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Discovery Channel destroys an M-3...


B3Nut

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You don't have cable though you find the time to watch half-witted clips. Interesting. :)

No guitarists were harmed during the making of this message.

 

In general, harmonic complexity is inversely proportional to the ratio between chording and non-chording instruments.

 

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Pretty funny what passes for science and discovery these days. I knew something was funky with the Discovery Channel when they had that show with the guys building choppers and throwing wrenches at each other. Marginally entertaining, but not exactly "discovery".
--wmp
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Who didn't like to blow things up as a kid? :laugh:

 

It's a right of passage. No. It's a requirement.

 

I am certain that many of us here, today, on this forum are lucky to have made it through childhood retaining all our fingers and toes.

 

In my neighborhood we had all sorts of firecrackers - M-80's, Cherry Bombs, Roman Candles and such.

 

...I could tell you stories. :snax:

 

BTW, HAPPY FRIDAY!

 

:thu:

 

Is There Gas in the Car? :cool:

 

 

"Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent." - Victor Hugo
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Who didn't like to blow things up as a kid? :laugh:

 

I still enjoy blowing things up. But I don't call it science or discovery.

 

I feel bad for kids these days. You can't build or detonate a respectable bomb these days without folks taking a hissy fit about it. Kids get sent to Gitmo if they play with Mentos and Pepsi in the wrong place.

--wmp
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The plot behind this particular show is an engineering challenge. A particularly florid means of destruction is devised for some object and then the challengers have to design a device or system to keep it from happening. I was actually rooting for the guys to keep the Les Paul guitar safe from the rain of thermite it was exposed to (they did it by the way).
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It's sad that both the Discovery Channel and History have jumped the shark VH1 style with nightly doses of BS programming. (For the most part). It works out great because I don't have time to watch tv right now anyway. There are still documentaries- but these are few and far between compared to a few years ago.
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Sven: I think the answer is fairly clear. He's definitely that juve-..../stu-....

 

And, IT-GIT: I'm with ya. When I was about 12, my friends and I used to go down to the creek near my house and have battles shooting roman candles at each other across the water. I also consider myself lucky to this day that I didn't burn down my parents house all those times I created a "flame-thrower" in our garage by taking a match to an aerosol can. Quite the buffoon I was! But then again, to your point, wasn't everybody?

 

Noah

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And, IT-GIT: I'm with ya. When I was about 12, my friends and I used to go down to the creek near my house and have battles shooting roman candles at each other across the water. I also consider myself lucky to this day that I didn't burn down my parents house all those times I created a "flame-thrower" in our garage by taking a match to an aerosol can. Quite the buffoon I was! But then again, to your point, wasn't everybody?

 

Noah

 

Good one Noah. :thu: That was the time when hairspray came in aerosol cans and we were writing the book on Having Fun With Matches. :laugh: There's a chapter there that has something to do with Boy Scouts (Troop 7) + hamburgers & baked beans + sleeping outside under the stars... I'm sure you get the picture.

 

Now I don't know how many here had GI Joe...

 

http://www.islandoflosttoys.com/images/toys/gi_joe_1964-2.jpg

 

My friend David had them. His sister Ellen had Barbies. South Carolina sells fireworks (NC doesn't. They're illegal here). Funny how a few just happened to land in the wrong hands - ours.

 

Of course, Barbie was the first to go. The way David saw it, Barbie had to die and it didn't take long for him to convince Joe of this.

 

http://www.pyroguide.com/images/thumb/6/6d/M80.jpg/120px-M80.jpg

 

I didn't know what kind of damage a M-80 could do when affixed to her head, lit, and thrown through the air into a stagnant pond near the Tar River... But she drowned. I guess it didn't matter, she didn't know - her head was on one side of the pond and the rest of Barbie was on the other. When Ellen discovered this she confronted David. Of course, David blamed it on Joe. But it was OK - Ellen had a bunch of 'em. She never missed that one. Joe, on the other hand, secretly mourned for days.

 

Then we played Vomit the Fish. David's neighbor had a beautiful water statue in her front yard - it was some naked little imp/boy holding a fish. We thought it was cool to put pine cones and objects - anything we could find - on the fish's mouth and quickly crank the water faucet to see how high the fish would 'vomit' the object into the air. Well, it didn't take us long to figure out that this was A LOT MORE FUN with a M-80 in the fish's mouth instead of a pine cone. The trick was finding someone who was stup... er, BRAVE enough to place the M-80 on the fish's mouth and light it. Of course, David was always the one with his hand on the faucet so somebody else had to do the loading. We elected Gibson. Don't ask why - that's another story altogether.

 

The timing had to be exactly right to place the M-80, light it, get out of the way, and twist the faucet so it shot into the air and exploded. David was a drummer. (Doesn't that explain it all?) Unfortunately he later got his left pinky finger blown off in an accident with a Pepsi bottle. Or maybe it was two fingers. They weren't blown all the way off, just to the first or second knuckle... I forget.

 

Yeah. :snax:

 

Someone thought it was a good idea to see what a "Lady Finger" (a small firecracker) would do if lit and dropped into a Pepsi bottle.

 

http://www.fireworkinfo.com/images/firecracker_ladyfinger.jpg

 

(David's dad ran the local Pepsi bottling company in my town - the same town that had the factory that built the infamous RMI Electra-Piano BTW, :) and there were plenty of empty Pepsi and Mountain Dew bottles to be found strewn all over the neighborhood.) The problem came about when David either got his timing wrong with the lighting and the getting out of the way part. Or, and I can't remember which, the Lady Finger didn't explode so David went over to the Pepsi bottle and blew on it. Now I don't see how that would have blown off his finger, but if you meet him today, you'll see that a few of his digits are missing... or somewhat missing. Needless to say, he's mighty proud of them though. I don't know why. And when you meet him, that's the first thing he'll show you... and then he'll start to brag about it. :rolleyes:

 

edit: David didn't blow his digits off with a LadyFinger. No. He just cut his leg real bad from that. I mumember now. It was bleeding like a mutha. David never passed out or anything though. Joe was so proud. :/

 

I'm not making this stuff up. I swear.

 

But, of course, that was over forty years ago and I may be getting my facts mixed... Because it could have been the time that he was shooting skeet with his older brother, Tommy. Something happened with the shotgun and how, since it breaks in the middle, wasn't closed completely. He shot it at one of those clay pigeons and it backfired or something... and that's how he lost his fingers. Come to think of it, Tommy enjoyed recycling empty shotgun shells. He had the little machine and gunpowder in his basement... Perhaps he used a little too much gunpowder in that one, I dunno.

 

There's other stuff that happened, like the time Tommy wrapped his sportscar around a tree, but I'll stop for a while - since that didn't have anything to do with the Discovery Channel and an M-3.

 

Besides... I need a Pepsi.

 

 

:)

 

 

"Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent." - Victor Hugo
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Pretty funny what passes for science and discovery these days. I knew something was funky with the Discovery Channel when they had that show with the guys building choppers and throwing wrenches at each other. Marginally entertaining, but not exactly "discovery".

 

... and what passes for arts & entertainment on A&E, and any programming on "TLC-The Learning Channel"

 

Dawg the Bounty Hunter? Destroyed In Seconds?

 

 

 

____________________________________
Rod

victoria bc

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Having fun with Matches chapter 2:

 

Eastern North Carolina in the 1950's - my cousin's father had just gotten a BRAND NEW light blue 57 Chev BelAir hardtop a couple of weeks earlier, less than 1000 miles on it.

So my cousin borrowed it one evening and we rode around town tossing LadyFingers in to the newspaper boxes. Unfortunately, someone dropped a match in the back seat, and it caught the fuse of a string with about 80 LadyFingers still on it.

 

Years later they were still finding little bits of burnt paper under the back seat.

 

All five of us wound up grounded for a few weeks after that one. Don't remember anyone losing fingers though.

 

M-80's and Cherry Bombs - always good for an argument, almost as good as Chevy vs. Ford - which one was most powerful. Lots of improvised ways to test the theories.

 

When I was about 7 or 8, my grandpa caught me in the shed behind the house having fun with matches, soda bottles, and kerosene. Hey, it looked to me like the oil lamps that we used for light in hurricanes - guess it was good that I didn't throw one against something.

 

No wonder my granddaughter is always moaning about "nothing to do." I mean, back in those days, students during deer season at the high school would drive the family truck with the 30-06 in the rack and plenty of shells - nobody thought anything of it. Even in grade school, we sometimes carried our Daisy air rifles to school, and one or two of the teachers would even set up a target and the class could see who could shoot the best.

 

Political correctness - BAH, Humbug!

(Approaching 60 years of being on THE list)

 

 

Howard Grand|Hamm SK1-73|Kurz PC2|PC2X|PC3|PC3X|PC361; QSC K10's

HP DAW|Epi Les Paul & LP 5-str bass|iPad mini2

"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen."

Jim

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When I was about 12, I remember watching as friend#1 held a wristrocket (powerful slingshot) in stretched position with an unlit M-80 in it (yes, an M-80), then friend#1 instructed friend#2 to light the M-80, then friend#1 watched the M-80 fuse (inches from his face) burn part way down before he released the wristrocket. He did this because he wanted the M-80 to explode high up in the air.

 

He was successful and no one got hurt, but I remember thinking he was nuts. As a kid I played with some of the same dangerous stuff others have mentioned here, including cutting the tops off of magic markers, filling them the contents poured out from dozens of firecrackers, and then superglueing the magic marker cap in place. But when I was messing with something like a M-80, those were always put down somewhere before lighting them, and then I would back off right away.

 

 

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oh boy. big fun.

 

My best friend David was a firebug. Of course, everything was all his fault. That's my line and I'm sticking to it.

 

We quickly advanced from the aerosol-can-flame-thrower to fun with gasoline. A simple one I liked was to take a coat hanger, unbent, and stick a crinkled up ball of tinfoil on one end. Dip it in the gas, light, and toss in the air. It made this real cool sound as it went up and then came back down. Unfortunately, it came back down in the maple tree. The maple tree started to burn. We ran for the back yard garden hose -- but oops, we'd recently had a water fight in the front yard. Race full steam to the front yard, quickly unscrew the hose, run to the back ...

 

... thank goodness, that one put itself out somehow. Couldn't find the hanger, either. No doubt my mom did, years and years later, and wondered why the heck there was an unbent, scorched, rusted coathanger in the back yard under the maple tree.

 

Then, I had this little rocket launcher toy. It had a rubber bulb you'd step on, attached to a flexible tube, and you'd insert the "rocket" in the tube, stomp, and whee. OK, that was fun about 5 times. David's turn, and he pulls out ... you guessed it, the gas can. In goes the gas. He ties a string of burning rag to the end. Stomp -- WHOOSH! Good thing I'd stepped back. Way more fun than the plastic rockets.

 

The thing is, I was wondering what would happen next, when he lifted his foot off the rubber ball stompy thing. I confess I was darn worried about that. Turns out -- nothing. Stomp again, WHOOSH! So, I relaxed.

 

However, David turns around, and his 4-yr-old brother thinks big bro has a nifty idea, and has lit the spout to the 1-gallon gas can. (We always kept our incendiary activities well away from the gas -- usually keeping it behind a closed door.)

 

Another anticlimax, fortunately. David coolly slides his palm across the spout, putting out the flame. I think we're alive and unscarred today because the gas can was full.

 

M-80's in the sewer make a real cool sound, a kinda musical "thungggg". One time he put one in one of those square gray metal toy safes with the red knob -- remember those? One face shot into the next yard. The top, bottom, and two sides were one band of metal, and got blown into a perfect circle. We couldn't find the other face. Years later I was walking up as his mother was directing some guys taking out some old bushes, and laughed as they pulled out this old gray square bit of metal.

 

We made homemade rockets, too, stuffing colored sparklers into a coat hanger tube (one sticking down further to act as fuse) and gluing fins onto the tube. Way cool, and colorful too. No close calls with that one.

 

Even more fun, model rocket engines! Why bother with the rockets, when it's the ENGINES that are the fun part? Once again, against my better judgement, David lights an engine with nothing on it but a straw to guide it during liftoff.

 

My suggestion: do not try this at home.

 

The thing leaps into the air about 15 feet and then spins madly in place for a half second (which seemed like forever at the time) and then shoots horizontally another 30 feet and spins again. After that, it goes completely wild.

 

It's a miracle it didn't hit anything.

 

Did I mention that David was a very lucky guy? Well, he was also the smart one between us. I could read and do math, but he could build things and make them work. Today, if you need a kidney flown from another hospital, it'll arrive in something that looks kinda like an igloo cooler, which has a complete life support system in it. That's his baby. I'm glad he got over the fire thing, with all his fingers and parts intact. Not to mention mine too.

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Wow.

 

Jeff, I wonder how we ever made it through puberty.

 

Lucky us, huh?

 

Yeah...

 

That's why I always go to other people's funerals.

 

I figure that one day they'll return the favor.

 

:cool:

 

"Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent." - Victor Hugo
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Actually, I think it wasn't David who fired that rocket engine. After all, he had sense enough to know what the fins did. I bet that was Kurt. Kurt didn't have a lick of any kind of sense.

 

Kurt was the one who used to go jumping trains with my little brother. They'd jump from car to car, too. Only, Kurt never realized that they always did that running toward the rear. One time Scott and his friend watch dumbstruck as Kurt races *forward* and leaps to the next car.

 

Almost.

 

They watch as Kurt disappears between the cars.

 

They're at the back of the car, and look down at the tracks hoping not to see Kurt parts on the tracks as the train races by.

 

No Kurt parts.

 

They run forward to find Kurt hanging upside down; his foot had somehow got caught in something on his way down. His head was a few feet above the tracks.

 

Kurt was a lucky guy too.

 

I wouldn't believe this story if anyone other than someone I know as well as my brother had told it. I can't figure out how Kurt's foot would have gotten caught like that. But past the age of about 12, he never lied to me, not even to tell a story.

 

OK, let's go blow something up. Not a Hammond, though. Glad that was an M and not a B!

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