Easiest? No, in some cases it even seems to go for the more exotic over easiest. The point, thematically, is that it is inevitably destructive: Point and pull the trigger, and it will destroy.
It’s from a very weird sci-fi novel, where the thematic point is that both the weapon and the individual who wields it are intrinsically destructive.
There actually exists a study done in Japan, combining both a survey of crematoriums and experimental tests using a crematory retort and sample medical device batteries.
The results found that the device explosions were audible, but did not damage the experimental crematorium. In the survey, however, 92% (in 2012) and 51% (in 2013) of questioned crematoriums reported “damage” from medical device batteries. The cause for this discrepancy is unclear; it’s possible those answering the questionnaire considered scorching, scratches, or metal residue to be “damage”, while the test only looked for “structural damage”.
30 phone batteries is a lot more than 8 medical batteries, but it’s still not a whole lot. Compared to, say, powerbank or scooter batteries, which can go up rather more spectacularly, the effects are more limited.
tl;dr - it’d probably be noisy and some refractory bricks might need replacing, but it probably wouldn’t blow up the retort.
A Lazy Gun:
A Lazy Gun is roughly half a metre long, 30 cm wide and 20 cm tall. On the front are two short cylinders that end in black lenses. A sight extends from the main body, as do two hand grips. A metallic strap allows the Lazy Gun to be fired from the waist. On one hand grip is a zoom control and on the other grip is a trigger mechanism. The Lazy gun is massy but light, and weighs three times as much when turned upside down. The Lazy Gun is the only weapon known to display a sense of humour.
To fire the Lazy Gun, it is pointed at the target, zoomed in, and then the trigger is pulled. What happens next is unpredictable. When fired at humans, many different things may occur. An anchor may appear above the person, giant electrodes may appear on either side of the target and electrocute them or an animal may tear their throat out. Larger targets such as tanks or ships may suffer tidal waves, implosion, explosion, sudden lava flows or just disappear. When fired at cities and other such targets, thermonuclear explosions are the norm, although in one instance a comet crashed into the city.
It is. People have pointed out that if you don’t have the precognition and super-reflexes of a Jedi, a sword with a massless blade is actually really easy to hurt yourself with.
Really, a lot of the prequel hate comes from them taking such a huge step down from the OT. In 1999, The Phantom Menace was the first major Star Wars film in 16 years; it wasn’t just a cool new thing, it was a cultural event. People expected great things.
Obviously it failed at that. Not once, but twice. Revenge of the Sith barely even got a chance.
And so the backlash was brutal. While the critique wasn’t unfair in its points, it also came from a perspective of starkly emotional disappointment. People say the prequels are looked at more fondly now due to ‘nostalgia’, but mostly I think it’s that the emotional pain has faded and we can analyze them more objectively as flawed, but ultimately solid films rather than ‘disasters’.
It may be that one day the sequels will be more coldly studied as well, with more focus placed on the issues produced by cycling directorship and management pressures… but I also think even a coldly analytical appraisal of them will still come up as “hollow and emotionless”.
Mostly that I like the civilized world.
Like don’t get me wrong: Nature hikes? Camping? All great. National parks are a treasure. But I will freely admit I rather enjoy little comforts of modernity like “clean water just comes out of the tap when I turn it on”, “fresh food is a 15-minute walk to the grocery store away”, and “the spinny machine makes my clothes clean while I do other stuff.”
“Everyone is trying to use a Magnifying Glass to do everything from change flathead screws to preparing food, from levering open crates to surgical incisions.”
In other words: The base algorithms and techniques are very interesting and have valid applications in a narrow range of fields, being useful for pattern recognition, generation, and analysis.
The problem is everything else. Everyone is trying to use that one tool for things it is neither effective nor practical nor appropriate to use it on, and then being shocked when this has widespread negative outcomes for both themselves and everyone around them. Separately but parallel, the drive to find useful applications of it (in areas where there aren’t) is causing companies and individuals to engage in grossly unethical behavior.
Even in the fields where it is most useful, you have to be cautious about not treating it as a “truth machine”. A speaker I heard put it simply: “AI cheats.” It will latch on to the most prominent patterns, not necessarily the ones you want it to analyze.
That Lemmy, as a network, should be highly exclusive and free of ‘normies’. I can understand someone wanting their own instance to be highly insular and controlled, but if the point of Lemmy is to build a web of community-driven sites which will pull people away from the corporatocratic current iteration, we can’t do that if we’re making people feel unwelcome if they don’t conform to our own little narrow wedge of views.
There are definitely some absolutely wild political takes on Lemmy, even outside of .ml, which leave me feeling some people are completely off their rockers.