Go Out in a Blaze of Glory

Early 20th-century postcards celebrating the Fourth of July.  One from 1908 depicts shooting at cats as part of the celebration.  Several address fireworks safety, with one "humorously" offering this advice: "How to prevent your boy being killed on the Fourth of July—kill him on the third."

I prefer this cover from the Civil War Harper's Weekly, July 8, 1865, depicting the spirit of peace transforming the battlefield.

Meanwhile, what's the best perfume to wear on the 4th of July, considering that no one has yet bottled the combined scent of charcoal, gunpowder, ketchup, beer, apple pie, grass, citronella, lemonade, corn, and ice? 

Robots on Fire
(anagrams: "son of orbiter," "strobe of iron," "reborn if soot," "borne of riots," "orbit for eons," "sin for reboot," "best iron roof")

A robot using himself as a cigarette lighter.

Why not light a robot candle with robot safety matches?

Moral of this story: when testing the shaving cream, take all the expensive electronics off the robot first.  (With pictures!)

The fire-breathing, airplane-tossing Robosaurus.

Christian Bale as a fiery, melting cyborg.

A two-headed fire-breathing robot bird.

Christian Ristow's robots destroy each other with fire on a regular basis.

A Subgenius robot on fire.

A flaming robot device that is lit at night.

Fire-spraying cyborgs.

Retro comic book fire-breathing robot.

Robot inferno.

Flaming humanoid robot art.

The robotic fire art of Heather Gallagher.

Sandman is an 850-lb fire shooting performance robot.

Robots on fire
(Anagrams: "son of orbiter," "strobe of iron," "reborn if soot," "borne of riots," "orbit for eons," "sin for reboot," "best iron roof")

A flaming robot device that is lit at night - BurningMan 2000

Why not light a robot candle with robot safety matches?

Sandman is an 850-lb fire shooting performance robot.

The airplane-tossing fire-breathing Robosaurus

Fire-breathing retro-robot comic figure, by Mr. Hooper of Nashville, TN

A robot using himself as a cigarette lighter

Christian Ristow's robots destroy each other with fire on a regular basis.

A two-headed fire-breathing robot bird

The robotic fire art of Heather Gallagher

A sub-genius robot on fire

Fire-spraying cyborgs

Christian Bale as a fiery, melting cyborg. (Worth 1000)

Flaming inferno

Eliot K Daughtry's Humanoid robot art

Moral of this story: when testing the shaving cream, take all the expensive electronics off the robot first. (With pictures!)

A new Japanese wine-tasting robot fires a beam of light into the wine, and then uses an infrared spectrometer to analyze the reflection. It studies the chemical composition of the wine and delivers an instant verdict about how good it is. (From Robots.net)

A robotic camera is taking a fish bowl for a swim

Murata Boy, the Robot that can Ride Bicycles, demonstrating gyro sensor technology

Crabfu miniature live steam engines

Also, How To Make Foil

This is a post that I am “co-blogging” with Hanan Levin of Grow-a-Brain. Thank you, Hanan, for the links you suggested!

Life with you has been a barren wasteland.  I’ve been burned too many times on the shifting sands of this desolate desert.  Now bite the dust and take a powder.

No need to keep kindling the fire of your cruelty.  Unlike the phoenix, I won’t be able to rise again from these ashes.  Allow my weak embers to slowly fizzle out.  I’m already extinguished.

Leave, why don’t you?  But when you come crawling back, be careful not to trip on the pieces of my shattered life that you left in your wake.  Don’t worry—the pieces won’t cut you.  Their edges have long since been worn down.

Follow your blind determination and do what you have to do.  When you’ve finally had your way, and you brush the swarming flies off my dead body, you’ll notice that I’ve left you a present—
a t-shirt that proclaims ‘I made my choice.’  Wear it proudly.

Feel my cold hands.  They are nothing compared to the chill you have left in my heart.  Where’s the champagne?  Where are the balloons?  Why aren’t we celebrating your triumph?  You have what you always wanted.

Don’t tell me I don’t know the horrors of Vietnam.  You’re waging your own diabolical war, and I’m the lone victim. Congratulations, General, the target has been obliterated.  Go ahead and plant the flagpole of victory straight through my heart.  You’ve won.

You have made it abundantly clear what is important in your life.  Through body language, speech, gestures, facial expressions, postures, eye contact, and written words, you have effectively communicated your point.  Here’s your report card with a great big “A.”  It’s underlined, italicized, and in ALL CAPS!  Show and Tell is over for today.  So take your gold star and run back to Mommie.

You aimed carefully, and your poison darts have hit their target.  The tips were sharp, and the venom deadly.  Darkness fills my field of vision, and I succumb to slow death.  Bull’s-eye!

I must have been wearing a blindfold.  It’s suddenly so obvious why we can’t communicate anymore.  You’re a walking corpse.  You’ve been dead inside for so long it would take a Ouji Board to get a simple ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ out of you.  Well, I’m not a Medium, and the seance is over.

Pardon me for yawning.  I’m just so bored with this trivial charade that I forgot what we were talking about.  And thank god for that, because I don’t think I could stay awake through another moment of such mindless droning.  Now if you’ll excuse me, whatever you said your name was, I have some comparatively challenging things to do with my life, like watching Wheel of Fortune.