Divining rods. God help you, Iraq.


The idiots are still using them. Corrupt politicians refuse to believe that the things don't work.

In the armored truck, with half-inch glass windows and iron paneling, the ride into town was an endless series of checkpoints. Beside great towers of poured-concrete blast walls, heavily armed Iraqis regarded us sourly and used a sort of divining rod to see whether our car had explosives. If shooters approached the truck and opened fire, I was told, we would have an hour before bullets breached the armor.

And some Western journalists apparently have no clue about them.

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