kinda reminds me of the "airplane on a conveyor belt" Mythbusters episode.

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They've sure come a long way... we used to use our old chain driven potato harvester to dig up carrots after a slight modification. With potatoes sitting in a hill and the tops killed with spray before you harvest, it's a little easier as the front blade just cuts through the hill and you sift out the taters with a series of metal belts and a shaker tray, with one or two folks standing on the sideboards tossing out the rocks, dead animals and rotten ones. To do the carrots, we welded a modified ridging plough blade ahead of the scoop to break the land and free up the carrots, and up the conveyor they'd come. Had to move along a bit slower because the tops sometimes got snagged or bunched, but it worked pretty well, and was easier on the back. The potato harvester we had was built in 1928, lots of cast iron parts but held together for at least 46 years.

"Chinhyakkei" is a great show. Literally translated it means "Rare Scenes." Every week they invite people from around Japan to submit stories or scenery that is unusual or outright bizarre. A TV crew goes out to confirm and record it and then a panel of guest celebrities vote on which is the strangest submission. I think you get some prize money if the one you submit is voted most unusual. Some things I've seen on the show:
- A bicycle vending machine
- A parking lot where you pay the parking fee using one of those old-school vacuum tube conveyor systems
- The man with the longest mole whisker in Japan
- A house shaped like a soccer ball

Frankly I'm kind of surprised more clips from the show haven't ended up here in the wtf channel.

This thing is practically a Rube Goldberg machine.

A simple tilted chute with a slot that identifies which way the batteries that slide down it are pointing, separating them into forms that deposit them on a conveyor, would have done the trick without all that dancing.

(Yes, I know, I destroy the magic in souls frequently. Utility over aesthetics ho!)

I kept waiting for chocolates to start coming along the conveyor at ever increasing speed until the robots can't keep up.

No man, that body armour, those boots...I'd harvest the bones of a thousand murdered infants to build our bed if that's what it took. Do you think that's what she wants?

I had to go rewatch this. It's practically perfect. Not an origin story, no romance subplot, no compromise. Just a day in the life of Judge Dredd. Love it, but my favourite Dredd story was told in rhyme:

They'd been waiting there since nightfall for the Sharks to come along,
They knew they'd have to pass this stretch of street.
So they'd sharpened up their stickers and they'd brought along their bars,
And they were wearing steel-tipped stompers on their feet.

There was Big Frank Zit and Faceache, Crazy Joseph with his spear,
The Dixon Boys were there and Billy Rat.
Ike the Spike had brought his sister with her homemade ghetto blaster,
And the Ghoul had put new rivets in his bat.

Now it wasn't nothin' personal that they had against the Sharks,
Any bunch of dead-end spugs would do.
'Cos there was nothing they liked better than to mash and bash and stomp,
Same as any normal Mega-City juves.

"A-rumbling! A-rumbling! We love to go A-rumbling!
("AAAH!")
We love to lay in ambush in the night!
("AAAA!")
A-rumbling! A-rumbling! The Zits were born for rumbling!
(SMAK!)
There's nothing we like better than a fight!"
(KRAK!)

Then a headlight pierced the darkness - a rider gaunt and grim,
Daystick drawn and ready in his hand.
     The chin belonged to Dredd,
     And the voice as well, which said:
"You creeps can do your rumbling in the can!"

"It's just one judge!" cried Cindy Spike and opened with her blaster -
"I'll send him back to Central in a sack!"
(SPOING! "AAAAAAA!")
But Dredd's bike absorbed the blast and laid her on the street,
With tyre marks running right across her back.

Then the judge got down to business and his daystick rose and fell,
Striking out at every head he saw.
For though the Zits launched the attack, the Sharks were fighting back -
And self defence is no defence in law!

As the heap of bodies mounted, Big Zit could see his Waterloo,
Waiting just one station down the line.
Oh, sure, he loved to rumble - but he preferred to be on top...
"Let's scram and live to fight another time!"

("Dredd to Control! We got forty-plus juve rumblers fleeing east through Bernstein. Zits and Sharks, back-up required."
"Wilco, Dredd!"
"Med squads and meat wagons to Moreng Alley. Estimate twenty casualties, more to follow."
"Control to all units area Bernstein. YPs on the run."
VRMMMM!
"Pick 'em up!")

In the space of sixty seconds there was a judge on every street.
From watching bays others scanned the slab -
"We got two Zits runnin' fast though the Tamblin Underpass!"
"Krupke here! I got 'em in the bag!"
(THUNK! THUNK!)

They cut them off at Sondheim and they mopped them up on Wood,
On Pedway 12 they corned Crazy Joseph.
He tried to make a stand - but a spear's not worth a damn,
When it's up against a judge's high explosive.

The Ghoul surrendered quietly, he didn't have much choice -
Ike the Spike tried to scale the sector wall -
("Save your bullet, he'll never make it." "Oh no! AAAAAAAAAAAAH!" SPLATT!)
The Dixon Boys all copped it when they tried to hitch a ride,
On the 2020 Zoom to Bernstein Halt.

Big Zit thought he'd play it clever, the law was everywhere,
The safest thing for him to do was hide -
Dredd tracked him down on infrared - "Don't bother to come out!"
"The best place for trash like you is inside!"

In minutes flat they'd caught them, every Shark and every Zit.
To Dredd it fell to ladle out the years -
"Twenty years apiece for Cindy Spike, Billy Rat and Ghoul."
An extra ten left Big Frank Zit in tears.

For Faceache minus half his face, for the hapless Dixon Boys,
For Ike impaled so cruelly on his spike,
For Crazy Joe with his gaping hole, there'd be one final rumble,
Along the last conveyor belt at Resyk.

A-rumbling! A-rumbling! They loved to go A-rumbling!
But the Zits will go A-rumbling no more!
A-rumbling! A-rumbling! They loved to go A-rumbling!
But they should've known they couldn't buck the law!

A bunch of little, overpowered "boom boats" move the logs onto a conveyor track, which are then pulled out of the water into a staging area for the mill.

Laziness I can understand. I don't understand this, because his success rate per unit of expended energy is soooooo low. Plus, they end up in untidy piles rather than a neat stack, so he'll have to run all over the place to pick up the ones that bounced far away from the conveyor.

When you're so disgruntled that your "and not a single fuck was given" attitude is just making more work for yourself (like, 3-4 TIMES more work) ... maybe you need to take a deep breath and pull yourself together or something.

Boxes are damage-proof enough, s'how I'd do it if had no bucket-brigade-easier to pick 'em up off the side of the conveyor after they fall than to either twist and toss, or handle-walk-place....economy of movement saves yer spine!!

My personal comfort over your fucking baggage, ya leaflet-printing missionary!!

Fun! It's worth pointing out that the floor of the truck must have some kind of controllable conveyor for it to work, but it's still plenty skillful.

They'll deploy it into your bio-system via a convenient rectal sandwich delivery port.>> ^deathcow:

can you still get a cold sandwich for $7, do they still have to walk it to you, or will it be "whisked on an underseat conveyor directly to your seat which also cooks the meal and chills the drink before it arrives at your seat"

can you still get a cold sandwich for $7, do they still have to walk it to you, or will it be "whisked on an underseat conveyor directly to your seat which also cooks the meal and chills the drink before it arrives at your seat"