In semiconductor technology, a base material like silicon is permanently modified to induce certain electrical behavior. In comparison a topological insulator material could be used to create temporary circuits using something like light exposure. An example of this is the Floquet topological state, which has long been theorized, but is now claimed to have been demonstrated in SnTe semiconductor material, per a paper by [F. Chassot] et al. in Nature Physics.
The concept of topological insulators was first proposed in 1985, but proving their existence was hard. Recently photonic Floquet topological insulators (PFTIs) have gained interest, with experiments by [Qian Ma] et al. in 2025 as well as other teams confirming aspects of the theory.
This recent publication by [Chassot] et al. would thus confirm that optical control of topological insulators is thus possible. At the core of this effect is the band inversion that results from the light pulses, with the change in conduction being very brief, essentially for as long as the femtosecond pulses were maintained.
Although still very much in the fundamental research phase, the research on these electronic topological insulators offers an interesting look at potential new technologies, much like the field of photonic topological insulators does for photonics.
Reverse-engineered schematic of the IBM 604’s TR-3 module. (Credit: Ken Shirriff)
Taking a break from ogling microscopic features in Intel’s semiconductor processors, [Ken Shirriff] is back to instead poking at decidedly macroscopic pluggable modules from the 1948 IBM 604 Electronic Calculator. This time around it’s one of the so-called trigger modules in the form of the TR-3, which uses a flip-flop circuit to implement the timing signals and pulses that made the 604 work.
This differs from the thyratron module that we covered previously. A thyratron is a high current switch and rectifier, which is useful more for the periphery of the computer system. These TR-3s on the other hand were used to implement the basic logic circuits, even if a flip-flop by itself seems rather boring, being just a circuit that toggles between two states.
In this TR-3 module we find a 2033 dual triode design which thus increases density by having the two inverters of the flip-flop in the same tube. The rest of the module is taken up by the requisite capacitors and resistors that complete the circuit. After wiring up this original module, [Ken] was able to make it trigger somewhat reliably, requiring a stable input trigger.
Notable is that in the IBM 650 from 1954 this flip-flop circuit was abandoned in favor of one based on diode logic, presumably to use more reliable Boolean logic instead of the much fussier analog interactions. Naturally, in the first transistorized computers the use of diode-transistor logic (DTL) was exceedingly common, so this makes a lot of sense.
Circuit bending is a chaotic art. At its simplest, it can just involve making connections between random points on a circuit board to create weird sounds in musical hardware. Or, you can complicate things, get really specific with your hookups, and twist them with various sorts of modulation. [Simon the Magpie] has been working on something closer to the latter category, with his neat project to add MIDI to the circuit bending world.
The concept is straightforward enough. [Simon] has created a device that you place in line with your circuit bent connections, particularly those that create pitch bends with pots thanks to their variable resistance. You can then play your MIDI keyboard, and the device will vary the resistance in the circuit and bend the pitch at your command. [Simon] simply calls the device MIDI TO RESISTANCE, because that’s… precisely what it does, with the aid of a digital potentiometer. He then demonstrates it doing its thing on pitchbent toys, and it sounds pretty radical in use.
If you’re trying to make your circuit bent toys and instruments more musical, this build should serve as a great inspiration. We’ve featured other oddball musical hacks in a similarly creative vein before, too—such as using mixers as a synthesizer in their own right. Have fun out there.
[David] has a young child who is clever enough to use a computer to play music, but he doesn’t quite want to hand over the mouse just yet. Thus, he set about building an electronic music player that could be operated in an altogether simpler fashion.
The build is based around an Arduino Nano — its job is to read RFID tags via an RC522 reader, with the tags themselves embedded in a series of small dolls belonging to [David]’s daughter. Upon reading the tag, the Arduino Nano chats over serial with a DFPlayer Mini module, which reads a playlist of MP3 files off of an SD card and plays them over a small 4 ohm speaker that [David] had laying around. It’s a simple build, with the components all neatly wrapped up in a handsome wooden case with a volume control and a skip button for if any one song becomes too annoying for a repeat listen.
We’ve featured other builds in this vein before, too. There’s something satisfying about a music player with such a simple interface—no delicate media to fiddle with, just pop the toy on top and get the playlist you were looking for. If you’re creating your own little musical builds at home, we’d love to see them on the tipsline.
Apparently you all love lasers just as much as we do. We put out a challenge to use, build, or otherwise abuse our favorite coherent light sources, and you responded. Some of the projects had been in the works for quite a while and were ridiculously polished, some were whipped together on the fly just for the contest, and we truly enjoyed both.
We only have three $150 DigiKey gift certificates to give out, though, so without further ado, we present to you…
Norton was always a PC company — Norton Commander, the file manager that launched a thousand clones, was only ever available for DOS, like the rest of the company’s offerings in those days. If they’d decided to port it to the C64, though, it would likely look a lot like [retro3872809] aka [Chicken 64]’s Multi Floppy Commander with Turbo, available on GitLab.
As you might be able to see on the screen shot above or in the demo video below, the application provides an 80-column interface with a split view to show a pair of floppies side-by-side. Not that you’re limited to two floppies, however. The software is happy to swap between all the drives on the bus, to the C64’s maximum of four. All four drives will be usable since the file manager lives on a cartridge.
All drive models are supported, though not all have turbo. As a file manager, it looks like it has the normal functionality you’d expect: renaming, copying, moving and deleting files and directories. You can also launch programs or print disk listings, assuming you have a printer attached to your Commodore.
You may have a 4K television. Perhaps you have even bought an 8K screen, despite the shortage of things worth watching in 8K. A 16K display is, today, a rarity. But even when those eventually become commonplace, yours probably will not cover 14,900 square meters, rise 73 meters into the air, or wrap over your head and behind your peripheral vision.
That is approximately what happens inside Sphere in Las Vegas. The venue’s interior display is quoted as having a resolution of 16K by 16K and an area of 160,000 square feet, or about 3.7 acres. Unlike most enormous movie screens, it is not illuminated by a projector. The entire surface is a direct-view LED display: an immense, curved video wall assembled from tens of thousands of smaller pieces.
After seeing The Wizard of Oz at Sphere, however, the most interesting part was not simply the screen’s size. It was how thoroughly the screen could disguise itself.
Where Did The Theater Go?
Radio City or the Sphere? (It is the Sphere; photo courtesy [DP])Before the presentation began, the auditorium appeared to have a conventional architectural ceiling. Great orange ribs curved over the seating, while ventilation grilles, suspended loudspeakers, lighting fixtures, curtains, and video monitors completed the illusion. It looked like the Radio City Music Hall’s proscenium. Then the show started — and the apparent theater completely disappeared. The speakers, the TVs, even the stage.
The obvious first conclusion was that the LED surface must be optically transparent, allowing the audience to see the real roof behind it until the pixels illuminated. That explanation was attractive because Sphere’s audio system really is installed behind the display, and the surface must allow sound through it.
It was also, apparently, wrong. The only explanation that makes sense is that the ceiling, ribs, grilles, speakers, and monitors were already being displayed by the screen. It was like a holodeck impersonating a physical theater interior. When the Oz material began, the system simply replaced one complete visual environment with another.
That’s what happens when a display fills nearly all of your useful visual field. A normal screen announces itself with a bezel, a wall, or at least a clearly visible edge. Sphere’s display extends upward and around the audience, removing many of those references. Give the image credible perspective, texture, shadows, and familiar architectural details, and the brain accepts the pixels as a room.
The same effect makes the Oz landscapes seem less like scenes displayed in front of the audience and more like places into which the auditorium has been inserted. Of course, there are more special effects. For The Wizard of Oz, there is wind and smoke, along with paper leaves, flower petals, and foam-rubber apples that fall from the sky. All of this makes it even more immersive.
