Aluminium drinks cans make a great source of thin sheet metal which can be used for all manner of interesting projects, but it’s safe to say that retrieving a sheet of metal from a can is a hazardous process. Cut fingers and jagged edges are never far away, so [Kevin Cheung]’s work in making an easy can cutter is definitely worth a look.

Taking inspiration from a rotary can opener, he uses a pair of circular blades in an adjustable injection moulded plastic frame. If you’ve used a pipe cutter than maybe you are familiar with the technique, as the blade rotates round the can a few times it slowly scores and cuts through the metal. Doing the job at both ends of the can reveals a tube, which cna be then cut with scissors and flattened to make a rectangular metal sheet. Those edges are probably sharp, but nothing like the jagged finger-cutters you’d get doing the same by hand. The full video can be seen below the break, and the files to 3D print the plastic parts of the cutter can be found at the bottom of a page describing the use of cans to make a shingle roof.

When we saw [Max.K]’s automatic NiMh battery charger float past in the Hackaday tips line, it brought to mind a charger that might be automatic in the sense that any modern microcontroller based circuit would be; one which handles all the voltages and currents automatically. The reality is far cooler than that, a single-cell charger in which the automatic part comes in taking empty cells one by one from a hopper on its top surface and depositing them charged in a bin at the bottom.

Inside the case is a PCB with an RP2040 that controls the whole shop as well as the charger circuitry. A motorised cam with a battery shaped insert picks up a cell from the bin and moves it into the charger contacts, before dumping it into the bin when charged. What impresses us it how slick this device is, it feels like a product rather than a project, and really delivers on the promise of 3D printing. We’d want one on our bench, and after watching the video below the break, we think you will too.

The world of the overclocker contains many arcane tweaks to squeeze the last drops of performance from a computer, many of which require expert knowledge to understand. Happily for Raspberry Pi 5 owners the Pi engineers have come up with a set of tweaks you don’t have to be an overclocker to benefit from, working on the DRAM timings to extract a healthy speed boost. Serial Pi hacker [Jeff Geerling] has tested them and thinks they should be good for as much as 20% boost on a stock board. When overclocked to 3.2 GHz, he found an unbelievable 32% increase in performance.

We’re not DRAM experts here at Hackaday, but as we understand it they have been using timings from the Micron data sheets designed to play it safe. In consultation with Micron engineers they were able to use settings designed to be much faster, we gather by monitoring RAM temperature to ensure the chips stay within their parameters. Best of all, there’s no need to get down and dirty with the settings, and they can be available to all with a firmware update. It’s claimed this will help Pi 4 owners to some extent as well as those with a Pi 5, so even slightly older boards get some love. So if you have a Pi 5, don’t wait for the Pi 6, upgrade today, for free!

Many Hackaday readers have an interest in retro technology, but we are not the only group who scour the flea markets. Alongside us are the collectors, whose interest is as much cultural as it is technological, and who seek to preserve and amass as many interesting specimens as they can. From this world comes [colectornet], with a video that crosses the bridge between our two communities, examining the so-called transistor wars of the late 1950s and through the ’60s. Just as digital camera makers would with megapixels four or five decades later, makers of transistor radios would cram as many transistors as they could into their products in a game of one-upmanship.

A simple AM transistor radio can be made with surprisingly few components, but for a circuit with a reasonable performance they suggest six transistors to be the optimal number. If we think about it we come up with five and a diode, that’s one for the self-oscillating mixer, one for IF, an audio preamplifier, and two for the audio power amplifier, but it’s possible we’re not factoring in the relatively low gain of a 1950s transistor and they’d need that extra part. In the cut-throat world of late ’50s budget consumer electronics though, any marketing ploy was worth a go. As the price of transistors tumbled but their novelty remained undimmed, manufacturers started creating radios with superfluous extra transistors, even sometimes going as far as to fit transistors which served no purpose. Our curious minds wonder if they bought super-cheap out-of-spec parts to fill those footprints.

The video charts the transistor wars in detail, showing us a feast of tiny radios, and culminating in models which claim a barely credible sixteen transistors. In a time when far more capable radios use a fraction of the board space, the video below the break makes for a fascinating watch.

Making a microcontroller speak to a VGA monitor has been a consistent project in our sphere for years, doing the job for which an IBM PC of yore required a plug-in ISA card. Couldn’t a microcontroller talk to a VGA card too? Of course it can, and [0xmarcin] is here to show how it can be done with an Arduino Mega.

The project builds on the work of another similar one which couldn’t be made to work, and the Trident card used couldn’t be driven in 8-bit ISA mode. The web of PC backwards compatibility saves the day though, because many 16-bit ISA cards also supported the original 8-bit slots from the earliest PCs. The Arduino is fast enough to support the ISA bus speed, but the card also needs the PC’s clock line to operate, and it only supports three modes:  80 x 25, 16 colour text, 320 x 200, 256 colour graphics, and 640 x 480, 16 colour graphics.

Looking at this project, it serves as a reminder of the march of technology. Perhaps fifteen years or more ago we’d have been able to lay our hands on any number of ISA cards to try it for ourselves, but now eight years after we called the end of the standard, we’d be hard placed to find one even at our hackerspace. Perhaps your best bet if you want one is a piece of over-the-top emulation.

Back when CD-Rs were the thing, there were CD burner drives which would etch images in the unoccupied areas of a CD-R. These so-called LightScribe drives were a novelty of which most users soon tired, but they’re what’s brought to our mind by [dbalsom]’s project. It’s called PNG2disk, and it does the same job as LightScribe, but for floppies. There’s one snag though; the images are encoded in magnetic flux and thus invisible to the naked eye. Instead, they can be enjoyed through a disk copying program that shows a sector map.

The linked GitHub repository has an example, and goes in depth through the various options it supports, and how to view images in several disk analysis programs. This program creates fully readable disks, and can even leave space for a filesystem. We have to admit to being curious as to whether such an image could be made physically visible using for example ferrofluid, but we’d be the first t admit to not being magnetic flux experts.

PNG2disk is part of the Fluxfox project, a library for working with floppy disk images. Meanwhile LightScribe my have gone the way of the dodo, but if you have one you could try making your own supercaps.

The games consoles which came out of Japan in the 1980s are the stuff of legend, with the offerings from Nintendo and Sega weaving themselves into global popular culture. Most of us can recite a list of the main players in the market, but how many of us would have Epoch and their Super Cassette Vision on that list? [Nicole Express] is here with a look at this forgotten machine which tried so hard and yet missed the target when competing with the NES or Master System.

Before the arrival of the Sega and Nintendo cartridge based systems, one of the better known Japanese consoles was the Epoch Cassette Vision. This was something of a hybrid between single-game TV games and an Atari 2600 style computing device for games, in that it used pre-programmed microcontrollers in its cartridges rather than the ROMs of the 2600. For the late-70s gamer this was still hot stuff, but by 1983 as the Master System and NES hove into view it was definitely past its best. Epoch’s response for 1984 was the Super Cassette Vision, a much more conventional 8-bit console with on the face of it some respectable graphics and sound hardware.

The article looks at the console’s capabilities in detail, highlighting the multi-colored sprites and smooth sprite movement, but also the tilemap limitations and the somewhat awful sound chip shared with handheld games and sounding very much like it. Coupled with its inferior controllers and TV game style aesthetic, it’s not difficult to see why it would be the last console from this manufacturer.

If forgotten consoles are your thing, have a read about the Fairchild Channel F, the machine that gave us console cartridges.

There can be few among those of us who produce printed circuit boards, who have not at some point placed a component the wrong way round, or with the wrong footprint. Usually this can be rectified with a bit of rework and a fresh board spin, but just occasionally these mishaps make it into the wild undetected. It seems nobody is immune, as [Doug Brown] is here to tell us with a tale of an Apple product with a misplaced capacitor.

The LC series of Macs came out through the early 1990s, and their pizza-box style cases could be found slowly turning yellow in universities and schools throughout that decade. Of them there was a persistent rumor of the LCIII had a misplaced capacitor, so when he received an unmodified original machine he took a look. The investigation is quite simple, but revealing — there are three power supply rails and one of the capacitors does have a significant leak.

The explanation is simple enough, the designer had placed a capacitor on each rail, with its negative side to the ground plane, but one of the rails delivers -5 volts. Thus the capacitor is the wrong way round, and must have failed pretty early in the lifetime of each LCIII. We’re curious then since so many of them went through their lives without the component being replaced, how the circuit remained functional. We’re guessing that there were enough other capacitors in the -5 volt line to provide enough smoothing.

If you were to walk into most of the world’s hackerspaces, it’s likely that the most frequent big-ticket tool you’ll find after a 3D printer is a laser cutter. A few years ago that would inevitably been one of the ubiquitous blue Chinese-made K40 machines, but here in 2024 it’s become common to see something far more sophisticated. For all that, many of us are still laser cutter noobs, and for us [Dominic Morrow] gave a talk at last summer’s EMF Camp in the UK entitled “Getting Started In Laser Cutting“. [Dominic] is a long-term laser cutting specialist who now works for Lightburn, so he’s ideally placed to deliver this subject.

It’s fair to say that this is an overview in the time available for a hacker camp talk rather than an in-depth piece, so he takes the approach of addressing people’s misconceptions and concerns about cutters. Perhaps the most important one he addresses is the exhaust, something we’ve seen a few in our community neglect in favor of excessive attention to laser cooling or other factors. An interesting one for us though was his talking about the cheaper diode lasers, having some insight into this end of the market is valuable when you have no idea which way to go.

We’re sorry to have missed this one in the real world, perhaps because of the allure of junk.

A common part used to create a high voltage is a CRT flyback transformer, having been a ubiquitous junk pile component. So many attempts to use them rely on brute force, with power transistors in simple feedback oscillators dropping high currents into hand-wound primaries, so it’s refreshing to see a much more nuanced approach from [Alex Lungu]. His flyback driver board drives the transformer as it’s meant to be used, in flyback mode relying on the sudden collapse of a magnetic field to generate an output voltage pulse rather than simply trying to create as much field as possible. It’s thus far more efficient than all those free running oscillators.

On the PCB is a UC3844 switch mode power supply controller driving the transformer at about 25 kHz through an IGBT. We’d be curious to know how closely the spec of the transformer is tied to the around 15 kHz it would have been run at in a typical TV, and thus what frequency would be the most efficient for it. The result as far as we can see it a stable and adjustable high voltage source with out all the high-current and over heating, something of which we approve.

Need to understand more about free running versus flyback? Read on.

There was a time when no self-respecting electronics engineer would build a big project without at least one panel meter. They may be a rare part here in 2024, but we find ourselves reminded of them by [24Eng]’s project. It’s a 3D printed housing for one of those common small OLED displays, designed to be mounted on a panel with just a single round hole. Having had exactly this problem in the past trying to create a rectangular hole, we can immediately see the value in this.

It solves the problem by encasing the display in a printed shell, and passing a coarsely threaded hollow cylinder behind it for attachment to the panel and routing wires. This is where we are reminded of panel meters, many of which would have a similar sized protrusion on their rear housing their mechanism.

The result is a neatly made OLED display mounting, with a hole that’s ease itself to create. Perhaps now you’ll not be afraid to make your own panels.

A conventional tube amplifier has a circuit whose fundamentals were well in place around a hundred years ago, so there are few surprises to be found in building one today. Nevertheless, building one is still a challenge, as [Mike Freda shows us with a stereo amplifier in the video below the break.

The tubes in question are the 12AU7 double triode and 6L6 tetrode, in this case brand new PSVANE parts from China. The design is a very conventional single-ended class A circuit, with both side of the double triode being used for extra gain driving the tetrode. The output uses a tapped transformer with the tap going to the other grid in the tertode, something we dimly remember as being an “ultra-linear” circuit.

There’s an element of workshop entertainment in the video, but aside from that we think it’s the process of characterising the amp and getting its voltages right which is the take-away here. It’s not something many of us do these days, so despite the apparent simplicity of the circuit it’s worth a look.

These modern tubes come from a variety of different sources, we’ve attempted to track them down in the past.

Over the years we’ve featured many projects which attempt to replicate the feel of physical media when playing music. Usually this involves some kind of token representation of the media, but here’s [Bas] with a different twist (Dutch language, Google Translate link). He’s using the CDs themselves in their cases, identifying them by their barcodes.

At its heart is a Raspberry Pi Pico W and a barcode scanner — after reading the barcode, the Pi calls Discogs to find the tracks, and then uses the Spotify API to find the appropriate links. From there, Home Assistant forwards them along to a smart speaker for playback. As a nice touch, [Bas] designed a 3D printed holder for the electronics which makes the whole thing a bit neater to use.

We this approach for its relative simplicity, and because the real CDs ad the retro touch it’s a real winner. You can find all the resources in a GitHub repository, should you wish to make your own. Meanwhile, it’s certainly not the first barcode scanner we’ve seen.

It’s with sadness that we note the passing of Thomas E. Kurtz, on November 12th. He was co-inventor of the BASIC programming language back in the 1960s, and though his creation may not receive the attention in 2024 that it would have done in 1984, the legacy of his work lives on in the generation of technologists who gained their first taste of computer programming through it.

The origins of BASIC lie in the Dartmouth Timesharing System, like similar timesharing operating systems of the day, designed to allow the resources of a single computer to be shared across many terminals. In this case the computer was at Dartmouth College, and BASIC was designed to be a language with which software could be written by average students who perhaps didn’t have a computing background. In the decade that followed it proved ideal for the new microcomputers, and few were the home computers of the era which didn’t boot into some form of BASIC interpreter. Kurtz continued his work as a distinguished academic and educator until his retirement in 1993, but throughout he remained as the guiding hand of the language.

Should you ask a computer scientist their views on BASIC, you’ll undoubtedly hear about its shortcomings, and no doubt mention will be made of the GOTO statement and how it makes larger projects very difficult to write. This is all true, but at the same time it misses the point of it being a readily understandable language for first-time users of machines with very little in the way of resources. It was the perfect programming start for a 1970s or 1980s beginner, and once its limitations had been reached it provided the impetus for a move to higher things. We’ve not written a serious BASIC program in over three decades, but we’re indebted to Thomas Kurtz and his collaborator for what they gave us.

Thanks [Stephen Walters] for the tip.

In the iconic 1990s TV series The X Files, David Duchovny’s FBI agent-paranormal investigator Fox Mulder has a poster on his office wall. It shows a flying saucer in flight, with the slogan “I Want To Believe”. It perfectly sums up the dilemma the character faces. And while I’m guessing that only a few Hackaday readers have gone down the full lizard-people rabbit hole, wanting to believe is probably something that a lot of us who love sci-fi understand. It would be a fascinating event for science if a real extraterrestrial craft would show up, so of course we want to believe to some extent, even if we’re not seriously expecting it to appear in a Midwestern cornfield and break out the probes any time soon.

By All Means Believe. But Don’t Wreck Your Career

Outside the realm of TV drama and science fiction it’s a sentiment that also applies in more credible situations. Back at the end of the 1980s for example when so-called cold fusion became a global story it seemed as though we might be on the verge of the Holy Grail of clean energy breakthroughs. Sadly we never got our Mr. Fusion to power our DeLorean, and the scientific proof was revealed to be on very weak foundations. The careers of the two researchers involved were irreparably damaged, and the entire field became a byword for junk science. A more recently story in a similar vein is the EM drive, a theoretical reactionless force generator that was promising enough at one point that even NASA performed some research on it. Sadly there were no magic engines forthcoming, so while it was worth reporting on the initial excitement, we’re guessing the story won’t come back.

When evaluating a scientific or technical breakthrough that seems as miraculous as it is unexpected then, of course we all want to believe. We evaluate based on the information we have in front of us though, and we all have a credibility pyramid. There’s nothing wrong with having an interest in fields that are more hope than delivery, indeed almost every technology that powers our world will at some time have to overcome skepticism in its gestation period. Perhaps it’s best to say that it’s okay to have hope, but hope shouldn’t override our scrutiny of the proof. Of course I want a perpetual motion machine, who wouldn’t, but as a fictional engineer once allegedly said, “Ye cannae change the laws of physics”.

An Example Here In 2024

All this introspection has been brought to the fore for me by something very much in the present, the so-called hydrogen economy. It’s difficult to ignore our climate emergency, and among the energy solutions aimed at doing something about it, hydrogen seems very promising.

It’s really easy to make from water by electrolysis, there are several ways to turn it into useful energy, and the idea is that if you can store it for later use you’re on to a winner. We’ve seen hydrogen cars, trucks, aircraft, heavy machinery, trains, and even the gas supplanting methane in the domestic grid, so surely the hydrogen future is well under way, right?

Sadly not, because as many a pilot project has shown, it’s difficult to store or transport, it makes many existing metal fittings brittle, and the environmental benefit is often negated by the hydrogen being generated from higher carbon electrical supplies. We still want to believe, but we can’t claim it’s delivering yet.

Whenever we feature a hydrogen-based story, as for example with this experimental storage tech from Swiss researchers, there is no shortage of comments about all of hydrogen’s shortcomings, and some even accuse us of somehow being the snake-oil salesmen shilling the questionable product. I feel this misses the point, that even though in almost all cases the battery is for now the better option, we cover interesting technology stories regardless of judgements over their eventual success. Hydrogen has enough real science and engineering behind it that its problems might one day be overcome, thus we’d be doing our readers a disservice if we didn’t cover it. There are sometimes newsworthy stories upon which we very much take a credible stand based on opinion, but when it comes to pure tech stories such as a hydrogen vehicle we’re simply reporting on the story because we find it interesting and we think you will too. We don’t know that the breakthrough engineering work won’t occur, but we do know that it hasn’t yet.

So when looking at a piece of technology that’s not delivered on its promise, ask for a moment whether there’s a likely “yet” on the end of the sentence without too much of a suspension of credibility. You might find yourself pleasantly surprised.

To a casual observer of public discourse here in 2024 it seem extremely odd that the issue of replacing coal fired power stations with wind turbines is a matter of controversy, whether in America or Europe it’s an issue which causes some sparks to fly. The Atlantic has a recent article with a set of pictures from a gentler time in which the industrious nature of Nebraskan farmers in the 1890s receives praise as they create a wide variety of home-made wind turbines.

Farmers have always been the best hardware hackers, using what they have at hand to solve their problems and create the things they need. Perhaps out image of agricultural wind power is one of commercially produced wind pumps, but these are the generation of home-made devices which preceded that. Some of them look conventional to modern eyes, but others such as the horizontal “Jumbo” turbines have little equivalent today.

It’s easy to forget with so many energy sources at our disposal, that in the past the locality affected the choice of motive power. The Netherlands doesn’t have windmills because they are pretty, but because hundreds of years ago they lacked handy coal mines or convenient heads of water. Similarly out in the Nebraskan prairies they had plenty of wind, and never the folk to pass up on an opportunity, they made the best of it. And we’re very glad over a century later, that someone took the time to record their work.

If you’re hungry for more old-style wind power, we’ve got you covered, meanwhile 19th century America was no stranger to clever ways to use power.

Thanks [Hugh Brown] for the tip.

We’ll go out on a limb here and say that a large portion of Hackaday readers are also boat-builders. That’s a bold statement, but as the term applies to anyone who has built a boat, we’d argue that it encompasses anyone who’s run off a Benchy, the popular 3D printer test model. Among all you newfound mariners, certainly a significant number must have looked at their Benchy and wondered what a full-sized one would be like. Those daydreams of being captain of your ship may not have been realized, but [Dr. D-Flo] has made them a reality for himself with what he claims is the world’s largest Benchy. It floats, and carries him down the waterways of Tennessee in style!

The video below is long but has all the details. The three sections of the boat were printed in PETG on a printer with a one cubic meter build volume, and a few liberties had to be taken with the design to ensure it can be used as a real boat. The infill gaps are filled with expanding foam to provide extra buoyancy, and an aluminium plate is attached to the bottom for strength. The keel meanwhile is a 3D printed sectional mold filled with concrete. The cabin is printed in PETG again, and with the addition of controls and a solar powered trolling motor, the vessel is ready to go. Let’s face it, we all want a try!

On the bench where this is being written, there’s a Mitutoyo vernier caliper. It’s the base model with a proper vernier scale, but it’s beautifully made, and it’s enjoyable to see younger hardware hackers puzzle over how to use it. It cost about thirty British pounds a few years ago, but when it comes to quality metrology instruments that’s really cheap. The sky really is the limit for those in search of ultimate accuracy and precision. We can see then why this Redditor was upset when the $400 Mitutoyo they ordered from Amazon turned out to be nothing of the sort. We can’t even call it a fake, it’s just a very cheap instrument stuffed oddly, into a genuine Mitutoyo box.

Naturally we hope they received a refund, but it does raise the question when buying from large online retailers; how much are we prepared to risk? We buy plenty of stuff from AliExpress in out community, but in that case the slight element of chance which comes with random Chinese manufacture is offset by the low prices. Meanwhile the likes of Amazon have worked hard to establish themselves as trusted brands, but is that misplaced? They are after all simply clearing houses for third party products, and evidently have little care for what’s in the box. The £30 base model caliper mentioned above is an acceptable punt, but at what point should we go to a specialist and pay more for some confidence in the product?

It’s a question worth pondering as we hit the “Buy now” button without thinking. What’s your view? Let us know in the comments. Meanwhile, we can all be caught with our online purchases.

Thanks [JohnU] for the tip.

It was Supercon this weekend, and Hackaday staffers made their way to Pasadena for what was by all accounts an excellent event. Now they’re all on their way home on red-eye flights and far from their benches, so spare a thought for the lonely editor holding the fort while they’ve been having fun. The supply of cool hacks for your entertainment must continue, so what’s to be done? Fortunately Hackaday writer [Anne Ogborn] has the answer, in the form of an automated Hackaday article generator.

We once had a commenter make a withering insult that one of our contributors’ writing styles looked like the work of an AI driven bot, a sentence that the writer in question treasures enough to have incorporated in their Hackaday email signature. [Anne] is a data scientist and Prolog programmer by trade so knows a bit about AI, and she has no need for such frippery. Instead she’s made a deck of cards each marked with a common theme among the work featured here, and generating new article titles is a simple case of drawing cards from the pack and assembling the resulting sentence.

The result is both amusing and we think, uncannily on the mark. Who wouldn’t want an ESP8266 powered cardboard drone? We think it will make a valuable addition to the Hackaday armoury, to be brought out on days such as the first of April, when there’s always an unexpected shortage of hacks. Video below the break.