All aboard, departing never

As we, like pigs in a factory farm, pack into overcrowded if not derailed subway cars and trudge through dank, dysfunctional Penn Station, a technological wizard named Elon Musk directs our attention toward the heavens and dares us to dream. Actually, he’s pointing down, beneath the earth, with the tweeted tease that his Boring Company (get it?) has “received verbal govt approval” to tunnel from New York City to Philadelphia to Baltimore to Washington.

(Forget for the moment that “verbal” is a caveat rendering the noun it modifies meaningless, and, besides, nobody can find a public official who has given him the OK.)

Into that new tunnel, now merely theoretical, would go not an A train nor even an Acela (top speed 150 mph, which it hits for just a couple short stretches of track), but a hyperloop.

A hyperloop, the 22nd century infrastructure that Musk, of Tesla and SpaceX, has envisioned to take people from city center to city center via pods in magnetically levitating, almost airless tubes.

Top speed: 760 mph, putting even jets to shame. The mere thought of it is enough to make us piggies squeal.

So too, the notion of digging tunnels with Musk’s newfangled tech, which promises to reduce costs “by a factor of more than 10” by completely rethinking the way the drudgery is done.

We piggies — who watched the Second Ave. subway take 100 years to finish, and who’ve been promised a new commuter-rail tunnel under the Hudson (for $13 billion) — would be rolling in slop.

There’s just one bit of newfangled, next-gen magic that might be beyond the imagination of even a visionary like Musk: navigating the Byzantine web of approvals necessary to create new infrastructure carrying people from one highly regulated state to another to another to another, straight to the heart of the federal government itself.

Lawyers must be salivating like brunch patrons over plates of bacon.

Speaking of which: Get back in the pen, piggy, and await your fate.