|Quoting tommy1808 (Reply 64):|
Quoting Mir (Reply 61):
Since when is a clock a suspicious device?
For people believing that every single muslim refugee is in fact an ISIS terrorist in disguise, everything in the hands of a Muslim is a suspicious device.
The Hollywood version of a bomb timer. I have learned a bit about real terrorist bombs from my former blasting instructor in the German civil defence (THW), where I got trained in civilian use of explosives (demolitions, quarrying etc.). He was often called by police as an explosives expert to assess terrorist bombs, and during class he would sometimes tell stories about them. Yes, I had a blasting and explosives licence, but it is long expired.
Real bombs look in no way like what Hollywood proclaims (though I would not want to go into details).
If I were a physics or engineering teacher, I would ask the student where he got hold of this super accurate cesium atomic clock. I have only seen them in books so far.
The question would be: What electrolyte did you use to make the two bottle batteries powering the clock?
When I was in highschool I used to hang out at the physics department of Freie Universität Berlin and earned myself a bit of pocket money by doing odd chores in one of the laboratories.
As the physics department was close to my school, I often cycled to school from home wearing coveralls and bags full of weird equipment, e.g. a high vacuum diffusion pump or Geiger counters (I had some radioactive minerals (Uranium and Thorium ores in my collection of rocks), because after school I was cycling straight to the university.
Fortunately we had somew science teachers, who were just equally weird, curious and funny, and especially the chemistry teachers loved explosions themselves.
I would also regularly carry a pocket knife (one of the Spanish clasp knives, which make the ratcheting sound when opened, it was a good carbon steel and I honed it as sharp as a razor).
But it was a different time as well:
Close to my school was a training area of the US Army Berlin Brigade, where they practised combat in urban area (basically a mock city district). The area was fenced in and strictly verboten, but some of my classmates climbed over the fence and collected leftover ammunition and pyrotechnics. One day a classmate came with a live practice grenade and showed off with it. It got confiscated by a teacher and left in the teacher's room on one of the desks.
One of the crazy chemistry teachers saw it after school, when the school yard was empty, and, having been a conscript in the Bundeswehr decades before, decided to dispose of it by arming it and throwing it out of the window. Unfortunately he forgot to hold down the lever, so it explosed just after it left his hand, causing a big bang and a vcloud of plaster dust. He stood there, counting his fingers (all still there), and an elderly spinster tyüpe English teacher, who was sitting at a desk, correcting assignments, went into a screaming fit. But this was in the early 1980s.
In university I almost got expelled once because I made gun cotton. During inorganic chemistry lab class I had a bunch of beakers sitting in a hot sand bath, slowly boiling for hours. I could not leave the lab while the heat was on for safety reasons, and was terribly bored. During lunch break I went to a pharmacy and bought some cotton wool, because I wanted to make a small series of samples, seeing which mix of concentrated sulfuric and nitric acid would give me the highest nitrated gun cotton (just small samples), while waiting for the liquid in the beakers to boil down.
The female assistant teacher came "What are you doing here Mr.....? Explosives! I'm going to call the professor in charge!". The professor came and told me that if I wanted to make experiments like this, I should do it in his personal lab, not in the student's one. I think that, as a student he had done similar things.
And my father told me a few stories from his time as a student in the 1950s, totally unthinkable today!