While it’s currently the start of summer in the Northern Hemisphere, it will inevitably get cold again. If you’re looking for a unique way of heating your workshop this year, you could do worse than build an 8-bit computer with a bunch of 6N3P vacuum tubes. While there are some technical details, you might find it a challenging build. But it is still an impressive sight, and it took 18 months to build a prototype and the final version. You can find the technical details if you want to try your hand. Oh, did we mention it takes about 200 amps? One of the prototype computers plays Pong on a decidedly low-tech display, which you can see below.

The architecture has 8 data bits and 12 address bits. It only provides six instructions, but that keeps the tube count manageable. Each tube has two triodes in one envelope and form a NOR gate which is sufficient to build everything else you need. In addition to tubes, there are reed relays and some NVRAM, a modern conceit.

Operating instructions are to turn it on and wait for the 560 tubes to warm up. Then, to quote the designer, “… I check the fire extinguisher is full, and run the code.” We wonder if one of the six instructions is halt and catch fire. Another quote from the builder is: “It has been a ridiculous amount of soldering and a fantastic amount of fun.” We can imagine.

If the computer seems familiar, we covered the first and second prototypes named ENA and Fred. We’ve also seen tube-base single-board computers.

After the Living Computers museum in Seattle closed like so many museums and businesses in 2020 with the pandemic, there were many who feared that it might not open again. Four years later this fear has become reality, as the Living Computers: Museum + Labs (LCM+L, for short) entire inventory is being auctioned off. This occurs only 12 years after the museum and associated educational facilities were opened to the public. Along with Allen’s collection at the LCM+L, other items that he had been collecting until his death in 2018 will also be auctioned at Christie’s, for a grand total of 150 items in the Gen One: Innovations from the Paul G. Allen Collection.

In 2022 Allen’s art collection had seen the auction block, but this time it would seem that the hammer has come for this museum. Unique about LCM+L was that it featured vintage computing systems that visitors could interact with and use much like they would have been used back in the day, rather than being merely static display pieces, hence the ‘living computers’ part. Although other vintage computing museums in the US and elsewhere now also allow for such interactive displays, it’s sad to see the only major vintage computing museum in Washington State vanish.

Hopefully the items being auctioned will find loving homes, ideally at other museums and with collectors who aren’t afraid to keep the educational spirit of LCM+L alive.

Thanks to [adistuder] for the tip.

Top image: A roughly 180° panorama of the “conditioned” room of the Living Computer Museum, Seattle, Washington, USA. Taken in 2014. (Credit: Joe Mabel)

In the innocent days of the early 90s the future of personal computing still seemed to be wide open, with pundits making various statements regarding tis potential trajectories. To many, the internet and especially the World Wide Web didn’t seem to be of any major significance, as it didn’t have the reach or bandwidth for the Hot New Thing^tm in the world of PCs: multimedia. Enter the CD-ROM, which since its introduction in 1985 had brought the tantalizing feature of seemingly near-infinite storage within reach, and became cheap enough for many in the early 90s. In a recent article by [Harry McCracken] he reflects on this era, and how before long it became clear that it was merely a bubble.

Of course, there was a lot of good in CD-ROMs, especially when considering having access to something like Encarta before Wikipedia and broadband internet was a thing. It also enabled software titles to be distributed without the restrictions of floppy disks. We fondly remember installing Windows 95 (without Internet Explorer) off 13 1.44 MB floppies, followed by a few buckets of Microsoft Office floppies. All pray to the computer gods for no sudden unreadable floppy.

Inevitably, there was a lot of shovelware on CD-ROMs, and after the usefulness of getting free AOL floppies (which you could rewrite), the read-only CD-ROMs you got in every magazine and spam mailing were a big disappointment. Although CD-ROMs and DVDs still serve a purpose today, it’s clear that along with the collapse of the Internet Bubble of the late 90s, early 2000s, optical media has found a much happier place. It’s still hard to beat the sheer value of using CD-R(W)s and DVD-/+R(W)s (and BD-Rs) for offline backups, even if for games and multimedia they do not appear to be relevant any more.

If you’re interested in another depiction of this period, it’s somewhere we’ve been before.

The venerable Intel 486 was released in 1989 as the successor to the extremely popular Intel 386. It was the minimum recommended processor for Windows 98.  (Surprisingly, the Windows 95 minimum was a 386!)  But by the time XP rolled around, you needed at least a 233 MHz Pentium to install. Or at least that was the case until recently when an extremely dedicated user on MSFN named [Dietmar] showed how he hacked the XP kernel so it could run on the classic chip!

The biggest issue preventing XP from working on earlier processors is an instruction introduced on the Pentium: CMPXCHG8B. This instruction compares two 8-byte values and takes different actions depending on an equality test. It either copies the 8 bytes to a destination address or loads it into a 64-bit register. Essentially, it does what it says on the tin: it CoMPares and eXCHanGes some values. If you want to dig into the nitty-gritty details, you can check out this info on the instruction taken from the x86 datasheet.

Without getting too technical, know that this instruction is vital for performance when working with large data structures. This is because one instruction moves 8 bytes at a time, unlike the older CMPXCHG instruction, which only moves a single byte. Essentially, [Dietmar] had to find every usage of CMPXCHG8B and replace it with an equivalent series of CMPXCHG instructions.

On a side note, the once well-known and devastating Pentium F00F bug was caused by a faulty encoding of the CMPXCHG8B instruction. This allowed any user, even unprivileged users, to completely lock up a system, requiring a full reset cycle!

So [Dietmar] was successful, and now you can run the German version of Windows XP on either a real 486 or an emulated one. The installer is available on the Internet Archive and there’s a detailed video below demonstrating installing it on the 86Box virtual machine host.

Thanks to [DosFox] for the tip!

In an excerpt from his book The Chinese Computer: A Global History of the Information Age, [Thomas Mullaney] explains how 1980s computer tech — at least the stuff that was developed in the West — was stubbornly rooted in the Latin alphabet. After all, ASCII was king, and with 60,000 symbols, Chinese was decidedly difficult to shoehorn into 8 bits. Unicode was years in the future so, of course, ingenious hackers did what they do best: hack!

The subject of the post is the dot matrix printer. Early printers had nine pins, which was sufficient to make Latin characters in one pass. To print Chinese, each character required at least two passes of the print head. This was slow, of course, but it was also subject to confusing variations due to ink inconsistency and registration problems. It also made the Chinese characters twice as big as English text.

Initial attempts were made to use finer pins to pack twice as many dots in the same space. But this made the pins too thin and subject to bending and breaking. Instead, some engineers would retain the two passes but move the print head just slightly lower so the second pass left dots in the gaps between the first pass dots. Obviously, the first pass would print even-numbered dots (0, 2, 4,…), and the second pass would catch the odd-numbered dots. This wasn’t faster, of course, but it did produce better-looking characters.

While international languages still sometimes pose challenges, we’ve come a long way, as you can tell from this story. Of course, Chinese isn’t the only non-Latin language computers have to worry about.

Tiny Tapout is an interesting project, leveraging the power of cloud computing and collaborative purchasing to make the mysterious art of IC design more accessible for hardware hackers. [Yeo Kheng Meng] is one such hacker, and they have produced their very first custom IC for use with their retrocomputing efforts. As they lament, they left it a little late for the shuttle run submission deadline, so they came up with a very simple project with the equivalent behaviour of the Covox Speech Thing, which is just a basic R-2R ladder DAC hanging from a PC parallel port.

The plan was to capture an 8-bit input bus and compare it against a free-running counter. If the input value is larger than the counter, the output goes high; otherwise, it goes low. This produces a PWM waveform representing the input value. Following the digital output with an RC low-pass filter will generate an analogue representation. It’s all very simple stuff. A few details to contend with are specific to Tiny Tapout, such as taking note of the enable and global resets. These are passed down from the chip-level wrapper to indicate when your design has control of the physical IOs and is selected for operation. [Yeo] noticed that the GitHub post-synthesis simulation failed due to not taking note of the reset condition and initialising those pesky flip-flops.

After throwing the design down onto a Mimas A7 Artix 7 FPGA board for a quick test, data sent from a parallel port-connected PC popped out as a PWM waveform as expected, and some test audio could be played. Whilst it may be true that you don’t have to prototype on an FPGA, and some would argue that it’s a lot of extra effort for many cases, without a good quality graphical simulation and robust testbench, you’re practically working blind. And that’s not how working chips get made.

If you want to read into Tiny Tapeout some more, then we’ve a quick guide for that. Or, perhaps hear it direct from the team instead?

While we aren’t typically put off by a large wristwatch, we were taken a bit aback by [Chris Fenton]’s latest timepiece — if you can call it that. It’s actually a 1/25th-scale Cray C90 worn as a wristwatch. The whole thing started with [Chris] trying to build a Cray in Verilog. He started with a Cray-1 but then moved to a Cray X-MP, which is essentially a Cray-1 with two extra address bits. Then he expanded it to 32 bits, which makes it a Cray Y-MP/C90/J90 core. As he puts it, “If you wanted something practical, go read someone else’s blog.”

The watch emulates a Cray C916 and uses a round OLED display on the top. While the move from 22 to 32 address bits sounds outdated, keep in mind the Cray addresses 64-bit words exclusively, so we’re talking access to 32 gigabytes of memory. The hardware consists of an off-the-shelf FPGA board and a Teensy microcontroller to handle mundane tasks like driving the OLED display and booting the main CPU. Interestingly, the actual Cray 1A used Data General computers for a similar task.

Of course, any supercomputer needs a super program, so [Chris] uses the screen to display a full simulation of Jupiter and 63 of its moons. The Cray excels at programs like this because of its vector processing abilities. The whole program is 127 words long and sustains 40 MFLOPs. Of course, that means to read the current time, you need to know where Jupiter’s moons are at all times so you can match it with the display. He did warn us this would not be practical.

While the Cray wouldn’t qualify as a supercomputer today, we love learning about what was state-of-the-art not that long ago. Cray was named, of course, after [Seymour Cray] who had earlier designed the Univac 1103, several iconic CDC computers, and the Cray computers, of course.

When word first got out that the Chinese board houses were experimenting with full color silkscreens, many in our community thought it would be a boon for PCB art. Others believed it would be akin to cheating by removing the inherent limitations of the medium. That’s not a debate that will be solved today, but here we have an example of a project that’s not only making practical application of the technology, but one that arguably couldn’t exist in its current form without it: a single-PCB ZX Spectrum emulator developed by [atomic14].

There basics here are, well, they’re pretty basic. You’ve got an ESP32-S3, a TFT display, a micro SD slot, and the handful of passives necessary to tie them all together. What makes this project stand out is the keyboard, which has been integrated directly into the PCB thanks to the fourteen pins on the ESP32-S3 that can be used as touch sensor input channels. There are issues with detecting simultaneous keypresses, but overall it seems to work pretty well.

But what makes the keyboard really special is that [atomic14] has used the color silkscreen capability to put all the necessary labels directly onto the keys. Technically this could have been done using a traditional single color silkscreen, but it would have been a hell of a lot harder to fit all the necessary information on there while keeping it readable. Plus, you’d miss the little rainbow in the corner.

As good as it looks already, the project is still in the early stages of development. Some components, such as the TFT display, still need to be better integrated into the board. In terms of software, the board is running a ZX Spectrum emulator that [atomic14] developed previously. Judging by the gameplay in the video below, it’s doing a solid job of bringing this classic system (and its games) back to life.

We’re big fans of calculators, computers and vintage magazines, so when we see something at the intersection of all three we always take a look. Back in 1966, Electronics Illustrated included instructions in their November issue on building, in their words, a “Space-Age Decimal Computer!” using neon lamps, a couple of tubes, and lots of soldering. The article starts on page 39 and it’s made fairly clear that it will be an expensive and complicated project, but you will be paid back many times over by the use and experience you will get!

Our modern idea of a computer differs greatly from the definitions used in the past. As many readers likely know, “Computer” was actually a job title for a long time. The job of a computer was to sit with pen, paper, and later on electromechanical devices, and compute and tabulate long lists of numbers. Imagine doing payroll for large companies completely by hand, every month. The opportunity for errors was large and was just part of doing business. As analog and later transistor-based computers started to be developed, they replaced the jobs of human computers in calculating and tabulating numbers. This is why IBM was originally called the Computing, Recording and Tabulating Company!

So at the time this article was written, the idea of a computer as just a number-cruncher meant that for the magazine readers, a machine that could add, subtract, multiply and divide was for all intents a computer. The kit is a fairly clever but simple machine. A rotary telephone dial is used to enter numbers from 1 to 10 (with the 0 acting as 10). This sends pulses into a series of boards that represent decimal decades from 1s all the way up to 100000s. You use a rotary switch to select which decade to enter a number into. And then, just like manual addition, you dial in the second number, working from the units upwards. All carries are done automatically, and you have your result after entering each addend.

As the machine can only count upwards, subtraction is done by adding complements. This is all based on doing the 9s complement of the number to be subtracted, and the article goes into a lot of detail on the operation of the machine. Tricks like these were common when using electromechanical machines and would have been familiar at the time to many readers. Of course, multiplication and division are repeated additions or subtractions, and with long inputs, it could become very tedious. However, as long as the machine was carefully constructed and each number carefully noted down, it could be a very useful tool that would eliminate errors!

Thanks to [Stephen] for the tip!

Last week, I stumbled on a marvelous book: “Giant Brains; or, Machines That Think” by Edmund Callis Berkeley. What’s really fun about it is the way it sounds like it could be written just this year – waxing speculatively about the future when machines do our thinking for us. Except it was written in 1949, and the “thinking machines” are early proto-computers that use relays (relays!) for their logic elements. But you need to understand that back then, they could calculate ten times faster than any person, and they would work tirelessly day and night, as long as their motors keep turning and their contacts don’t get corroded.

But once you get past the futuristic speculation, there’s actually a lot of detail about how the then-cutting-edge machines worked. Circuit diagrams of logic units from both the relay computers and the brand-new vacuum tube machines are on display, as are drawings of the tricky bits of purely mechanical computers. There is even a diagram of the mercury delay line, and an explanation of how circulating audio pulses through the medium could be used as a form of memory.

All in all, it’s a wonderful glimpse at the earliest of computers, with enough detail that you could probably build something along those lines with a little moxie and a few thousands of relays. This grounded reality, coupled with the fantastic visions of where computers would be going, make a marvelous accompaniment to a lot of the breathless hype around AI these days. Recommended reading!

We may be a bit biased, but the storage media of yesteryear has so much more personality than that of today. Yes, it’s a blessing to have terabyte SD cards smaller than your pinky nail and be able to access its data with mind-boggling speed. But there’s a certain charm to a mass storage device that can potentially slice off your finger.

We’re overstating the dangers of the venerable paper tape reader, of course, a mass storage device that [David Hansel] recreated a few years back but we only just became aware of. That seems a bit strange since we’ve featured his Arduino-based Altair 8800 simulator, which is what this tape reader is connected to. Mechanically, the reader is pretty simple — just a wooden frame to hold the LEGO Technic wheels used as tape reels, and some rollers to guide the tape through a read head. That bit is custom-made and uses a pair of PCBs, one for LEDs and one for phototransistors. There are nine of each — eight data bits plus the index hole — and the boards are sandwiched together to guide the paper tape.

The main board has an ATmega328 which reads the parallel input from the read head and controls the tape motor. That part is important thanks to Altair Basic’s requirement for a 100- to 200-ms delay at the end of each typed line. The tape reader, which is just being used as sort of a keyboard wedge, can “type” a lot faster than that, so the motor speed is varied using PWM control as line length changes.

Thanks to [Stephen Walters] for the tip.

In the course of a career, you may run up against projects that get cancelled, especially those that are interesting, but deemed unprofitable in the eyes of the corporate overlords. Most people would move, but [Ron Avitzur] just couldn’t let it go.

In 1993, in the midst of the transition to PowerPC, [Avitzur]’s employer let him go as the project they were contracted to perform for Apple was canceled. He had been working on a graphing calculator to show off the capabilities of the new system. Finding his badge still allowed him access to the building, he “just kept showing up.”

[Avitzur] continued working until Apple Facilities caught onto his use of an abandoned office with another former contractor, [Greg Robbins], and their badges were removed from the system. Not the type to give up, they tailgated other engineers into the building to a different empty office to continue their work. (If you’ve read Kevin Mitnick‘s Ghost in the Wires, you’ll remember this is one of the most effective ways to gain unauthorized access to a building.)

We’ll let [Avitzur] tell you the rest, but suffice it to say, this story has a number of twists and turns to it. We suspect it certainly isn’t the typical way a piece of software gets included on the device from the factory.

Looking for more computing history? How about a short documentary on the Aiken computers, or a Hack Chat on how to preserve that history?

[Thanks to Stephen for the tip via the Retrocomputing Forum!]

Right off the bat, we’ll stipulate that what [Adrian] is doing in the video below isn’t actual hot air solder leveling. But we thought the results of his card-edge connector restoration on a CGA video card from the early 80s was pretty slick, and worth keeping in mind for other applications.

The back story is that [Adrian], of “Digital Basement” YouTube fame, came across an original IBM video card from the early days of the IBM-PC. The card was unceremoniously dumped, probably due to the badly corroded pins on the card-edge bus connector. The damage appeared to be related to a leaking battery — the corrosion had that sickly look that seems to only come from the guts of batteries — leading him to try cleaning the formerly gold-plated pins. He chose naval jelly rust remover for the job; for those unfamiliar with this product, it’s mostly phosphoric acid mixed with thickeners and is used as a rust remover.

The naval jelly certainly did the trick, but left the gold-plated pins a little worse for the wear. Getting them back to their previous state wasn’t on the table, but protecting them with a thin layer of solder was easy enough. [Adrian] used liquid rosin flux and a generous layer of 60:40 solder, which was followed by removing the excess with desoldering braid. That worked great and got the pins on both sides of the board into good shape.

[Adrian] also mentioned a friend who recommended using toilet paper to wick up excess solder, but sadly he didn’t demonstrate that method. Sounds a little sketchy, but maybe we’ll give it a try. As for making this more HASL-like, maybe heating up the excess solder with an iron and blasting the excess off with some compressed air would be worth a try.

To say that Tandy’s TRS-80 Model 100 was an influential piece of computer hardware would be something of an understatement. While there’s some debate over which computer can historically be called the “first laptop”, the Model 100 was early enough that it helped influence our modern idea of portable computing. It was also one of the most successful of these early portables, due in part to how easy it was to write your own software for it using the built-in BASIC interpreter.

But as handy and capable as that integrated development environment might have been, it never produced anything as impressive as this Baldur’s Gate III “demake” created by [Alex Bowen]. Written in assembly, the game’s engine implements a subset of the Dungeons & Dragons Systems Reference Document (SRD), and is flexible enough that you could use it to produce your own ASCII art role-playing game that can run on either a Model 100 emulator like Virtual-T or on the real hardware.

Don’t worry about not having enough experience with the Model 100’s hardware to conjure up your own fantasy adventure. Assembly is done through zasm, and even though the code is intended for the 8085 CPU used in the Model 100, it’s actually written in Z80 syntax. The assembler’s support for mapping unicode characters also allows you to get a serviceable preview of what the levels will look like on the Model 100’s display right inside of your editor.

As you might imagine, getting such a complex game running on the meager hardware of the Model 100 took considerable trickery. [Alex] goes into plenty of detail in the project’s documentation and the video below, but perhaps our favorite optimization is the text compression routine. A Python script ran through all of the text strings used in the game to identify the most commonly used character sequences, and then mapped them to values which could be used to piece together words and sentences. This saved approximately 1500 bytes, which might not sound like a lot to a modern game developer, but it’s much appreciated on a machine that’s only got 24 kilobytes of RAM to begin with.

We’ve seen a number of projects featuring the TRS-80 Model 100, but most of them involve ripping out the original hardware and replacing it with something modern. That said, if you’ve got a stock Model 100 and give this technical masterpiece a shot, we’d love to hear about it in the comments.

Developer [frntc] has recently come up with a smaller and less expensive way to not only replace the SID chip in your Commodore 64 but to also make it a stereo SID! To top it off, it can also hold up to 16 games and launch them from a custom menu. The SIDKick Pico is a simple board with a Raspberry Pi Pico mounted on top. It uses a SID emulation engine based on reSID to emulate both major versions of the SID chip — both the 6581 and the 8580. Unlike many other SID replacements, the SIDKick Pico also supports mouse and paddle inputs, meaning it replaces all functionality of the original SID!

Sound can be generated in three different ways: either using PWM to create a mono audio signal that is routed out via the normal C64/C128 connectors, an external PCM5102A DAC board, or using a different PCB design that has pads for an on-board DAC and TL072 op-amp. While many Commodore purists dislike using replacement chips, the reality is that all extant SID chips were made roughly 40 years ago, and as more and more of them fail, options like the SIDKick Pico are an excellent way to keep the sound of the SID alive.

If you want to hear the SIDKick Pico in action, you can check out the samples on the linked GitHub page, or check out the video below by YouTuber Wolfgang Kierdorf of the RETRO is the New Black channel. To get your hands on a SIDKick Pico, you can follow the instructions on the GitHub page for ordering either bare PCBs or pre-assembled PCBs from either PCBWay or your board manufacturer of choice.

Thanks [Stephen] for the tip.

Intel has had a deathgrip on the PC world since the standardization around the software and hardware available on IBM boxes in the 90s. And if you think you’re free of them because you have an AMD chip, that’s just Intel’s instruction set with a different badge on the silicon. At least AMD licenses it, though — in the 80s there was another game in town that didn’t exactly ask for permission before implementing, and improving upon, the Intel chips available at the time.

The NEC V20 CPU was a chip that was a drop-in replacement for the Intel 8088 and made some performance improvements to it as well. Even though the 186 and 286 were available at the time of its release, this was an era before planned obsolescence as a business model was king so there were plenty of 8088 systems still working and relevant that could take advantage of this upgrade. In fact, the V20 was able to implement some of the improved instructions from these more modern chips. And this wasn’t an expensive upgrade either, with kits starting around $16 at the time which is about $50 today, adjusting for inflation.

This deep dive into the V20 isn’t limited to a history lesson and technological discussion, though. There’s also a project based on Arduino which makes use of the 8088 with some upgrades to support the NEC V20 and a test suite for a V20 emulator as well.

If you had an original IBM with one of these chips, though, things weren’t all smooth sailing for this straightforward upgrade at the time. A years-long legal battle ensued over the contents of the V20 microcode and whether or not it constituted copyright infringement. Intel was able to drag the process out long enough that by the time the lawsuit settled, the chips were relatively obsolete, leaving the NEC V20 to sit firmly in retrocomputing (and legal) history.

[sdz] of Vogons forum brings us an unexpected device for the 21st century – a 3dfx Voodoo 4 card in MXM format, equipped with 64MB of RAM. This isn’t just a showpiece – this card actually, properly works when installed into our hacker’s Dell Precision M4800, and [sdz] tells us more on how the card came to be.

Equipped with a VSA-100 GPU, this card has a whole lot of support components for adapting old interfaces to modern ones. There’s a PCIe-PCI bridge IC, an FPGA, HDMI muxes, and a Realtek scaler for video conversion. Handling all the MXM interfaces would’ve been downright impossible, so the card also holds an LVDS header for the M4800’s panel. Plus, for testing all of it, [sdz] has developed a PCIe to MXM adapter board with minimal circuitry needed to have the card work – this is a seriously involved hack and it’s executed remarkably well.

The forum post shows a whole lot of the journey, from receiving the PCBs to code and FPGA gateware bringup, as well as videos of VGA and HDMI operation. In the end, our hacker shows us a fully working setup, the 3dfx card inserted into M4800 and driving its display, as well as overclocking experiments; the author has promised to open-source the card files in due time, too. It’s seriously nice to see DIY MXM cards in the wild, and if you ever wanted to build one, we’ve got an article tells you everything you could want to know about the MXM standard.

We thank [Misel] for sharing this with us!

YouTuber My Developer Thoughts, a self-confessed middle-aged Software Developer, clearly has a real soft spot for the 6502-based 8-bit era machines such as the Commodore 64 and the VIC-20, for which he has created several video tutorials while travelling through retro-computing. This latest instalment concerns bringing up the toolchain for using the Kick Assembler with VS Code to target the C64, initially via the VICE emulator.

The video offers a comprehensive tutorial on setting up the toolchain on Windows from scratch with minimal knowledge. While some may consider this level of guidance unnecessary, it is extremely helpful for those who wish to get started with a few examples quickly and don’t have the time to go through multiple manuals and Wikis. In that regard, the video does an excellent job.

VS Code is a great tool with a large user base, so it’s not surprising that there’s a plugin for using the Kick Assembler directly from the IDE. You can also easily launch the application onto the emulator with just a push of a button, allowing you to focus on learning and working on your application. Once it runs under emulation, there’s a learning curve for running it on native hardware, but there are plenty of tutorials available for that. While you could code directly on the C64 itself, it’s much more pleasant to use modern tools, revision control, and all the conveniences and not have to endure the challenges.

Once you’ve mastered assembly, it may be time to move on to C or even C++. The Oscar64 compiler is a good choice for that. Next, you may want to show off your new skills on the retro demo scene. Here’s a neat C64 demo with a twist. There is no C64.

Thanks to [Stephen] for the tip!

To be an Amiga fan during the dying days of the hardware platform back in the mid 1990s was to have a bleak existence indeed. Commodore had squandered what was to us the best computer ever with dismal marketing and a series of machines that were essentially just repackaged versions of the original. Where was a PCI Amiga with fast processors, we cried!

Now, thirty years too late, here’s [Jason Neus] with just the machine we wanted, in the shape of an ATX form factor Amiga motherboard with those all-important PCI slots and USB for keyboard and mouse.

What would have been unthinkable in the ’90s comes courtesy of an original or ECS Amiga chipset for the Amiga functions, and an FPGA and microcontroller for PCI and USB respectively. Meanwhile there’s also a PC floppy drive controller, based on work from [Ian Steadman]. The processor and RAM lives on a daughter card, and both 68040 and 68060 processors are supported.

Here in 2024 of course this is still a 1990s spec board, and misty-eyed speculation about what might have happened aside, it’s unlikely to become your daily driver. But that may not be the point, instead we should evaluate it for what it is. Implementing a PCI bus, even a 1990s one, is not without its challenges, and we’re impressed with the achievement.

If you’re interested in Amiga post-mortems, here’s a slightly different take.