Machon Shlomo was

you wake up to a roommate who won't talk to you as i did (a British snob from Cambridge who as a second year guy should have been some kind of mentor), then go to schacharis where you walk into a bare-walled bookless apartment room that faces a cemetery where you enter from the front with everyone staring at you to an assigned seat with unfriendly snobbish guys sitting on either side of you (they were taught to be that way as the whole school was built not merely on elitism but on the notion that it was the only place on earth with the truth) and go through 50 minutes of boredom conducted in a foreign language that they don't teach you even as they pressure you to "pray" in that language. You try to recite a liturgy about which you have learned nothing, a liturgy that appears to be about a deity about which you have learned nothing other than he is uptight and hates everyone and is going to punish you. And since there is no library you can't read about it. And since you are located in a construction site, you can't go to any other teachers to learn about it. And since no guest speakers are allowed in the building you haven't even been introduced to the possibility of meaningful ideas about the subject. All the while, the dean, a gruff ny businessman, stares at you from the front of the room. 

Then comes class in gemara an ancient book which is a series of cryptic notes written in a dead language about which they don't teach you. The gemara is intellectually like a plate of spaghetti, wandering all over, contradicting itself, using odd logical tricks that you have never seen before but the main focus of the class isn't even on figuring out this puzzle called the gemara but on commentators who make abstract observations about it, always arguing with each other. the atmosphere is competitive and you feel like you are drinking from a firehose. you just cannot keep up which in that competitive atmosphere is mortifying. the brain goes into shock as you spend nearly your entire day and night on this.

then comes mincha which is like schararis only mercifully it's shorter. then comes lunch where the rabbis who are supposed to be mentors but are told not to talk to you eat at their own table while the son in law of the school head, a 32 year old baal teshuvah six years out of a christian college holds court over them

then comes the son in law's chumash class which is an hour and a half of him reading the text in his lame accent where he can't pronounce the non-english sounds like a ches. the experience is terror because the chumash is terrifying and unwholesome with its rape, murder, kidnapping, betrayal, visits to prostitutes, slavery, genocide, and tossing goats off of mountains, and the young son in law making it even more scary with his snobbery, elitism, putdowns, boasting, table pounding, and regular threats of how we are all going to 'roast and toast.' and this constant feeling that we aren't as a gifted as he is and could never be on his level. the reason he reads the entire text is because ms is supposed to be dedicated to the text unlike the horrible other bt schools but you never see text other than the chumash and even that you can't read because they don't teach you hebrew. imagine a program that is supposed be about a text in a foreign language but that language isn't taught.

that's machon shlomo. you aren't allowed to date, or lead davening, or ask questions or learn about the halacha that you are supposed to be keeping. if you don't like any of this, that reflects only your failure to demonstrate true commitment. there's something wrong with you. you are arrogant, you are wild. you need to be broken.