rite of passage. My dad gave me two rules in 2015: Don’t make eye contact with shouting men, and if someone lights up near you, move cars. Notice he didn’t say ‘if someone lights YOU up.’ That’s new. That’s 2025’s special sauce. Now we’ve got prosecutors using phrases like ‘arson resulting in injury’ like it’s a misdemeanor parking ticket. Newsflash: Barbecuing commuters isn’t ‘injury.’ It’s attempted murder with extra crispy styling.

And don’t get me started on the victim blaming Olympics that’s coming. Watch how fast this becomes about homelessness, mental health, or immigrant status. Remember last year’s subway fire victim? That poor woman Debrina Kawam? Her autopsy got more political spin than a NASCAR pit stop. First she was a ‘homeless crisis symbol.’ Then an ‘immigration policy failure.’ By the time the Post finished, they’d practically implied she’d asked to be set ablaze for the free hospital meal. Never mind that her killer fled scot-free for months. But sure, re-elect the guy who promised ‘subway ambassadors’ with candy and maps. What we needed were flame-retardant suits!

The hypocrisy here isn’t just political. It’s existential. We’re trapped in this feedback loop where mayors brag about crime stats while nursing scalding coffee from bodegas that now stock burn cream next to the Slim Jims. Where social workers shrug and say ‘kids will be kids’ until those kids are experimenting with human combustion. Where judges release arsonists to ‘home confinement’ like they’re COVID patients, not walking fire hazards. I keep waiting for the Onion headline: ‘NYC Subway Adds Flame Broiled Option to Dining Car.’

Let’s talk about solutions, since my blood pressure needs the distraction. First: Stop measuring safety in percentage drops. Nobody feels 15% safer when their pants could catch fire. Second: Quit pretending court theatrics equal justice. Locking up this one kid won’t fix whatever sickness makes lighting sleeping people seem like a fun Tuesday. Third: Maybe admit our cities need a Marshall Plan level intervention. New subways. Better cops. Mental health systems that don’t require spontaneous combustion to get attention. Hell, at this rate I’d settle for fireproof benches.

I’ll leave you with this. Last month, I saw three NYPD officers at Fulton Station helping a tourist find the Freedom Tower. That’s nice! Also, zero checking bags despite last summer’s machete attacks. That’s naive! We’ve balanced so deep into ‘community policing’ softness that we forgot some people just need to be kept away from matches and humanity. Until leaders admit that stats won’t stop human torches, grab your extinguishers, folks. The only thing dropping faster than subway crime rates is my faith in basic survival.