If you’re like us, you’ve got at least one bin dedicated to keeping the random hardware you just can’t bear to part with. In our case it’s mostly populated with the nuts and bolts left over after finishing up a car repair, but however it gets filled, it’s a mess. The degree to which you can tolerate this mess will vary, but for [EmGi], even a moderately untidy pile of bolts was enough to spur this entirely 3D-printed mechanical bolt sorter.

The elements of this machine bear a strong resemblance to a lot of the sorting mechanisms we’ve seen used on automated manufacturing and assembly lines. The process starts with a hopper full of M3 cap head bolts of varying lengths, which are collated by a pair of elevating platforms. These line up the bolts and lift them onto a slotted feed ramp, which lets them dangle by their heads and pushes them into a fixture that moves them through a 90° arc and presents them to a long sorting ramp. The ramp has a series of increasingly longer slots; bolts roll right over the slots until they find the right slot, where they fall into a bin below. Nuts can also feed through the process and get sorted into their own bin.

What we like about [EmGi]’s design is its simplicity. There are no motors, bearings, springs, or other hardware — except for the hardware you’re sorting, of course. The entire machine is manually powered, so you can just grab a handful of hardware and start sorting. True, it can only sort M3 cap head bolts, but we suspect the design could be modified easily for other sizes and styles of fasteners. Check it out in action in the video below.

Just because it’s simple doesn’t mean we don’t like more complicated hardware sorters, like the ones [Christopher Helmke] builds.

Thanks to [john] for the tip.

Remember that time a giant cylindrical aquarium in a Berlin hotel bar catastrophically failed and left thousands of fish homeless? We sure do, and further recall that at the time, we were very curious about the engineering details of how this structure failed so spectacularly. At the time, we were sure there’d be plenty of follow-up on that score, but life happened and we forgot all about the story. Luckily, a faithful reader named Craig didn’t, and he helpfully ran down a few follow-up articles that came out last year that are worth looking at.

The first is from prosecutors in Berlin with a report offering three possibilities: that the adhesive holding together the acrylic panels of the aquarium failed; that the base of the tank was dented during recent refurbishment; or that the aquarium was refilled too soon after the repairs, leading to the acrylic panels drying out. We’re a little confused by that last one just from an intuitive standpoint, but each of these possibilities seems hand-wavy enough that the report’s executive summary could have been “Meh, Scheiße happens.”

The conclusions reached in the prosecutor’s report come from a forensic analysis conducted by Professor Christian Bonten, who the building owners commissioned to get to the bottom of things. The work began soon after the accident with an on-site analysis of the debris field, followed by laboratory studies of 90 tonnes of recovered shards. They put over 1,100 hours into the effort, examining evidence down to the molecular level via chemical analysis of the polymer chains in the acrylic. Still, the best they could come up with was that the collapse was “sudden and unexpected,” a sentiment the fish would no doubt agree with, and that there was no way anyone could have predicted it. That’s a bit frightening; while the world isn’t exactly littered with giant aquaria like this, they aren’t unknown either, and the idea that any of these structures could fail without warning is chilling. Especially if you’re a fish.

The Covid pandemic lockdowns were difficult for a lot of people, but they did provide a (hopefully) unique opportunity to observe just how much the activity of 8 billion people has on our planet. We recall a ton of non-intuitive results such as decreased background noise in seismic observations, pollution maps that suddenly cleared up, and even changes in the behavior of wildlife. But one impact we really didn’t see coming during “The Anthropause” was a decrease in the surface temperature on the Moon. Researchers looked at data from six sites on the near side of the Moon during lunar nights from 2017 to 2023, and found a subtle but unmistakable dip in temperatures during April and May of 2020, the peak of the lockdowns. They explain that the decrease was due to lower longwave IR emissions from the Earth’s surface thanks to decreased greenhouse gas emissions during the period, which we find pretty fascinating.

One of the benefits of writing for Hackaday is the crazy random rabbit holes that we get to go down, especially when we’re doing research for an article. Such a thing happened this week with a random thought that popped up while reading something about the International Space Station: What would they do if someone died up there? Thankfully, we’ve had precious few space fatalities in the last 70 years, and those have mostly been restricted to launch and reentry, and hence have been — ahem — extremely energetic deaths.

But with two space stations in orbit hosting long-duration crews in an inhospitable environment, eventually the law of averages is going to catch up to us and someone is just going to die up there. Then what? We found an article from 2021 that attempts to answer this with the help of the indispensable Commander Chris Hadfield, who offers insights that suggest his tours on the ISS have given him plenty of time to mull it over. But the real treat in the article is the idea of adapting an idea known as “promession,” which would involve freezing a corpse in liquid nitrogen and then rapidly vibrating it to break it into tiny bits, suitable for rapid composting. The on-orbit version would skip the liquid nitrogen and use the cold of space, with a robotic arm used to vibrate the astronautsicle and pulverize him or her. The article takes some weird turns — Martian cannibals? — which is understandable given that at the time it was written, NASA didn’t really have a plan for what to do with dead astronauts. But fear not, because they seem to be working on it now.

And finally, we stumbled across a video looking into the mysterious inner workings of vintage elevator controls that we found strangely compelling. The elevator in question is a Schindler lift with an odd design; rather than sliding doors on both the car and the landings, this one just has the doors on the landings, and those are swing-type doors. It’s fascinating to watch the doors glide by as the elevator goes up and down the cleanest elevator shaft we’ve ever seen. Even tidier is the hoist room, which is filled with the snappiest relays and coolest old controls you’ll ever see.