This week Jonathan chats with Joseph P. De Veaugh-Geiss about KDE’s eco initiative and the End of 10 campaign! Is Open Source really a win for environmentalism? How does the End of 10 campaign tie in? And what does Pewdiepie have to do with it? Watch to find out!
The inside of this AF117 transistor can was a thriving whisker ecosystem. (Credit: Anthony Francis-Jones)
AF114 germanium transistors and related ones like the AF115 through AF117 were quite popular during the 1960s, but they quickly developed a reputation for failure. This is due to what should have made them more reliable, namely the can shielding the germanium transistor inside that is connected with a fourth ‘screen’ pin. This failure mode is demonstrated in a video by [Anthony Francis-Jones] in which he tests a number of new-old-stock AF-series transistors only for them all to test faulty and show clear whisker growth on the can’s exterior.
Naturally, the next step was to cut one of these defective transistors open to see whether the whiskers could be caught in the act. For this a pipe cutter was used on the fairly beefy can, which turned out to rather effective and gave great access to the inside of these 1960s-era components. The insides of the cans were as expected bristling with whiskers.
The AF11x family of transistors are high-frequency PNP transistors that saw frequent use in everything from consumer radios to just about anything else that did RF or audio. It’s worth noting that the material of the can is likely to be zinc and not tin, so these would be zinc whiskers. Many metals like to grow such whiskers, including lead, so the end effect is often a thin conductive strand bridging things that shouldn’t be. Apparently the can itself wasn’t the only source of these whiskers, which adds to the fun.
In the rest of the video [Anthony] shows off the fascinating construction of these germanium transistors, as well as potential repairs to remove the whisker-induced shorts through melting them. This is done by jolting them with a fairly high current from a capacitor. The good news is that this made the component tester see the AF114 as a transistor again, except as a rather confused NPN one. Clearly this isn’t an easy fix, and it would be temporary at best anyway, as the whiskers will never stop growing.
It’s always clock time at Hackaday, and this time we have an interesting hack of a clock by [danjovic]– the CIS4, a Cistercian digital clock.
The Cistertians, in case you weren’t paying close attention to European holy orders during the 13th to 15th centuries were the group of monks you’d most likely have found us in. They were the hackers of the middle ages, establishing monestaries across western Europe that were chock full of hacks– including their own numeral system. Cistercian numerals were much more efficient (in spaces and penstrokes) than the Roman numerals they replaced, and even the “Arabic” numerals that replaced them. A single glyph could record anything from 1 to 9,999. (The Europeans hadn’t yet cottoned on to zero.)
The Cistertian glyphs reduced to a 4×4 display.
Depending how you wanted to count time, a single glyph could be used; it looks like [danjovic] is using the thousands and hundreds portions of the glyph for hours and the tens and ones for minutes. This is all accomplished with a 4×4 neopixel matrix, run by an Attiny85 Digispark with a DS3231 RTC module keeping time. A slight simplification is required to reduce the glyphs to 4×4, but we don’t think the monks would mind. For those of us who don’t wear tonsures, an easy read mode scrolls the time in Arabic numerals. (Which still aren’t super easy,with only 4×4 LEDs to display them. See the demo video embedded below and try and guess the time.)
One nice quality of life feature is an LDR for ambient light detection, to automatically adjust the neopixels’ brightness. The hackiest part, which we thought was really clever, is the enclosure: it’s a cheap LED ceiling light. This provides a diffuser, housing and mounting hardware with decent design for no effort. A 3D-printed mask sits between the diffuser and the LEDs and doubles as a PCB holder. All very elegant.
[danjovic] did include a buzzer in the design, but does say if its been programed to sound off for matins, nones and vespers. In any case, at least it’s easier to read than his binary-coded-octal clock that we featured a few years back. This isn’t our first look at this number system,so evidently people can read them with practice.
Great Scott! If my calculations are correct, when this baby hits 88 miles per hour, you’re gonna see some serious shit. — Doc Brown
On this day, forty years ago, July 3rd, 1985 the movie Back to the Future was released. While not as fundamental as Hackers or realistic as Sneakers, this movie worked its way into our pantheon. We thought it would be appropriate to commemorate this element of hacker culture on this day, its forty year anniversary.
If you just never got around to watching it, or if it has been a few decades since you did, then you might not recall that the movie is set in two periods. It opens in 1985 and then goes back to 1955. Most of the movie is set in 1955 with Marty trying to get back to 1985 — “back to the future”. The movie celebrates the advanced technology and fashions of 1985 and is all about how silly the technology and fashions of 1955 are as compared with the advancements of 1985. But now it’s the far future, the year 2025, and we thought we might take a look at some of the technology that was enchanting in 1985 but that turned out to be obsolete in “the future”, forty years on. Continue reading “Back To The Future, 40 Years Old, Looks Like The Past”→
Some time last year, a weird thing happened in the hackerspace where this is being written. The Internet was up, and was blisteringly fast as always, but only a few websites worked. What was up? Fortunately with more than one high-end networking specialist on hand it was quickly established that we had a problem with our gateway’s handling of IPv4 addresses, and normal service was restored. But what happens if you’re not a hackerspace with access to the dodgy piece of infrastructure and you’re left with only IPv6? [James McMurray] had this happen, and has written up how he fixed it.
His answer came in using a Wireguard tunnel to his VPS, and NAT mapping the IPv4 space into a section of IPv6 space. The write-up goes into extensive detail on the process should you need to follow his example, but for us there’s perhaps more interest in why here in 2025, the loss of IPv4 is still something that comes with the loss of half the Internet. As of this writing, that even includes Hackaday itself. If we had the magic means to talk to ourselves from a couple of decades ago our younger selves would probably be shocked by this.
Perhaps the answer lies in the inescapable conclusion that IPv6 answers an address space problem of concern to many in technical spaces, it neither solves anything of concern to most internet users, nor is worth the switch for so much infrastructure when mitigations such as NAT make the IPv4 address space problem less of a problem. Will we ever entirely lose IP4? We’d appreciate your views in the comments. For readers anxious for more it’s something we looked at last year.
Some time ago, Linus Torvalds made a throwaway comment that sent ripples through the Linux world. Was it perhaps time to abandon support for the now-ancient Intel 486? Developers had already abandoned the 386 in 2012, and Torvalds openly mused if the time was right to make further cuts for the benefit of modernity.
It would take three long years, but that eventuality finally came to pass. As of version 6.15, the Linux kernel will no longer support chips running the 80486 architecture, along with a gaggle of early “586” chips as well. It’s all down to some housekeeping and precise technical changes that will make the new code inoperable with the machines of the past.
Leica’s film cameras were hugely popular in the 20th century, and remain so with collectors to this day. [Michael Suguitan] has previously had great success converting his classic Leica into a digital one, and now he’s taken the project even further.
[Michael’s] previous work saw him create a so-called “digital back” for the Leica M2. He fitted the classic camera with a Raspberry Pi Zero and a small imaging sensor to effectively turn it into a digital camera, creating what he called the LeicaMPi. Since then, [Michael] has made a range of upgrades to create what he calls the LeicaM2Pi.
The upgrades start with the image sensor. This time around, instead of using a generic Raspberry Pi camera, he’s gone with the fancier ArduCam OwlSight sensor. Boasting a mighty 64 megapixels, it’s still largely compatible with all the same software tools as the first-party cameras, making it both capable and easy to use. With a crop factor of 3.7x, the camera’s Voigtlander 12mm lens has a much more useful field of view.
Unlike [Michael’s] previous setup, there was also no need to remove the camera’s IR filter to clear the shutter mechanism. This means the new camera is capable of taking natural color photos during the day. [Michael] also added a flash this time around, controlled by the GPIOs of the Raspberry Pi Zero. The camera also features a much tidier onboard battery via the PiSugar module, which can be easily recharged with a USB-C cable.
If you’ve ever thought about converting an old-school film camera into a digital shooter, [Michael’s] work might serve as a great jumping off point. We’ve seen it done with DSLRs, before, too! Video after the break.