There is a bomb in this column, and it will explode in five entries. Do not panic. I am confident I can figure out which wire to cut to defuse it. I’m no bomb expert. But I am armed with the greatest bomb defusal tool there is: the internet, the ultimate compendium of humanity’s vast array of knowledge. With only a few clicks we can learn all there is to know about the rise of cubism in the 1880 s or find out if the laws of physics would allow Godzilla to ice skate. The internet is the communal brain we all dump knowledge into. Someone on it had to have explained which wire to cut at some point.
You might be thinking, “Why don’t you only not finish the column, thereby ensuring that the bomb will never go off? ” Well, there’s a bunch of legitimate reasons for not doing that. Here’s a picture of reasons number 1 through infinity 😛 TAGEND Gotta pay the bills, and booby-trapped columns are a widely known occupational hazard of internet writing .
00: 05 …
No one can tell us which wire to cut. As one MetaFilter user put it, “Why disassemble it, when you can blow it up? ” Thanks for the help, asshole. I’m going to explode. I don’t need your sass. But, turns out, that’s the consensus everywhere I go — Wikipedia, Gizmodo, and directly from the mouth of a U.S. military bomb disposal expert right here on Cracked. Turns out bomb manufacturers aren’t basing their bomb designs on old Wile E. Coyote cartoons and my piss-poor understanding of the world. Cartoony bombs are the only bombs I figured I’d know how to disarm. The “TNT bundle attached to an alarm clock” type? Snip the blue wire. A “cannonball with a fuse” kind? Batman taught me that technique in the late ‘6 0s.
Real bombs are usually blown up with a shotgun( or shotgun-like devices) attached to a robot. That’s more than only a truly good notion for a cop prove. It’s a real thing.
I don’t have a shotgun, and there’s no way I could walk into a store and only buy a sho- OH MY GOD. I can order a shotgun online. I can have a 12 gauge mailed to me. This is too easy. I shouldn’t be allowed to drunkenly impulse buy a shotgun in my underwear at 3 a.m.
Don’t forget the gift-wrap alternative at checkout !
Shame Amazon doesn’t sell shotguns. They’d be my one-stop-shop for replenishing my monthly stock of Mossbergs and fuckable severed heads.
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Even crazier than that: There are 20 states where an 8-year-old can legally purchase and possess a shotgun. This bomb doesn’t seem so bad anymore. There are children in Kool-Aid-stained Minecraft shirts threatening girls who don’t like them with menacing shotguns selfies, or whatever shenanigans kids are up to these days. No sir. I’ll take my chances with this here old bomb.
Now, there’s no time to dwell on the past, or on America’s questionable firearm statutes. I need a solution, because explosion sounds like it hurts.
00: 04 …
But would it? I guess it depends on the kind of bomb. Having all my extremities rent away in an instant seems less painful than being burned to demise. Oh, appear — here’s a blog post by a forensic pathologist wherein he breaks down the ways a person can be hurt by an detonation. This line is particularly relevant 😛 TAGEND If he is quite near the explosion, he can be blown to pieces .
Slow down, doc! Your fancy medical lingo is twisting my brain into knots! You textbook talk is sailing over my head the style my feet would if this bomb were to go off. I need something more tangible than that to appease my fears.
Here you go: In 2011, a photojournalist named Giles Duley was on patrol with a U.S. Army unit when he stepped on a landmine and …
There was no noise , no ache. Just deafening silence .
Oh, that isn’t so ba-
My left hand had flopped over my face. So when I looked up, it was through a hand rent to shreds. The small white bones were completely exposed and all the flesh on one side of my arm was missing. Like something from a horror movie, it was smoldering. I couldn’t feel my legs, so I tried to sit up. My feet were no longer there. A nearby tree was covered in bits of my flesh .
HOLY SHIT. So “its what” fear is, huh? It’s icky and dreadful. I got so used to suppressing my emotions to project an image of “confident adult male” that I forgot what it means to genuinely fear. This is going super well right now, guys. It’s around here that I’d usually retreat to play video games for six hours until reality and responsibility melt away. But I can’t do that now. So I’m just going to swallow my emotions and soldier on. Yeah, all these pent-up emotions will explode the working day. But it’s better than explosion today.
Healthy living .
Let’s get back on track and try to find a way to defuse this bomb.
00: 03 …
Like I told, I don’t have a shotgun. But I do have a Nerf gun. Four of them. Seven. I have 12 Nerf guns, all right? Yeah, I’m 30, so what? I get laid in spite of them. Now, here’s a cool thing: Nerf guns can be modded to shoot more powerfully than the Nerf lords intended, with no technological know-how required.
Nerf guns have air restrictors that limit the air pressure pushing the dart out of the barrel so little kids don’t develop a savour for demise before they’re old enough to wield it responsibly when they get their learners permit. Loosen some screws, take out the restrictor, and voila — a Nerf death machine. If I can mod one of my 22 Nerf guns, maybe I can use it to safely explosion the bomb? But I’d still need a machine to do it remotely.
Back in 2011, a supervillain in developing rigged six shotguns in the woods of Georgia to be fired remotely via webcam. He said it was to kill feral swine, which is what he calls females over 105 pounds.
You can’t see this big, obtrusive, automated kill rig, because the handguns are camouflaged .
The murder rig was never fired and was still in its developmental stage when it was discovered by a human who that day learned it was possible to soil himself while running backward at Lamborghini speed. If I can stimulate something similar with some string, twist ties, and three hockey sticks taped together to form a petroleum tripod — items I am figuratively and literally naked without — I won’t be explosion today.
I’ve got my work cut out for me, and I’m running out of entries. This had better work.