I just measured the electrical resistance of ice.
Ordinary water-ice is a conductor, but not in the usual way. The charge-carriers in most electrically conductive substances are electrons and/or ions, but in water-ice they're protons - mobile hydrogen nuclei. Technically those protons do still count as ions, since they're a hydrogen atom without its electron, but proton conductivity is a distinctly different phenomenon from the usual kinds.
So I was sitting here, and I thought, "let's see how conductive ice actually is".
First experiment: Plug multimeter probes into bench power supply.
(Just yesterday, I discovered that you can plug "shrouded" banana-plug multimeter probes into the usual sort of knobs-with-banana-sockets outputs from a power supply; just unscrew the knobs, and the probe-shroud fits neatly around the bare socket!)
Get ice cubes from fridge.
Wind power-supply up to maximum voltage (31V, for this eBay-cheapie supply). Stab probes into ice.
Current-display reading: Zero.
The scale on the bench supply bottoms out at 0.01 amps, though. Perhaps the resistance is just too high for 31 volts to be able to push 10 milliamps through it.
OK, let's try again.
Grab $10 yellow multimeter which for some reason I use much more often than my much more expensive Protek meter.
Set yellow multimeter to its highest resistance scale, which tops out at two megaohms. Stab probes into ice.
Reading: Off the scale, just like when the probes weren't touching the ice.
Suddenly remember that there is a reason why the Protek meter cost more. Its resistance mode tops out at 40 megaohms.
Set it to resistance mode, stab probes into ice.
Eureka! A reading!
With the probes separated by about an inch and only sticking into the ice a millimetre or two, I got a reading of about ten megaohms.
(I took care to avoid letting liquid water bridge the gap between the probes. The ice cubes were made from ordinary tapwater, and clean tapwater is a very lousy conductor - but once you're talking megaohms, all sorts of unlikely things are conductive enough to mess up a test like this.)
No wonder I didn't get a reading on the bench supply. 31 volts across ten million ohms gives a current of only 3.1 microamps. Even with the bench-supply probes really close together I was a few orders of magnitude short of the 10 milliamps that's the least the bench supply can display.
Perhaps it's not surprising that there are all those magic-water quacks. Water may seem to be a straightforward enough substance, but look just a little closer and it becomes as strange as electromagnetism. Hydrogen bonding, proton conductivity, a multitude of different kinds of ice, weird high-temperature, high-pressure behaviour... it goes on and on.
But I think there'd actually be just as much water woo-woo if water didn't do a single unexpected thing, not even expand when it froze. Crackpottery spontaneously generates all over the place, and bothers with scientific evidence only when some portion of that evidence can be used to support it.
(On the subject of ice, by the way, I highly recommend this book. It's full of gorgeous pictures of snowflakes, but it's not just another glossy coffee-table picture-book; it also has a lot of information about how ice forms and why it looks the way it does.)