Every day, millions of New York City subway riders are subjected to a constant barrage of advertising. Plastered to nearly every underground surface, the media is meant to be one-way only, designed to lull the consumer into mute obedient action. A few outspoken smart-asses take matters into their own hands, talking back to the blatant manipulation thrust in their faces. Scribbling, tearing, scratching and defacing, they make their voices heard in return. These adverse reactions rise up like antibodies to reprogram the corporate virus, creating new meanings which are alternately hilarious, troubling, incisive, or just plain bizarre. I find and document this everyman’s dada, a popular art form that captures the projections, discontent and humor of New Yorkers.