Stop what you’re doing. Pay attention. Someone is assembling all the odds and ends in their house, basement, garage, shed, and storage locker, and making it all bump in to each other in interesting ways.
You can’t not watch a Rube Goldberg machine. It’s the law. Well, it’s a rule. Well, more of a guideline, really. Anyway, it’s fun to watch.
[Thanks to regular reader and contributor H.J. Briscoe for sending that one along]
If You Ever Need a 12-Foot-Long, 500-Pound Chef’s Knife, Rob Higgs Is Your Man
OK, you have to admit, that’s pretty cool. If Sir Isaac Newton was an organ grinder, this would be the machine he cranked. It’s interesting to watch, and it makes a jolly little noise as it works. It’s plain neato.
So I’m watching this Rube Goldberg contraption. It’s the shizzle. It rifles through Newton’s wastebasket, looking for new Laws of Motion after the first three aren’t enough to get the job done. It uses hydraulics, and electromotive force, and combustion, and every darn thing they can lay their hands on in the modern snouthouse. If it’s available at the mall, it’s integrated into the action. The hammer blow to turn on the power strip and start the fan is inspired.
Then, after 6 full minutes of glorious time wasting, you introduce some sort of porcine progeny, a water balloon, and what sounds to my ear like an off-camera F-bomb, followed by a mumbled punchline that spoils the joke.