Yesterday's transit meltdown at Grand Central was caused by "human error," the MTA reported, after someone at Metro-North decided evening rush hour would be a good time to disconnect half the power supply to the railway's main control computers, for maintenance. A loose wire then disabled the other half.
Click to viewDigg users should be glad merger talks with Google have cooled, writes Slate's Farhad Manjoo. Had Digg fallen into Marissa Mayer's frosting-laced clutches, the site would have probably become another startup lost in what Manjoo calls "the Google Black Hole." It happened to FeedBurner this week. And the RSS ad network, was just the latest, following Jaiku, JotSpot, Dodgeball, GrandCentral, and Measure Map. Their tales of doom in the Googleplex, below.
A strange sight at Grand Central. A couple of hundred people, indistinguishable from the 500,000 commuters who pass through the midtown station each day, suddenly freeze. They were part of an improv group which has put on this public event before, but never in such a theatrical space. A cop was asked what was going on: "I have no idea! That is the craziest shit I've ever seen in my life, and I'm a cop!" (Click play to start the clip.)
From the mailbag: "Guy outside of Grand Central selling 'I survived the steam blast' t-shirts for $15 bucks, standing in front of a piece of posterboard that says 'Were you scared? I was.'"
According to the Sun, Grand Central has been hit with a crippling tragedy. A mouse or rat has passed away, but its last moments were not private. Instead, the rodent died within or around the interior walls of the station's main information booth — that is, right smack in the middle of everything, where it has since peacefully rested, every day decomposing like a little flower. And though the smell of the rotting rodent corpse is concentrated right behind the booth, the odor is bad enough to warrant an emergency-services style search for the carcass.
In an incredibly demeaning stunt of promotional stupidity, Bank of America has installed a 20-foot wide, 7-foot tall sofa in Grand Central, which will contain "loose change." You know what's coming next: Those pitiful folks in attendance will then have an opportunity to go digging for change in the giant couch. The change can be turned in for MetroCards and gift certificates — but, if you're actually going to go couch diving in public, with your face in the cushions and your ass in the air, you really don't deserve to eat or use public transportation. In fact, we're going to have to ask you to get some freaking pride or leave Manhattan altogether.