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Tour of the OBBR Facilities

Updated: August 20, 2007

We operate in a "get it done" atmosphere at the OBBR complex. The piles of crap, abandoned vehicles and misc. weaponry are all the product of extremely careful planning rarely seen in the private sector.

Digital workstation Wood-chip/mud/trash floor, dusty coffee cups, thrashed work jacket, World War One combat memoir, broken chairs, misc. hose and a nice big roll of paper towels. Ready to crunch the numbers on the next semi-legitimate OBBR project, or just waste endless hours playing computer games and reading The Onion. Now that's a workstation!

The Green Screen We built a 16'x8' green screen rig in the middle of the shop for some digital overlay tomfoolery slated for the near future. 48 channel lighting board in the foreground.

The Grid View of the lighting grid and dimmer packs for the green screen stage. We've got four big halogens that blast the screen, and 12 nice soft fresnels for those delicate dramatic moments that hopefully the talent will discover under our compassionate but demanding direction.

The Main Workbench Grow lights, empty ravioli cans, Taco bell detritus, fire extinguisher, snapped in half construction level (useless), coffee cups, Space Radio Dish transmission boom, paper towels, motor oil, misc. power tools and of course, the M-4 assault carbine with 4x red dot scope. We view the labs as our own little post-apocalypse refuge from the craziness of the pre-apocalypse world.

The Cell Phone Dialer Folks, in the post 9/11 world, if you spend a week going around to various electronics stores asking about remote cellphone dialers, radio control equipment, solenoids and hardwired remote triggering devices, you are going to get a good number of sideways looks. In the end, however, it was worth it. This thing is a general alarm relay for a relatively complicated irrigation pump/greenhouse/water holding system which is vulnerable to a whole bunch of really bad stuff happening when nobody is around. There is no telephone service - so normal telephone dialer alarms won't work - and I had to innovate. When one of the various sensors detects a problem, a relay sends power to an automotive solenoid (a 12v trunk latch salvaged from a '84 Chevy Blazer) enclosed in the black box on the right. When activated, the pointy trunk latch piston shoots out of the box and pokes the cellphone speed-dial button - dialing my number directly. I get the call on my phone, and the caller ID tells me that something has gone wrong up at the labs. After two seconds, the 1 amp automotive fuse burns out and the solenoid stops getting power - preventing it from continuing to mash the phone button after the call has been made. It works great, and has called me in time to save the entire operation from certain doom at least half a dozen times since its installation. Email me if you want a schematic - all you have to do is promise to credit me (Joe Brick) and you can use it for whatever you want. Also, nothing about the design could be adapted to making an IED - the switch triggers the cellphone, not the other way around.

Compressor - With Crap! Ah, yes - crap. What would a shop be without several piles of undifferentiated crap? Here we see a really nice Makita compressor in the foreground, with some barrels of rotting trash in the background. What would a shop be without the stink of rotting garbage - and human excrement? We truly have it all.

Pneumatics! Mmmmm...pneumatics. We try to incorporate at least one high-torque bolt on each project so we can tighten it down with the pneumatic wrench at some point along the way. To me, the sound of an air-wrench is pure credibility, boiled down and concentrated.

Space Radio Dish Transmitter Housing Sitting in the specially designated SRD corner, the transmitter housing awaits the next round of bench testing.

Ravioli: Snack of Kings Long hours working on dangerous and fruitless projects really gets the appetite going. Ravioli is the go-to canned food, but when the last spork has inexplicably been disposed of, radical short-term innovation often takes place. This scenario show here involved the use of sheetrock screws to create a type of tweezer/chopstick effect to get the food out of the can and into the mouth. I was lucky to have mini-ravioli in this particular situation, since their strength to weight ratio seems to be higher and they are much less likely to disintegrate when skewered by the screws. If you have ever tried to eat a can of food by attempting to just tip it into your mouth, you will know that this solution is vastly superior. (Note: We save the big cans of Beef Stew for special occasions).

Derelict: The '91 Alfa Romeo 164L *Sniff*. This thing was one hell of a car - even after the heater core began spraying ethylene glycol mist into the passenger compartment, even when the thermocouple reset itself to avoid turning the cooling fan on until the block caught on fire, even after the driving lights were smashed and the power steering went out (tip - if you inflate the front tires to 60psi you can still pretty much control the vehicle w/o power steering), even after the brakes failed and the emergency brake cable snapped, even after all four windows froze permanently in the down position - for the winter - and then froze in the up position for the summer, even after all the dash lights, the speedometer, the gas gauge, the tachometer, the radio, the dome lights, the cigarette lighter, the seat adjustment motors, the remote mirrors, the glove compartment light and the rear defroster failed, even after the water pump failed and triggered a violent chain reaction that shredded the timing belt and destroyed the engine,

Derelict: The '91 Alfa Romeo 164L - Part II even after one of the piston gudgeon pins inexplicably failed, releasing a piston head to rattle and clank loudly as it smashed the entire interior of the engine to metal powder, even after the struts wore to the point that a full set of expensive tires only lasted 5,000 miles, even after the clutch pedal emitted a very final-sounding "thunk" and depressed permanently to the floor, never to rise, or disengage the wheels from the engine again, even after the front wheel bearings failed so violently that both front wheels nearly flew off on the freeway, even after the last operational door handle snapped off in my hand, leaving me unable to get in or out of the car without spending 20 minutes with a screwdriver and pliers - even after ALL of this, I still love this frickin car. The Italians might be a bit short on a few of the finer points of engineering, but they know sexy - and they know it well. Even broken down on the side of the road, smoking and ruined, this car is far sexier than any other sports car I have ever owned, driven or even seen. Even though I spent hours and hours imagining what I would say to the designers of this car if I ever caught them in a dark alley alone, I will love it forever, and I will always hold it in a special place in my heart. Addio!

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