I have this posted at my office at work. Major props to anyone who understands the paradox without me having to explain it to them. Sadly, there are only one or two who get it.
The Mongolian Emperor Temur Oljeytu Khan (1294-1307) had this protective helmet created for his son Chanu, who had a tendency to walk into walls and chew on his father's best horsebow. Chanu was set to inherit power from his father, but his place in the rigid Mongol hierarchy was taken by his younger brother Qayshan, who purchased it from Chanu for two oddly-shaped rocks and a kite.
"They said our love will never last", said Skippy. "A flying squirrel can never love a woman, especially not an Olympic skier. We proved them wrong. Someday, my son, you will find your true purpose in life. Someday."
In the fairy tale of Rapunzel, there is no mention of Rapunzel's couple-of-sandwiches-short-of-a-picnic lover who tried to pull her DOWN from the tower with this spaghetti-fork-like invention. After much screaming, the original legend says that she dumped a chamberpot out the window to get the idiot to let up.
This device is Alexander C. O'Reilly's Ye Olden Fraternity Keg Starter. One of several competing brewers in New Haven, Conn., O'Reilly gave these out to his frequent customers to aid in partaking of his fine quality ales and porters. No fraternity at Yale was without one of these from 1790 up until 1820, when an angry mob of teetotalers ran O'Reilly out of town.
A burly fraternity brother (or anyone who was capable of standing) could swing the single spike to puncture a hole in a wooden keg of beer and insert a tap. The genius of O'Reilly's Keg Starter was that in case of particularly rowdy, raucous parties, someone could swing the four-prong end to create four taps at once. This advantage ensured O'Reilly's brewery would remain the party supplier of choice at Yale University.
The O'Reilly Keg Starter was called "The Mallet of Bacchus" by Yale alumni Eli Whitney, who once said "By God, there is no better way to get wrecked like a Tory than O'Reilly's Heavenly Hammer. I once drank Benjamin Franklin under the table in 1786! Yeeeeeeehaw!". Thomas Jefferson observed "We had four kegs of ale and two of a fine stout going at once after signing the Declaration of Independence, all thanks to you, Alexander C. O'Reilly and your marvelous invention! Godspeed to you and your fine brews!"
Legend has it that William F. Buckley used a O'Reilly Keg Starter to dig up Mr. O'Reilly's skull in a midnight raid for the Skull and Bones Society in 1943. The skull is rumored to hold an honored place in the secret society's headquarters, where it is allegedly used in initiations where the aspiring Future Bonesman chugs beer from it. Very few O'Reilly's Keg Starters reach the antique market, as they are snapped up by Yale alumni whenever possible, fetching prices of up to $20,000 at auction.
This is a 1944 U.S. Navy Ratatosk Encryption Device, which used trained squirrels to transmit secure, unbreakable radio messages during World War II. The device was used for a few months on Navy battleships, but were phased out when other, more effective coding techniques became available.
The United States' war effort in the Pacific required secure radio communications, but complex electromechanical devices like the German Enigma cipher machine did not fare well in the humid tropics and the oceanic salt air. Other methods of sending secure battle plans were needed.
Enter the famous behaviorist B. F. Skinner. After the collapse of the Guided Pigeon Bomb project, Skinner believed that he had more to offer the war effort. He trained several dozen American Gray Squirrels to recognize letters and numbers and to translate them into sounds only understandable by other squirrels. The transmitter squirrel would read a series of letters and transmit a series of squeaks and squeals into the microphone on top the squirrel cage, which would be transmitted over radio. The receiver squirrel would hear the squirrel 'language' and tap out the Morse code plaintext to a waiting radio operator, or, in later versions, on a large typewriter-like board that would record the message on paper.
In all, 76 squirrels were trained and proficient in cryptography and radio operation. They were inducted into the U.S. Navy, given the titular rank of Ensign or Lieutenent J.G., and were dispatched to the Pacific Theater. Contrary to some popular accounts, they were never issued tiny Navy uniforms. They initially saw service on battleships and aircraft carriers.
Unfortunately, the Navy didn't forsee some frailities inherent in squirrels at war. Soon after they started service, the Navy discovered that squirrels became incredibly seasick and were often unable to function. Several squirrels were lost to fights with ship rats. Questions were raised about the loyalty of the Gray Squirrels to the United States when a handful were discovered to have friends and associates among the mistrusted Eurasian Red Squirrel community, though investigations never proved any of the accusations. Eventually the project was abandoned when it was discovered that Navajo Code Talkers were much more hardy and easier to use.
Most historians forget the brave sacrifice and service of the U.S. Navy Secret Squirrel Squad. No squirrels have received any honorary medals or citations for bravery. They have been forgotten by most, although not all. To this day, a small group of zoologists and PETA activists have unsuccessly lobbied for full veterans' benefits to the surviving family of these loyal and interpid servicecreatures along with full burial rights in Arlington National Cemetery. Until the day when the U.S. Government recognizes their selfless devotion to their country, though, the brave squirrels will be mostly forgotten.
It's a Lego mill. In the earliest days of the Lego company, all Lego pieces were crafted by hand using these devices. You would insert a stick of Lego material, usually Bakelite in the early days of Legos, into one side, turn the crank, and it would cut out the posts on one half. Flip it over and run it through the other side, trim to size, and you would have a perfectly-formed Lego.
This is the gripper claw from a 1950s Soviet claw prize machine, called "?????????? ???????? ??????????? ?????? ??? ????? ??????", or "Secure the Fuzzy Stuffed Cow for the Glory of the Motherland!" Like most Western prize machines, the prize compartment contained stuffed animals. However, a lucky ??????? or ??????? could drop a few rubles in this machine and hopefully win ration coupons good for bags of turnips or beets, small bottles of vodka, books of tractor production figures, or even an official Red Army surplus bayonet!
This is the Bris-o-matic, one of several manipulator arm attachments of the RoboRabbi. It never hit mass production, mostly due to a tendency to sputter and shake at, umm, inopportune moments.
This is the only existing remnant of Edgar C. Rinklebottom's experimental steam-powered jet ski. This aft section is the paddle wheel and part of the steam powertrain. The craft, designed by Mr. Rinklebottom over a bar bet with Robert Fulton, was designed over three months in 1810 to propel one person on a heavily modified sleigh across the Hudson River. The paddle wheel seen here was all that remained after an accident that resulted in the death of Mr. Rinklebottom, two bystanders waiting on a dock, and a small family of ducks.
Legend has it that there was a riverboat race that day with Fulton, and Mr. Rinklebottom's boiler exploded while he was revving the steam engine at the starting line. In actuality, the mishap occurred because, while Edgar invested several thousand dollars developing the engine, he did not invest in "that newfangled piece of tin-scrap that Fulton chap tried to sell me as a safety valve."
Please note the wooden slats on the bottom right of the assembly. These slats were designed make a clatter of noise while the steam-paddleboat-sled was roaring along, similar to baseball cards in bicycle spokes. Claims that he also created an early prototype of the "Woo-woo whistle tip" muffler are unfounded, however.
It's a trade stimulator. I'm betting that there's a coin slot that would spin the wheel, or else an operator would spin it if you give them your money. One would get a number of cigars based on what number the wheel stopped on. A nickel could win you one 'nickel' cigar (probably worth 3 cents), or you could win two or three, more than your money's worth. This one's probably from the 1890s or very early 1900's.
They were used in places where gambling wasn't legal. These games would offer an opportunity to win prizes instead of (or in addition to) money. Sometimes the prizes would be exchangable for cash, like 'Free replays' on pinball machines in the 60's that could be traded for money with an operator. Other times there would be a product like a gumball vended, so the operator could claim it as an honest vending machine. Inside, the gumball was hollowed out with a little slip of paper. You would compare the number on the paper with a chart, if it matched a certain number you'd win a prize.
How long will it be before every yahoo that openly carries a firearm decides that they're a self-appointed sheriff's deputy, especially now that Florida and other states have a 'Fire away if you feel threatened' law?
Handguns are for one purpose only: to put big, sloppy holes in things that cause tremendous damage and death. They're weapons that have no constructive purpose, unless you consider flat-out intimidation to be constructive. Maybe they'll stop a crime, or maybe they'll escalate a situation where no harm was planned into a bloodbath by their advertised presence. Handguns aren't even efficient for hunting. They're for killing people, plain and simple.
Intimidation isn't a way to breed trust and community, it's a way to remind people that the only reason they'll respect your authority is because you have a .357, and why the hell would you carry one in the open unless you're ready to use it and want to make damn sure that everyone else knows it? Can you be really sure that a stranger is trustworthy enough to use an open-carry handgun in the direst of circumstances, or are they just itching to use it under any quasi-legal excuse of 'self-defense'?
It makes us commie Un-American hippies who don't trust guns very nervous to know that someone's so obsessed with tools of death that they wear them with pride, even bragging about their personal arsenal. I question why anyone who doesn't work in a dangerous profession would carry a gun in public.
Cthulhu as a Teenager, 3XL
Make mine Cthulhu as a Teenager, 3XL
I want the "Cthulhu as a Teenager" shirt, 3XL/
A burly fraternity brother (or anyone who was capable of standing) could swing the single spike to puncture a hole in a wooden keg of beer and insert a tap. The genius of O'Reilly's Keg Starter was that in case of particularly rowdy, raucous parties, someone could swing the four-prong end to create four taps at once. This advantage ensured O'Reilly's brewery would remain the party supplier of choice at Yale University.
The O'Reilly Keg Starter was called "The Mallet of Bacchus" by Yale alumni Eli Whitney, who once said "By God, there is no better way to get wrecked like a Tory than O'Reilly's Heavenly Hammer. I once drank Benjamin Franklin under the table in 1786! Yeeeeeeehaw!". Thomas Jefferson observed "We had four kegs of ale and two of a fine stout going at once after signing the Declaration of Independence, all thanks to you, Alexander C. O'Reilly and your marvelous invention! Godspeed to you and your fine brews!"
Legend has it that William F. Buckley used a O'Reilly Keg Starter to dig up Mr. O'Reilly's skull in a midnight raid for the Skull and Bones Society in 1943. The skull is rumored to hold an honored place in the secret society's headquarters, where it is allegedly used in initiations where the aspiring Future Bonesman chugs beer from it. Very few O'Reilly's Keg Starters reach the antique market, as they are snapped up by Yale alumni whenever possible, fetching prices of up to $20,000 at auction.
The United States' war effort in the Pacific required secure radio communications, but complex electromechanical devices like the German Enigma cipher machine did not fare well in the humid tropics and the oceanic salt air. Other methods of sending secure battle plans were needed.
Enter the famous behaviorist B. F. Skinner. After the collapse of the Guided Pigeon Bomb project, Skinner believed that he had more to offer the war effort. He trained several dozen American Gray Squirrels to recognize letters and numbers and to translate them into sounds only understandable by other squirrels. The transmitter squirrel would read a series of letters and transmit a series of squeaks and squeals into the microphone on top the squirrel cage, which would be transmitted over radio. The receiver squirrel would hear the squirrel 'language' and tap out the Morse code plaintext to a waiting radio operator, or, in later versions, on a large typewriter-like board that would record the message on paper.
In all, 76 squirrels were trained and proficient in cryptography and radio operation. They were inducted into the U.S. Navy, given the titular rank of Ensign or Lieutenent J.G., and were dispatched to the Pacific Theater. Contrary to some popular accounts, they were never issued tiny Navy uniforms. They initially saw service on battleships and aircraft carriers.
Unfortunately, the Navy didn't forsee some frailities inherent in squirrels at war. Soon after they started service, the Navy discovered that squirrels became incredibly seasick and were often unable to function. Several squirrels were lost to fights with ship rats. Questions were raised about the loyalty of the Gray Squirrels to the United States when a handful were discovered to have friends and associates among the mistrusted Eurasian Red Squirrel community, though investigations never proved any of the accusations. Eventually the project was abandoned when it was discovered that Navajo Code Talkers were much more hardy and easier to use.
Most historians forget the brave sacrifice and service of the U.S. Navy Secret Squirrel Squad. No squirrels have received any honorary medals or citations for bravery. They have been forgotten by most, although not all. To this day, a small group of zoologists and PETA activists have unsuccessly lobbied for full veterans' benefits to the surviving family of these loyal and interpid servicecreatures along with full burial rights in Arlington National Cemetery. Until the day when the U.S. Government recognizes their selfless devotion to their country, though, the brave squirrels will be mostly forgotten.
Legend has it that there was a riverboat race that day with Fulton, and Mr. Rinklebottom's boiler exploded while he was revving the steam engine at the starting line. In actuality, the mishap occurred because, while Edgar invested several thousand dollars developing the engine, he did not invest in "that newfangled piece of tin-scrap that Fulton chap tried to sell me as a safety valve."
Please note the wooden slats on the bottom right of the assembly. These slats were designed make a clatter of noise while the steam-paddleboat-sled was roaring along, similar to baseball cards in bicycle spokes. Claims that he also created an early prototype of the "Woo-woo whistle tip" muffler are unfounded, however.
They were used in places where gambling wasn't legal. These games would offer an opportunity to win prizes instead of (or in addition to) money. Sometimes the prizes would be exchangable for cash, like 'Free replays' on pinball machines in the 60's that could be traded for money with an operator. Other times there would be a product like a gumball vended, so the operator could claim it as an honest vending machine. Inside, the gumball was hollowed out with a little slip of paper. You would compare the number on the paper with a chart, if it matched a certain number you'd win a prize.
Handguns are for one purpose only: to put big, sloppy holes in things that cause tremendous damage and death. They're weapons that have no constructive purpose, unless you consider flat-out intimidation to be constructive. Maybe they'll stop a crime, or maybe they'll escalate a situation where no harm was planned into a bloodbath by their advertised presence. Handguns aren't even efficient for hunting. They're for killing people, plain and simple.
Intimidation isn't a way to breed trust and community, it's a way to remind people that the only reason they'll respect your authority is because you have a .357, and why the hell would you carry one in the open unless you're ready to use it and want to make damn sure that everyone else knows it? Can you be really sure that a stranger is trustworthy enough to use an open-carry handgun in the direst of circumstances, or are they just itching to use it under any quasi-legal excuse of 'self-defense'?
It makes us commie Un-American hippies who don't trust guns very nervous to know that someone's so obsessed with tools of death that they wear them with pride, even bragging about their personal arsenal. I question why anyone who doesn't work in a dangerous profession would carry a gun in public.