Digital Rights Management (DRM) has been the bane of users since it was first introduced. Who remembers the battle it was getting Netflix running on Linux machines, or the literal legal fight over the DVD DRM decryption key? So the news from Signal, that DRM is finally being put to use to protect users is ironic.

The reason for this is Microsoft Recall — the AI powered feature that takes a snapshot of everything on the user’s desktop every few seconds. For whatever reason, you might want to exempt some windows from Recall’s memory window. It doesn’t speak well for Microsoft’s implementation that the easiest way for an application to opt out of the feature is to mark its window as containing DRM content. Signal, the private communications platform, is using this to hide from Recall and other screenshotting applications.

The Signal blogs warns that this may be just the start of agentic AI being rolled out with insufficient controls and permissions. The issue here isn’t the singularity or AI reaching sentience, it’s the same old security and privacy problems we’ve always had: Too much information being collected, data being shared without permission, and an untrusted actor having access to way more than it should.

Legacy Malware?

The last few stories we’ve covered about malicious code in open source repositories have featured how quickly the bad packages were caught. Then there’s this story about two-year-old malicious packages on NPM that are just now being found.

It may be that the reason these packages weren’t discovered until now, is that these packages aren’t looking to exfiltrate data, or steal bitcoin, or load other malware. Instead, these packages have a trigger date, and just sabotage the systems they’re installed on — sometimes in rather subtle ways. If a web application you were writing was experiencing intermittent failures, how long would it take you to suspect malware in one of your JavaScript libraries?

Where Are You Calling From?

Phone phreaking isn’t dead, it has just gone digital. One of the possibly apocryphal origins of phone phreaking was a toy bo’sun whistle in boxes of cereal, that just happened to play a 2600 Hz tone. More serious phreakers used more sophisticated, digital versions of the whistle, calling them blue boxes. In modern times, apparently, the equivalent of the blue box is a rooted Android phone. [Daniel Williams] has the story of playing with Voice over LTE (VoLTE) cell phone calls. A bug in the app he was using forced him to look at the raw network messages coming from O2 UK, his local carrier.

And those messages were weird. VoLTE is essentially using the Session Initiation Protocol (SIP) to handle cell phone calls as Voice over IP (VoIP) calls using the cellular data network. SIP is used in telephony all over the place, from desk phones to video conferencing solutions. SIP calls have headers that work to route the call, which can contain all sorts of metadata about the call. [Daniel] took a look at the SIP headers on a VoLTE call, and noticed some strange things. For one, the International Mobile Subscriber Identity (IMSI) and International Mobile Equipment Identity (IMEI) codes for both the sender and destination were available.

He also stumbled onto an interesting header, the Cellular-Network-Info header. This header encodes way too much data about the network the remote caller is connected to, including the exact tower being used. In an urban environment, that locates a cell phone to an area not much bigger than a city block. Together with leaking the IMSI and IMEI, this is a dangerous amount of information to leak to anyone on the network. [Daniel] attempted to report the issue to O2 in late March, and was met with complete silence. However, a mere two days after this write-up was published, on May 19th, O2 finally made contact, and confirmed that the issue had finally been resolved.

ARP Spoofing in Practice

TCP has an inherent security advantage, because it’s a stateful connection, it’s much harder to make a connection from a spoofed IP address. It’s harder, but it’s not impossible. One of the approaches that allows actual TCP connections from spoofed IPs is Address Resolution Protocol (ARP) poisoning. Ethernet switches don’t look at IP addresses, but instead route using MAC addresses. ARP is the protocol that distributes the MAC Address to IP mapping on the local network.

And like many protocols from early in the Internet’s history, ARP requests don’t include any cryptography and aren’t validated. Generally, whoever claims an IP address first wins, so the key is automating this process. And hence, enter NetImposter, a new tool specifically designed to automate this process, sending spoofed ARP packets, and establishing an “impossible” TCP connection.

Impossible RCE in SSH

Over two years ago, researchers at Qualsys discovered a pre-authentication double-free in OpenSSH server version 9.1. 9.2 was quickly released, and because none of the very major distributions had shipped 9.1 yet, what could have been a very nasty problem was patched pretty quietly. Because of the now-standard hardening features in modern Linux and BSD distributions, this vulnerability was thought to be impossible to actually leverage into Remote Code Execution (RCE).

If someone get a working OpenSSH exploit from this bug, I'm switching my main desktop to Windows 98 (this bug was discovered by a Windows 98 user who noticed sshd was crashing when trying to login to a Linux server!)

— Tavis Ormandy (@taviso) February 14, 2023

The bug was famously discovered by attempting to SSH into a modern Linux machine from a Windows 98 machine, and Tavis Ormandy claimed he would switch to Windows 98 on his main machine if someone did actually manage to exploit it for RCE. [Perri Adams] thought this was a hilarious challenge, and started working an exploit. Now we have good and bad news about this effort. [Perri] is pretty sure it is actually possible, to groom the heap and with enough attempts, overwrite an interesting pointer, and leak enough information in the process to overcome address randomization, and get RCE. The bad news is that the reward of dooming [Tavis] to a Windows 98 machine for a while wasn’t quite enough to be worth the pain of turning the work into a fully functional exploit.

But that’s where [Perri’s] OffensiveCon keynote took an AI turn. How well would any of the cutting-edge AIs do at finding, understanding, fixing, and exploiting this vulnerability? As you probably already guessed, the results were mixed. Two of the three AIs thought the function just didn’t have any memory management problems at all. Once informed of the problem, the models had more useful analysis of the code, but they still couldn’t produce any remotely useful code for exploitation. [Perri’s] takeaway is that AI systems are approaching the threshold of being useful for defensive programming work. Distilling what code is doing, helping in reverse engineering, and working as a smarter sort of spell checker are all wins for programmers and security researchers. But fortunately, we’re not anywhere close to a world where AI is developing and deploying exploitations.

Bits and Bytes

There are a pair of new versions of reverse engineering/forensic tools released very recently. Up first is Frida, a runtime debugger on steroids, that is celebrating its 17th major version release. One of the major features is migrating to pluggable runtime bridges, and moving away from strictly bundling them. We also have Volatility 3, a memory forensics framework. This isn’t the first Volatility 3 release, but it is the release where version three officially has parity with the version two of the framework.

The Foscam X5 security camera has a pair of buffer overflows, each of which can be leveraged to acieve arbitrary RCE. One of the proof-of-concepts has a very impressive use of a write-null-anywhere primitive to corrupt a return pointer, and jump into a ROP gadget. The concerning element of this disclosure is that the vendor has been completely unresponsive, and the vulnerabilities are still unaddressed.

And finally, one of the themes that I’ve repeatedly revisited is that airtight attribution is really difficult. [Andy Gill] walks us through just one of the many reasons that’s difficult. Git cryptographically signs the contents of a commit, but not the timestamps. This came up when looking through the timestamps from “Jia Tan” in the XZ compromise. Git timestamps can be trivially rewritten. Attestation is hard.

Dutch research institute [AMOLF] shows off a small robot capable of walking, hopping, and swimming without any separate control system. The limbs synchronize thanks to the physical interplay between the robot’s design and its environment. There are some great videos on that project page, so be sure to check it out.

Powered by a continuous stream of air blown into soft, kinked tubular limbs, the legs oscillate much like the eye-catching “tube man” many of us have seen by roadsides. At first it’s chaotic, but the movements rapidly synchronize into a meaningful rhythm that self-synchronizes and adapts. On land, the robot does a sort of hopping gait. In water, it becomes a paddling motion. The result in both cases is a fast little robot that does it all without any actual control system, relying on physics.

You can watch it in action in the video, embedded below. The full article “Physical synchronization of soft self-oscillating limbs for fast and autonomous locomotion” is also available.

Gait control is typically a nontrivial problem in robotics, but it doesn’t necessarily require a separate control system. Things like BEAM robotics and even the humble bristlebot demonstrate the ability for relatively complex behavior and locomotion to result from nothing more than the careful arrangement of otherwise simple elements.

It might be too soon to consider the innards of the old CRT monitor at the back of your closet to be something worth putting on display in your home or workshop. For that curio cabinet-worthy appeal, you need to look a bit further back. Say, about 150 years. Yes, that’ll do. A Crookes tube, the original electron beam-forming vacuum tube of glass, invented by Sir William Crookes et al. in the late 19th century, is what you need.

And a Crookes tube is what [Markus Bindhammer] found on AliExpress one day. He felt that piece of historic lab equipment was asking to be put on display in proper fashion. So he set to work crafting a wooden stand for it out of a repurposed candlestick, a nice piece of scrap oak, and some brass feet giving it that antique mad-scientist feel.

After connecting a high voltage generator and switch, the Crookes tube should have been all set, but nothing happened when it was powered up. It turned out that a capacitance issue was preventing the tube from springing to life. Wrapping the cathode end of the tube in aluminum foil, [Markus] formed what is effectively a Leyden jar, and that was the trick that kicked things into action.

As of this writing, there are no longer any Crookes tubes that we could find on AliExpress, so you’ll have to look elsewhere if you’re interested in showing off your own 19th century electron-streaming experiment. Check out the Crookes Radiometer for some more of Sir Williams Crookes’s science inside blown glass.

If you grew up with a beige Atari ST on your desk and a faint feeling of being left out once Doom dropped in 1993, brace yourself — the ST strikes back. Thanks to [indyjonas]’s incredible hack, the world now has a working port of DOOM for the Atari STe, and yes — it runs. It’s called STDOOM, and even though it needs a bit of acceleration or emulation to perform, it’s still an astonishing feat of retro-software necromancy.

[indyjonas] did more than just recompile and run: he stripped out chunks of PC-centric code, bent GCC to his will (cheers to Thorsten Otto’s port), and shoehorned Doom into a machine never meant to handle it. That brings us a version that runs on a stock machine with 4MB RAM, in native ST graphics modes, including a dithered 16-colour mode that looks way cooler than it should. The emotional punch? This is a love letter to the 13-year-old Jonas who watched Doom from the sidelines while his ST chugged along faithfully. A lot of us were that kid.

Sound is still missing, and original 8MHz hardware won’t give you fluid gameplay just yet — but hey, it’s a start. Want to dive in deeper? Read [indyjonas]’ thread on X.

As a common feature with thermal power plants, cooling towers enable major water savings compared to straight through cooling methods. Even so, the big clouds of water vapor above them are a clear indication of how much cooling water is still effectively lost, with water vapor also having a negative impact on the environment. Using so-called plume abatement the amount of water vapor making it into the environment can be reduced, with recently a trial taking place at a French nuclear power plant.

This trial featured electrostatic droplet capture by US-based Infinite Cooling, which markets it as able to be retrofitted to existing cooling towers and similar systems, including the condensers of office HVAC systems. The basic principle as the name suggests involves capturing the droplets that form as the heated, saturated air leaves the cooling tower, in this case with an electrostatic charge. The captured droplets are then led to a reservoir from which it can be reused in the cooling system. This reduces both the visible plume and the amount of cooling water used.

In a 2021 review article by [Shuo Li] and [M.R. Flynn] in Environmental Fluid Mechanics the different approaches to plume abatement are looked at. Traditional plume abatement designs use parallel streams of air, with the goal being to have condensation commence as early as possible rather than after having been exhausted into the surrounding air. Some methods used a mesh cover to provide a surface to condense on, while a commercially available technology are condensing modules which use counterflow in an air-to-air heat exchanger.

Other commercial solutions include low-profile, forced-draft hybrid cooling towers, yet it seems that electrostatic droplet capture is a rather new addition here. With even purely passive systems already seeing ~10% recapturing of lost cooling water, these active methods may just be the ticket to significantly reduce cooling water needs without being forced to look at (expensive) dry cooling methods.

Top image: The French Chinon nuclear power plant with its low-profile, forced-draft cooling towers. (Credit: EDF/Marc Mourceau)

Typing can be difficult to learn at the best of times. Until you get the muscle memory down, it can be quite challenging. However, if you’ve had one or more fingers amputated, it can be even more difficult. Just reaching the keys properly can be a challenge. To help in this regard, [Roei Weiman] built some assistive typing tools for those looking for a little aid at the keyboard.

The devices were built for [Yoni], who works in tech and has two amputated fingers. [Roei] worked on many revisions to create a viable brace and extension device that would help [Yoni] type with greater accuracy and speed.

While [Roei] designed the parts for SLS 3D printing, it’s not mandatory—these can easily be produced on an FDM printer, too. For SLS users, nylon is recommended, while FDM printers will probably find best results with PETG. It may also be desirable to perform a silicone casting to add a grippier surface to some of the parts, a process we’ve explored previously.

The great thing about 3D printing is that it enables just about anyone to have a go at producing their own simple assistive aids like these. Files are on Instructables for the curious. Video after the break.

If you want a regular table saw, you’re probably best off just buying one—it’s hard to beat the economies of scale that benefit the major manufacturers. If you want a teeny one, though, you might like to build it yourself. [Maciej Nowak] has done just that.

The concept is simple enough; a small motor and a small blade make a small table saw. [Maciej] sourced a remarkably powerful 800-watt brushless motor for the build. From there, the project involved fabricating a suitable blade mount, belt drive, and frame for the tool. Some time was well-spent on the lathe producing the requisite components out of steel and aluminum, as well as a stout housing out of plywood. The motor was then fitted with a speed controller, with the slight inconvenience that it’s a hobby unit designed to run off DC batteries rather than a wall supply. Ultimately, though, this makes the saw nicely portable. All that was left to do was to fit the metal top plate, guides, and a suitably small 3″ saw blade to complete the build.

We’ve seen mini machine tools like these before, too. They can actually be pretty useful if you find yourself regularly working on tiny little projects. Video after the break.

If we asked you to think of a device that converts a chemical reaction into electricity, you’d probably say we were thinking of a battery. That’s true, but there is another device that does this that is both very similar and very different from a battery: the fuel cell.

In a very simple way, you can think of a fuel cell as a battery that consumes the chemicals it uses and allows you to replace those chemicals so that, as long as you have fuel, you can have electricity. However, the truth is a little more complicated than that. Batteries are energy storage devices. They run out when the energy stored in the chemicals runs out. In fact, many batteries can take electricity and reverse the chemical reaction, in effect recharging them. Fuel cells react chemicals to produce electricity. No fuel, no electricity.

Superficially, the two devices seem very similar. Like batteries, fuel cells have an anode and a cathode. They also have an electrolyte, but its purpose isn’t the same as in a conventional battery. Typically, a catalyst causes fuel to oxidize, creating positively charged ions and electrons. These ions move from the anode to the cathode, and the electrons move from the anode, through an external circuit, and then to the cathode, so electric current occurs. As a byproduct, many fuel cells produce potentially useful byproducts like water. NASA has the animation below that shows how one type of cell works.

History

Sir William Grove seems to have made the first fuel cell in 1838, publishing in The London and Edinburgh Philosophical Magazine and Journal of Science. His fuel cell used dilute acid, copper sulphate, along with sheet metal and porcelain. Today, the phosphoric acid fuel cell is similar to Grove’s design.

The Bacon fuel cell is due to Francis Thomas Bacon and uses alkaline fuel. Modern versions of this are in use today by NASA and others. Although Bacon’s fuel cell could produce 5 kW, it was General Electric in 1955 that started creating larger units. GE chemists developed an ion exchange membrane that included a platinum catalyst. Named after the developers, the “Grubb-Niedrach” fuel cell flew in Gemini space capsules. By 1959, a fuel cell tractor prototype was running, as well as a welding machine powered by a Bacon cell.

One of the reasons spacecraft often use fuel cells is that many cells take hydrogen and oxygen as fuel and put out electricity and water. There are already gas tanks available, and you can always use water.

Types of Fuel Cells

Not all fuel cells use the same fuel or produce the same byproducts. At the anode, a catalyst ionizes the fuel, which produces a positive ion and a free electron. The electrolyte, often a membrane, can pass ions, but not the electrons. That way, the ions move towards the cathode, but the electrons have to find another way — through the load — to get to the cathode. When they meet again, a reaction with more fuel and a catalyst produces the byproduct: hydrogen and oxygen form water.

Most common cells use hydrogen and oxygen with an anode catalyst of platinum and a cathode catalyst of nickel. The voltage output per cell is often less than a volt. However, some fuel cells use hydrocarbons. Diesel, methanol, and other hydrocarbons can produce electricity and carbon dioxide as a byproduct, along with water. You can even use some unusual organic inputs, although to be fair, those are microbial fuel cells.

Common types include:

• Alkaline – The Bacon cell was a fixture in space capsules, using carbon electrodes, a catalyst, and a hydroxide electrolyte.
• Solid acid – These use a solid acid material as electrolyte. The material is heated to increase conductivity.
• Phosphoric acid – Another acid-based technology that operates at hotter temperatures.
• Molten carbonate – These work at high temperatures using lithium potassium carbonate as an electrolyte.
• Solid oxide – Another high temperature that uses zirconia ceramic as the electrolyte.

In addition to technology, you can consider some fuel cells as stationary — typically producing a lot of power for consumption by some power grid — or mobile.

Using fuel cells in stationary applications is attractive partly because they have no moving parts. However, you need a way to fuel it and — if you want efficiency — you need a way to harness the waste heat produced. It is possible, for example, to use solar power to turn water into gas and then use that gas to feed a fuel cell. It is possible to use the heat directly or to convert it to electricity in a more conventional way.

Space

Fuel cells have a long history in space. You can see how alkaline Bacon cells were used in early fuel cells in the video below.

Very early fuel cells — starting with Gemini in 1962 — used a proton exchange membrane. However, in 1967, NASA started using Nafion from DuPont, which was improved over the old membranes.

However, alkaline cells had vastly improved power density, and from Apollo on, these cells, using a potassium hydroxide electrolyte, were standard issue.

Even the Shuttle had fuel cells. Russian spacecraft also had fuel cells, starting with a liquid oxygen-hydrogen cell used on the Soviet Lunar Orbital Spacecraft (LOK).

The shuttle’s power plant measured 14 x 15 x 45 inches and weighed 260 pounds. They were installed under the payload bay, just aft of the crew compartment. They drew cryogenic gases from nearby tanks and could provide 12 kW continuously, and up to 16 kW. However, they typically were taxed at about 50% capacity. Each orbiter’s power plant contained 96 individual cells connected to achieve a 28-volt output.

Going Mobile

There have been attempts to make fuel cell cars, but with the difficulty of delivering, storing, and transporting hydrogen, there has been resistance. The Toyota Mirai, for example, costs $57,000, yet owners sued because they couldn’t obtain hydrogen. Some buses use fuel cells, and a small number of trains (including the one mentioned in the video below).

Surprisingly, there is a market for forklifts using fuel cells. The clean output makes them ideal for indoor operation. Batteries? They take longer to charge and don’t work well in the cold. Fuel cells don’t mind the cold, and you can top them off in three minutes.

There have been attempts to put fuel cells into any vehicle you can imagine. Airplanes, motorcycles, and boats sporting fuel cells have all made the rounds.

Can You DIY?

We have seen a few fuel cell projects, but they all seem to vanish over time. In theory, it shouldn’t be that hard, unless you demand commercial efficiency. However, it can be done, as you can see in the video below. If you make a fuel cell, be sure to send us a tip so we can spread the word.

Featured image: “SEM micrograph of an MEA cross section” by [Xi Yin]

Plenty of consumer goods, from passenger vehicles to toys to electronics, get tossed out prematurely for all kinds of reasons. Repairable damage, market trends, planned obsolescence, and bad design can all lead to an early sunset on something that might still have some useful life in it. This was certainly the case for a sound system that [Bill] found — despite a set of good speakers, the poor design of the hardware combined with some damage was enough for the owner to toss it. But [Bill] took up the challenge to get it back in working order again.

The main problem with this unit is that of design. It relies on a remote control to turn it on and operate everything, and if that breaks or is lost, the entire unit won’t even power on. Tracing the remote back to the control board reveals a 15-pin connector, and some other audio sleuths online have a few ways of using this port to control the system without the remote.

[Bill] found a few mistakes that needed to be corrected, and was eventually able to get an ESP8266 (and eventually an ESP32) to control the unit thanks largely to the fact that it communicates using a slightly modified I2C protocol.

There were a few pieces of physical damage to correct, too. First, the AC power cable had been cut off which was simple enough to replace, but [Bill] also found that a power connector inside the unit was loose as well. With that taken care of he has a perfectly functional and remarkably inexpensive sound system ready for movies or music. There are some other options available for getting a set of speakers blasting tunes again as well, like building the amplifier for them from scratch from the get-go.

DIY mechatronics always has some unique challenges when relying on simple tools. 3D printing enables some great abilities but high precision gearboxes are still a difficult problem for many. Answering this problem, [Sergei Mishin] has developed a very interesting gearbox solution based on a research paper looking into simple rollers instead of traditional gears. The unique attributes of the design come from the ability to have a compact angled gearbox similar to a bevel gearbox.

Multiple rollers rest on a simple shaft allowing each roller to have independent rotation. This is important because having a circular crown gear for angled transmission creates different rotation speeds. In [Sergei]’s testing, he found that his example gearbox could withstand 9 Nm with the actual adapter breaking before the gearbox showing decent strength.

Of course, how does this differ from a normal bevel gear setup or other 3D printed gearboxes? While 3D printed gears have great flexibility in their simplicity to make, having plastic on plastic is generally very difficult to get precise and long lasting. [Sergei]’s design allows for a highly complex crown gear to take advantage of 3D printing while allowing for simple rollers for improved strength and precision.

While claims of “zero backlash” may be a bit far-fetched, this design still shows great potential in helping make some cool projects. Unique gearboxes are somewhat common here at Hackaday such as this wobbly pericyclic gearbox, but they almost always have a fun spin!

Thanks to [M] for the tip!

Although there are some ferries and commercial boats that use a multi-hull design, the most recognizable catamarans by far are those used for sailing. They have a number of advantages over monohull boats including higher stability, shallower draft, more deck space, and often less drag. Of course, these advantages aren’t exclusive to sailboats, and plenty of motorized recreational craft are starting to take advantage of this style as well. It’s also fairly straightforward to remove the sails and add powered locomotion as well, as this electric catamaran demonstrates.

Not only is this catamaran electric, but it’s solar powered as well. With the mast removed, the solar panels can be fitted to a canopy which provides 600 watts of power as well as shade to both passengers. The solar panels charge two 12V 100ah LifePo4 batteries and run a pair of motors. That’s another benefit of using a sailing cat as an electric boat platform: the rudders can be removed and a pair of motors installed without any additional drilling in the hulls, and the boat can be steered with differential thrust, although this boat also makes allowances for pointing the motors in different directions as well. 

In addition to a highly polished electric drivetrain, the former sailboat adds some creature comforts as well, replacing the trampoline with a pair of seats and adding an electric hoist to raise and lower the canopy. As energy density goes up and costs come down for solar panels, more and more watercraft are taking advantage of this style of propulsion as well. In the past we’ve seen solar kayaks, solar houseboats, and custom-built catamarans (instead of conversions) as well.

Continuing the scientific theme of adding fluorescent proteins to everything that moves, this time spiders found themselves at the pointy end of the CRISPR-Cas9 injection needle. In a study by researchers at the University of Bayreuth, common house spiders (Parasteatoda tepidariorum) had a gene inserted for a red fluorescent protein in addition to having an existing gene for eye development disabled. This was the first time that spiders have been subjected to this kind of gene-editing study, mostly due to how fiddly they are to handle as well as their genome duplication characteristics.

In the research paper in Angewandte Chemie the methods and results are detailed, with the knock-out approach of the sine oculis (C1) gene being tried first as a proof of concept. The CRISPR solution was injected into the ovaries of female spiders, whose offspring then carried the mutation. With clear deficiencies in eye development observable in this offspring, the researchers moved on to adding the red fluorescent protein gene with another CRISPR solution, which targets the major ampullate gland where the silk is produced.

Ultimately, this research serves to demonstrate that it is possible to not only study spiders in more depth these days using tools like CRISPR-Cas9, but also that it is possible to customize and study spider silk production.

Don’t you hate it when making your DIY X-ray machine you make an uncomfortable amount of ozone gas? No? Well [Hyperspace Pirate] did, which made him come up with an interesting idea. While creating a high voltage supply for his very own X-ray machine, the high voltage corona discharge produced a very large amount of ozone. However, normally ozone is produced using lower voltage, smaller gaps, and large surface areas. Naturally, this led [Hyperspace Pirate] to investigate if a higher voltage method is effective at producing ozone.

Using a custom 150kV converter, [Hyperspace Pirate] was able to test the large gap method compared to the lower voltage method (dielectric barrier discharge). An ammonia reaction with the ozone allowed our space buccaneer to test which method was able to produce more ozone, as well as some variations of the designs.

Large 150kV gaps proved slightly effective but with no large gains, at least not compared to the dielectric barrier method. Of which, glass as the dielectric leads straight to holes, and HTPE gets cooked, but in the end, he was able to produce a somewhat sizable amount of ammonium nitrate. The best design included two test tubes filled with baking soda and their respective electrodes. Of course, this comes with the addition of a very effective ozone generator.

While this project is very thorough, [Hyperspace Pirate] himself admits the extreme dangers of high ozone levels, even getting close enough to LD50 levels for worry throughout out his room. This goes for when playing with high voltage in general kids! At the end of the day even with potential asthma risk, this is a pretty neat project that should probably be left to [Hyperspace Pirate]. If you want to check out other projects from a distance you should look over to this 20kW microwave to cook even the most rushed meals!

Thanks to [Mahdi Naghavi] for the Tip!

Some readers may recall building a line-following robot during their school days. Involving some IR LEDs, perhaps a bit of LEGO, and plenty of trial-and-error, it was fun on a tiny scale. Now imagine that—but rideable. That’s exactly what [Austin Blake] did, scaling up a classroom robotics staple into a full-size vehicle you can actually sit on.

The robot uses a whopping 32 IR sensors to follow a black line across a concrete workshop floor, adjusting its path using a steering motor salvaged from a power wheelchair. An Arduino Mega Pro Mini handles the logic, sending PWM signals to a DIY servo. The chassis consists of a modified Crazy Cart, selected for its absurdly tight turning radius. With each prototype iteration, [Blake] improved sensor precision and motor control, turning a bumpy ride into a smooth glide.

The IR sensor array, which on the palm-sized vehicle consisted of just a handful of components, evolved into a PCB-backed bar nearly 0.5 meters wide. Potentiometer tuning was a fiddly affair, but worth it. Crashes? Sure. But the kind that makes you grin like your teenage self. If it looks like fun, you could either build one yourself, or upgrade a similar LEGO project.

If legend is to be believed, three disparate social forces in early 20th-century America – the temperance movement, the rise of car culture, and the Scots-Irish culture of the South – collided with unexpected results. The temperance movement managed to get Prohibition written into the Constitution, which rankled the rebellious spirit of the descendants of the Scots-Irish who settled the South. In response, some of them took to the backwoods with stills and sacks of corn, creating moonshine by the barrel for personal use and profit. And to avoid the consequences of this, they used their mechanical ingenuity to modify their Fords, Chevrolets, and Dodges to provide the speed needed to outrun the law.

Though that story may be somewhat apocryphal, at least one of those threads is still woven into the American story. The moonshiner’s hotrod morphed into NASCAR, one of the nation’s most-watched spectator sports, and informed much of the car culture of the 20th century in general. Unfortunately, that led in part to our current fossil fuel predicament and its attendant environmental consequences, which are now being addressed by replacing at least some of the gasoline we burn with the same “white lightning” those old moonshiners made. The cost-benefit analysis of ethanol as a fuel is open to debate, as is the wisdom of using food for motor fuel, but one thing’s for sure: turning corn into ethanol in industrially useful quantities isn’t easy, and it requires some Big Chemistry to get it done.

Heavy on the Starch

As with fossil fuels, manufacturing ethanol for motor fuel starts with a steady supply of an appropriate feedstock. But unlike the drilling rigs and pump jacks that pull the geochemically modified remains of half-billion-year-old phytoplankton from deep within the Earth, ethanol’s feedstock is almost entirely harvested from the vast swathes of corn that carpet the Midwest US (Other grains and even non-grain plants are used as feedstock in other parts of the world, but we’re going to stick with corn for this discussion. Also, other parts of the world refer to any grain crop as corn, but in this case, corn refers specifically to maize.)

The corn used for ethanol production is not the same as the corn-on-the-cob at a summer barbecue or that comes in plastic bags of frozen Niblets. Those products use sweet corn bred specifically to pack extra simple sugars and less starch into their kernels, which is harvested while the corn plant is still alive and the kernels are still tender. Field corn, on the other hand, is bred to produce as much starch as possible, and is left in the field until the stalks are dead and the kernels have converted almost all of their sugar into starch. This leaves the kernels dry and hard as a rock, and often with a dimple in their top face that gives them their other name, dent corn.

Each kernel of corn is a fruit, at least botanically, with all the genetic information needed to create a new corn plant. That’s carried in the germ of the kernel, a relatively small part of the kernel that contains the embryo, a bit of oil, and some enzymes. The bulk of the kernel is taken up by the endosperm, the energy reserve used by the embryo to germinate, and as a food source until photosynthesis kicks in. That energy reserve is mainly composed of starch, which will power the fermentation process to come.

Starch is mainly composed of two different but related polysaccharides, amylose and amylopectin. Both are polymers of the simple six-carbon sugar glucose, but with slightly different arrangements. Amylose is composed of long, straight chains of glucose molecules bound together in what’s called an α-1,4 glycosidic bond, which just means that the hydroxyl group on the first carbon of the first glucose is bound to the hydroxyl on the fourth carbon of the second glucose through an oxygen atom:

Amylose chains can be up to about 500 or so glucose subunits long. Amylopectin, on the other hand, has shorter straight chains but also branches formed between the number one and number six carbon, an α-1,6 glycosidic bond. The branches appear about every 25 residues or so, making amylopectin much more tangled and complex than amylose. Amylopectin makes up about 75% of the starch in a kernel.

Slurry Time

Ethanol production begins with harvesting corn using combine harvesters. These massive machines cut down dozens of rows of corn at a time, separating the ears from the stalks and feeding them into a threshing drum, where the kernels are freed from the cob. Winnowing fans and sieves separate the chaff and debris from the kernels, which are stored in a tank onboard the combine until they can be transferred to a grain truck for transport to a grain bin for storage and further drying.

Once the corn is properly dried, open-top hopper trucks or train cars transport it to the distillery. The first stop is the scale house, where the cargo is weighed and a small sample of grain is taken from deep within the hopper by a remote-controlled vacuum arm. The sample is transported directly to the scale house for a quick quality assessment, mainly based on moisture content but also the physical state of the kernels. Loads that are too wet, too dirty, or have too many fractured kernels are rejected.

Loads that pass QC are dumped through gates at the bottom of the hoppers into a pit that connects to storage silos via a series of augers and conveyors. Most ethanol plants keep a substantial stock of corn, enough to run the plant for several days in case of any supply disruption. Ethanol plants operate mainly in batch mode, with each batch taking several days to complete, so a large stock ensures the efficiency of continuous operation.

To start a batch of ethanol, corn kernels need to be milled into a fine flour. Corn is fed to a hammer mill, where large steel weights swinging on a flywheel smash the tough pericarp that protects the endosperm and the germ. The starch granules are also smashed to bits, exposing as much surface area as possible. The milled corn is then mixed with clean water to form a slurry, which can be pumped around the plant easily.

The first stop for the slurry is large cooking vats, which use steam to gently heat the mixture and break the starch into smaller chains. The heat also gelatinizes the starch, in a process that’s similar to what happens when a sauce is thickened with a corn starch slurry in the kitchen. The gelatinized starch undergoes liquefaction under heat and mildly acidic conditions, maintained by injecting sulfuric acid or ammonia as needed. These conditions begin hydrolysis of some of the α-1,4 glycosidic bonds, breaking the amylose and amylopectin chains down into shorter fragments called dextrin. An enzyme, α-amylase, is also added at this point to catalyze the α-1,4 bonds to create free glucose monomers. The α-1,6 bonds are cleaved by another enzyme, α-amyloglucosidase.

The Yeast Get Busy

The result of all this chemical and enzymatic action is a glucose-rich mixture ready for fermentation. The slurry is pumped to large reactor vessels where a combination of yeasts is added. Saccharomyces cerevisiae, or brewer’s yeast, is the most common, but other organisms can be used too. The culture is supplemented with ammonia sulfate or urea to provide the nitrogen the growing yeast requires, along with antibiotics to prevent bacterial overgrowth of the culture.

Fermentation occurs at around 30 degrees C over two to three days, while the yeast gorge themselves on the glucose-rich slurry. The glucose is transported into the yeast, where each glucose molecule is enzymatically split into two three-carbon pyruvate molecules. The pyruvates are then broken down into two molecules of acetaldehyde and two of CO₂. The two acetaldehyde molecules then undergo a reduction reaction that creates two ethanol molecules. The yeast benefits from all this work by converting two molecules of ADP into two molecules of ATP, which captures the chemical energy in the glucose molecule into a form that can be used to power its metabolic processes, including making more yeast to take advantage of the bounty of glucose.

After the population of yeast grows to the point where they use up all the glucose, the mix in the reactors, which contains about 12-15% ethanol and is referred to as beer, is pumped into a series of three distillation towers. The beer is carefully heated to the boiling point of ethanol, 78 °C. The ethanol vapors rise through the tower to a condenser, where they change back into the liquid phase and trickle down into collecting trays lining the tower. The liquid distillate is piped to the next two towers, where the same process occurs and the distillate becomes increasingly purer. At the end of the final distillation, the mixture is about 95% pure ethanol, or 190 proof. That’s the limit of purity for fractional distillation, thanks to the tendency of water and ethanol to form an azeotrope, a mixture of two or more liquids that boils at a constant temperature. To drive off the rest of the water, the distillate is pumped into large tanks containing zeolite, a molecular sieve. The zeolite beads have pores large enough to admit water molecules, but too small to admit ethanol. The water partitions into the zeolite, leaving 99% to 100% pure (198 to 200 proof) ethanol behind. The ethanol is mixed with a denaturant, usually 5% gasoline, to make it undrinkable, and pumped into storage tanks to await shipping.

Nothing Goes to Waste

The muck at the bottom of the distillation towers, referred to as whole stillage, still has a lot of valuable material and does not go to waste. The liquid is first pumped into centrifuges to separate the remaining grain solids from the liquid. The solids, called wet distiller’s grain or WDG, go to a rotary dryer, where hot air drives off most of the remaining moisture. The final product is dried distiller’s grain with solubles, or DDGS, a high-protein product used to enrich animal feed. The liquid phase from the centrifuge is called thin stillage, which contains the valuable corn oil from the germ. That’s recovered and sold as an animal feed additive, too.

The final valuable product that’s recovered is the carbon dioxide. Fermentation produces a lot of CO₂, about 17 pounds per bushel of feedstock. The gas is tapped off the tops of the fermentation vessels by CO₂ scrubbers and run through a series of compressors and coolers, which turn it into liquid carbon dioxide. This is sold off by the tanker-full to chemical companies, food and beverage manufacturers, who use it to carbonate soft drinks, and municipal water treatment plants, where it’s used to balance the pH of wastewater.

There are currently 187 fuel ethanol plants in the United States, most of which are located in the Midwest’s corn belt, for obvious reasons. Together, these plants produced more than 16 billion gallons of ethanol in 2024. Since each bushel of corn yields about 3 gallons of ethanol, that translates to an astonishing 5 billion bushels of corn used for fuel production, or about a third of the total US corn production.

Automotive racing is a grueling endeavor, a test of one’s mental and physical prowess to push an engineered masterpiece to its limit. This is all the more true of 24 hour endurance races where teams tag team to get the most laps of a circuit in over a 24 hour period. The format pushes cars and drivers to the very limit. Doing so on a $500 budget as presented by the 24 hours of Lemons makes this all the more impressive!

Of course, racing on a $500 budget is difficult to say the least. All the expected Fédération Internationale de l’Automobile (FIA) safety requirements are still in place, including roll cage, seats and fire extinguisher. However, brakes, wheels, tires and safety equipment are not factored into the cost of the car, which is good because an FIA racing seat can run well in excess of the budget. Despite the name, most races are twelve to sixteen hours across two days, but 24 hour endurance races are run. The very limiting budget and amateur nature of the event has created a large amount of room for teams to get creative with car restorations and race car builds.

One such team we had the chance of speaking to goes by the name 24 Hours of Le-Mines. Their build is a wonderful mishmash of custom fabrication and affordable parts. It’s built from a restored 1999 NA Miata complete with rusted frame and all! Power is handled by a rebuilt 302 Mustang engine of indeterminate age.

The stock Miata brakes seem rather small for a race car, but are plenty for a car of its weight. Suspension is an Amazon special because it only has to work for 24 hours. The boot lid (or trunk if you prefer) is held down with what look to be over-sized RC car pins. Nestled next to the PVC pipe inlet pipe is a nitrous oxide canister — we don’t know if it’s functional or for show, but we like it nonetheless. The scrappy look is completed with a portion of the road sign fabricated into a shifter cover.

The team is unsure if the car will end up racing, but odds are if you are reading Hackaday, you care more about the race cars then the actual racing. Regardless, we hope to see this Miata in the future!

This is certainly not the first time we have covered 24 hour endurance engineering, like this solar powered endurance plane.

Taking a break from his usual prodding at suspicious AliExpress USB chargers, [DiodeGoneWild] recently had a gander at what used to be a good USB charger.

Before it went completely dead, the Anker 737 GaNPrime USB charger which a viewer sent him was capable of up to 120 Watts combined across its two USB-C and one USB-A outputs. Naturally the charger’s enclosure couldn’t be opened non-destructively, and it turned out to have (soft) potting compound filling up the voids, making it a treat to diagnose. Suffice it to say that these devices are not designed to be repaired.

With it being an autopsy, the unit got broken down into the individual PCBs, with a short detected that eventually got traced down to an IC marked ‘SW3536’, which is one of the ICs that communicates with the connected USB device to negotiate the voltage. With the one IC having shorted, it appears that it rendered the entire charger into an expensive paperweight.

Since the charger was already in pieces, the rest of the circuit and its ICs were also analyzed. Here the gallium nitride (GaN) part was found in the Navitas GaNFast NV6136A FET with integrated gate driver, along with an Infineon CoolGaN IGI60F1414A1L integrated power stage. Unfortunately all of the cool technology was rendered useless by one component developing a short, even if it made for a fascinating look inside one of these very chonky USB chargers.

Although plenty of us have our preferred language for coding, whether it’s C for its hardware access, Python for its usability, or Fortran for its mathematic prowess, not every language is specifically built for problem solving of a particular nature. Some are built as thought experiments or challenges, like Whitespace or Chicken but aren’t used for serious programming. There are a few languages that fit in the gray area between these regions, and one example of this is MOUSE, which can now be run on an Arduino.

Although MOUSE was originally meant to be a minimalist language for computers of the late 70s and early 80s with limited memory (even for the era), its syntax looks more like a more modern esoteric language, and indeed it arguably would take a Python developer a bit of time to get used to it in a similar way. It’s stack-based, for a start, and also uses Reverse Polish Notation for performing operations. The major difference though is that programs process single letters at a time, with each letter corresponding to a specific instruction. There have been some changes in the computing world since the 80s, though, so [Ivan]’s version of MOUSE includes a few changes that make it slightly different than the original language, but in the end he fits an interpreter, a line editor, graphics primitives, and peripheral drivers into just 2 KB of SRAM and 32 KB Flash so it can run on an ATmega328P.

There are some other features here as well, including support for PS/2 devices, video output, and the ability to save programs to the internal EEPROM. It’s an impressive setup for a language that doesn’t get much attention at all, but certainly one that threads the needle between usefulness and interesting in its own right. Of course if a language where “Hello world” is human-readable is not esoteric enough, there are others that may offer more of a challenge.

Image Credit: Maxbrothers2020

Although the idea of containing a plasma within a magnetic field seems straightforward at first, plasmas are highly dynamic systems that will happily escape magnetic confinement if given half a chance. This poses a major problem in nuclear fusion reactors and similar, where escaping particles like alpha (helium) particles from the magnetic containment will erode the reactor wall, among other issues. For stellarators in particular the plasma dynamics are calculated as precisely as possible so that the magnetic field works with rather than against the plasma motion, with so far pretty good results.

Now researchers at the University of Texas reckon that they can improve on these plasma system calculations with a new, more precise and efficient method. Their suggested non-perturbative guiding center model is published in (paywalled) Physical Review Letters, with a preprint available on Arxiv.

The current perturbative guiding center model admittedly works well enough that even the article authors admit to e.g. Wendelstein 7-X being within a few % of being perfectly optimized. While we wouldn’t dare to take a poke at what exactly this ‘data-driven symmetry theory’ approach exactly does differently, it suggests the use machine-learning based on simulation data, which then presumably does a better job at describing the movement of alpha particles through the magnetic field than traditional simulations.

Top image: Interior of the Wendelstein 7-X stellarator during maintenance.