Remember Redbox? Those bright red DVD vending machines that dotted every strip mall and supermarket in America, offering cheap rentals when Netflix was still stuffing discs into paper envelopes? After streaming finally delivered the killing blow to physical rentals, Redbox threw in the towel in June 2024, leaving around 34,000 kiosks standing as silent monuments to yet another dead media format.
Last month, we reported that these machines were still out there, barely functional and clinging to life. Now, a company called The Junkluggers has been tasked with the massive undertaking of clearing these mechanical movie dispensers from the American retail landscape, and they’re doing it in a surprisingly thoughtful way. I chatted to them to find out how it’s going.
According to the Sapir–Whorf hypothesis, our language influences how we think and experience the world. That’s easy to imagine. Certainly our symbolism of mathematics influences how we calculate. Can you imagine doing moderately complex math with Roman numerals or without zero or negative numbers? But recently I was reminded that technological media also influences our perception of reality, and I have a Hackaday post to thank for it.
The post in question was about color TV. When I was a kid, most people had black and white TVs, although there were color sets. Even if you had a color set, many shows and movies were in black and white. Back then, many people still shot black and white film in their cameras, too, for many reasons. To make matters worse, I grew up in a small town, reading books from the local library that were ten or twenty years behind the times.
At some point, I read a statistic that said that most people dream in black and white. You may find this surprising, as I’ll bet you dream in color. It turns out, how people dream may have changed over the years and still and motion photography may be the reason.
The Post
In the post, I posed a question I’ve thought about many times: Did people dream in black and white before the advent of photography? It was kind of an off-hand remark to open the post, but many people reacted to it in the comments. They seemed surprised that I would ask that because, of course, everyone dreams in color.
I asked a few people I knew who also seemed very surprised that I would assume anyone ever dreams in color. But I was sure I had been told that sometime in the past. Time to hit the Internet and find out if that was incorrect or a false memory or something else. Turns out, it was indeed something else.
A scientific paper from 2008 held the answer. It turns out that science started asking questions like this in the early 1900s. Up through the 1940s, people overwhelmingly reported dreaming in black and white, at least most of the time. Color dreams were in the minority, although not unheard of.
Then something changed. Studies that occurred in the 1960s and later, show exactly the opposite. People almost always dream in color and rarely in black and white. Of course, that correlates well with the rise of color photos, movies, and television. What’s more is, while there is no scientific evidence gathering about earlier times, there is a suspicious lack of, for example, a Shakespeare quote about “The gray world of slumber…” or anything else that would hint that the writer was dreaming in black and white.
Interpretation
Judging from the paper, it seems clear that most people agree that color media played a role in this surprising finding. What they can’t agree on is why. It does seem unlikely that your dreams really change based on your media consumption. But it is possible that your recollection changes. This is particularly true since the way researchers acquired data changed over that time period, too. But even if the data doesn’t show that you dreamed in black and white, it did show that you remembered dreaming in black and white.
For that matter, it isn’t clear that anyone understands how you experience dreams visually, anyway. It isn’t like the back of your eyelids are little movie screens. You don’t actually see anything in a dream, you only remember seeing it.
The Question
If something as simple as black-and-white movies and TV can change how we perceive dreams, you have to wonder how much tech is changing our reality experience in other ways. Do we live differently because we have cell phones? Or the Internet? Will virtual reality alter our dream lives? It would be interesting to fast-forward a century and see what historians say about our time and how strangely we perceive reality today.
Ceci n’est pas unekeyboard, sure. But it’s keyboard-adjacent, and how. [Joshua Bemenderfer]’s wrists are tired of moving off the keyboard in order to mouse, and he decided to create a trackball that can sit just below the Space bar. The idea is to get rid of the regular mouse entirely if this works out.
Image by [Joshua Bemenderfer] via Hackaday.IOAnd sure, the Ploopy family of open-source mice would welcome him with open arms, but they don’t come cheap. [Joshua]’s plan here is to make something for under $10. Ideally, less than $5.
Starting with an off-the-shelf trackball, the first BOM came in around $25 if you throw in $5 for the 3D printing of the case. [Joshua] added some cheap ceramic bearings to make it better. Since this was still too high, he turned to the internals of cheap mice.
Trial and error has resulted in a 99-cent special from Ali being the idea candidate. There are even cheaper mice to be had, but this one has an ideal layout for doing a bit of surgery. It also requires remapping since [Joshua] is flipping the sensor upside down and using a POM ball on top of it. Now he just needs to figure out how to add buttons and make them split keyboard-friendly.
In the iconic 1990s TV series The X Files, David Duchovny’s FBI agent-paranormal investigator Fox Mulder has a poster on his office wall. It shows a flying saucer in flight, with the slogan “I Want To Believe”. It perfectly sums up the dilemma the character faces. And while I’m guessing that only a few Hackaday readers have gone down the full lizard-people rabbit hole, wanting to believe is probably something that a lot of us who love sci-fi understand. It would be a fascinating event for science if a real extraterrestrial craft would show up, so of course we want to believe to some extent, even if we’re not seriously expecting it to appear in a Midwestern cornfield and break out the probes any time soon.
Outside the realm of TV drama and science fiction it’s a sentiment that also applies in more credible situations. Back at the end of the 1980s for example when so-called cold fusion became a global story it seemed as though we might be on the verge of the Holy Grail of clean energy breakthroughs. Sadly we never got our Mr. Fusion to power our DeLorean, and the scientific proof was revealed to be on very weak foundations. The careers of the two researchers involved were irreparably damaged, and the entire field became a byword for junk science. A more recently story in a similar vein is the EM drive, a theoretical reactionless force generator that was promising enough at one point that even NASA performed some research on it. Sadly there were no magic engines forthcoming, so while it was worth reporting on the initial excitement, we’re guessing the story won’t come back.
When evaluating a scientific or technical breakthrough that seems as miraculous as it is unexpected then, of course we all want to believe. We evaluate based on the information we have in front of us though, and we all have a credibility pyramid. There’s nothing wrong with having an interest in fields that are more hope than delivery, indeed almost every technology that powers our world will at some time have to overcome skepticism in its gestation period. Perhaps it’s best to say that it’s okay to have hope, but hope shouldn’t override our scrutiny of the proof. Of course I want a perpetual motion machine, who wouldn’t, but as a fictional engineer once allegedly said, “Ye cannae change the laws of physics”. Continue reading “I Want To Believe: How To Make Technology Value Judgements”→
This week starts off with examinations of a couple hardware attacks that you might have considered impractical. Take a Ball Grid Array (BGA) NAND removal attack, for instance. The idea is that a NAND chip might contain useful information in the form of firmware or hard-coded secrets.
The question is whether a BGA desolder job puts this sort of approach out of the reach of most attackers. Now, this is Hackaday. We regularly cover how our readers do BGA solder jobs, so it should come as no surprise to us that less than two-hundred Euro worth of tools, and a little know-how and bravery, was all it took to extract this chip. Plop it onto a pogo-pin equipped reader, use some sketchy Windows software, and boom you’ve got firmware.
What exactly to do with that firmware access is a little less straightforward. If the firmware is unencrypted and there’s not a cryptographic signature, then you can just modify the firmware. Many devices include signature checking at boot, so that limits the attack to finding vulnerabilities and searching for embedded secrets. And then worst case, some platforms use entirely encrypted firmware. That means there’s another challenge, of either recovering the key, or finding a weakness in the encryption scheme. Continue reading “This Week In Security: Hardware Attacks, IoT Security, And More”→
The vast majority of motors that we care about all stick to a theme. They rely on the electromagnetic dance between electrons and magnets to create motion. They come in all shapes and sizes and types, but fundamentally, they all rely on electromagnetic principles at heart.
And yet! This is not the only way to create a motor. Electrostatic motors exist, for example, only they’re not very good because electrostatic forces are so weak by comparison. Only, a game-changing motor technology might have found a way to leverage them for more performance. It achieves this by working with fluid physics on a very small scale.
Anyone who was around for the various wars and conflicts of the early 2000s probably recalls the video clips showing guided bombs finding their targets. The black-and-white clips came from TV cameras mounted in the nose of the bomb, and were used by bombardiers to visually guide the warhead to the target — often providing for a level of precision amounting to a choice of “this window or that window?” It was scary stuff, especially when you thought about what was on the other side of the window.
Surprisingly, television-guide munitions aren’t exactly new, as this video on TV-guided glide bombs in WWII indicates. According to [WWII US Bombers], research on TV guidance by the US Army Air Force started in 1943, and consisted of a plywood airframe built around a standard 2000-pound class gravity bomb. The airframe had stubby wings for lift and steerable rudders and elevators for pitch and yaw control. Underneath the warhead was a boxy fairing containing a television camera based on an iconoscope or image orthicon, while all the radio gear rode behind the warhead in the empennage. A B-17 bomber could carry two GB-4s on external hardpoints, with a bulky TV receiver provided for the bombardier to watch the bomb’s terminal glide and make fine adjustments with a joystick.
In testing, the GB-4 performed remarkably well. In an era when a good bombardier was expected to drop a bomb in a circle with a radius of about 1,200′ (365 meters) from the aim point, GB-4 operators were hitting within 200′ (60 meters). With results like that, the USAAF had high hopes for the GB-4, and ordered it into production. Sadly, though, the testing results were not replicated in combat. The USAAF’s 388th Bomber Group dropped a total of six GB-4s against four targets in the European Theater in 1944 with terrible results. The main problem reported was not being able to see the target due to reception problems, leaving the bombardiers to fly blind. In other cases, the bomb’s camera returned a picture but the contrast in the picture was so poor that steering the weapon to the target was impossible. On one unfortunate attack on a steel factory in Duren, Germany, the only building with enough contrast to serve as an aiming point was a church six miles from the target.
The GB-4’s battlefield service was short and inglorious, with most of the 1,200 packages delivered never being used. TV-guided bombs would have to wait for another war, and ironically it would be the postwar boom in consumer electronics and the explosion of TV into popular culture would move the technology along enough to make it possible.
