Lava isn’t the only reason GoPros become GonePros. Sometimes they sink into the sea. That seems apropos, as GoPro is the brainchild of surfer Nick Woodman. According to the company’s website, it all “started with a 35mm camera and a wrist strap made from old wetsuits and plastic scraps.” The firm’s die-hard devices were partly birthed of a sea-seeker’s sea junk, so it’s only appropriate that one later let us see a sea creature associated with people’s junk. That creature, of course, is the crab.

The footage above comes from Dan Rose, who indirectly demonstrated that the adage “use it or lose it” doesn’t apply to GoPros. Per the Huffington Post and Rose’s post, the camera was lost for a year after its unknown owner used it to film themselves plunging off a pier. Rose’s sister discovered it during a fishing trip in England. In 2016 he uploaded a truncated version of its contents to YouTube.

At the one-minute mark you see a POV-leap into the water. The device swiftly descends through a murky green expanse and greets the water’s bottom with a clank. Torrents turn the camera over, unveiling an underwater world of lettuce-like growths and amorphous debris. Later the scene resembles wind-whipped terrain in a hurricane. Suddenly spindly legs appear, and crab creeps into view. Its moving mouthparts almost look like a friendly wave. The terrestrial world waved back. So many people viewed the video that the lost camera’s owner was speedily found.

Speaking of twisted nonfiction, some people are really crooked. Scammers scramble the truth like eggs, and hatch scummy schemes. Pickpockets pick on people with packed pockets, putting them in pickles. Then there are armed robbers, the scariest scoundrels of the bunch. Whether they wield cold steel or launch hot lead, they make their victims sweat bullets. However, their most valuable weapon is brutal boldness.

In 2017 a baddy’s boldness led to a harrowing encounter in Buenos Aires. As the New York Daily News described, Alexander Hennessy was touring Argentina as part of a televised attempt to visit 195 countries with a group of travelers. At some point a motorcyclist abruptly blocked Hennessy in a bike lane. Audibly frazzled, the tourist tried to pedal past the impediment. But the rolling roadblock stopped him again, this time grabbing a gun and demanding Hennessy’s backpack in Spanish. Hennessy was at a loss for words, especially Spanish words. So he mostly said “amigo” with increasing urgency.

The bandit didn’t want friendship, and the tourist didn’t want bullets. Because Hennessy couldn’t comprehend the commands, he had to guess what his assailant wanted. He figured it was the bicycle, which seems like a step down for a motorcyclist, but whatever. Hennessy ditched his bike and darted down the street. The mugger laid chase and again demanded the bag, apparently unaware that he could have bagged a working GoPro. The gunman gave up once Hennessy’s fellow cyclists circled back and ran him off.

Much like liars and lawbreakers, Star Trek enthusiasts differ in what they’re like and what they like. But whether one identifies as a Kirk man, a Picard fan, or prefers the Janeway of captaining, every Trekkie should agree space is the final frontier. So when a group of enterprising friends turned a GoPro into a space voyager in 2013, Trekkies everywhere probably swooned from excitement … or continued debating which captain is better. Regardless, there’s no debating that the camera took a trippy trip through space and time.

As the video depicts, the friends enclose the camera in a custom 3-D-printed mount and bring it to Tuba City, Arizona, west of the Grand Canyon. There, they hitch the device to a big old balloon. Unlike the balloonists of old, however, this GoPro isn’t going around the world 80 days; it’s rising past the entire planet in less than 80 minutes. The camera ascends beyond the heavens, and the world shrinks away. The GoPro drinks in vivid images of Earth and sways as if wearing beer goggles. The space balloon busts, and the drunken camera crashes to the ground.

Miraculously, the device avoided DUI charges. In fact, it avoided everything, disappearing for two years. Per Popular Science, attempts to track the device via AT&T cellphones failed on account of an inadequate signal. Fittingly, an AT&T employee stumbled upon the camera while hiking and returned it. Like Earth itself, the GoPro’s journey had come full circle.

GoPro promotes its products as a way to “capture life as you live it,” which sounds inspiring but inspires questions. Just as physics and philosophy taught us that observing tiny particles changes their behavior, Facebook and photography have taught us that observing our tiny part in life changes how we behave. Can you truly “capture life as you live it” if that life is manufactured? Also, what if you record something that isn’t alive or would kill you if you tried to live in it?

Such questions are probably best answered by people like plasma physicist Andrew Seltzman, who filmed the life-threatening non-life featured above. But first he should tell us what in tarnation takes place in that film. It looks like a plodding amusement park ride through a flurry of flashing dandruff and multi-hued television static. It sounds like a bee at a barber shop. But as Seltzman explained to Vice, the footage actually shows plastic blocks passing through an electron beam irradiator and the flickering particulate fallout that follows.

Electron beam irradiators blast objects with lethally strong streams of negatively charged subatomic particles, i.e., electrons. People employ these machines to strengthen plastic, sterilize objects, and test nanotechnology. Seltzman wanted to see plastic get blasted but realized doing so firsthand would be the last thing he did. So he subbed in a GoPro, which captured nonliving particles non-living their non-lives as a buzzing dandruff blizzard in the dark.