You often learn the golden rule or some variation of it as early as kindergarten. There are several ways to phrase it, but you most often hear: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” While that’s catchy, it is really an aphorism that encourages us to consider the viewpoints of others. As people who design things, this can be tricky. Sometimes, what you want isn’t necessarily what most people want, and — conversely — you might not appreciate what most people want or need.
EDIT/1000
HP/1000 CC-BY-SA-3.0 by [Autopilot]I learned this lesson many years ago when I used to babysit a few HP/1000 minicomputers. Minicomputer sounds grand, but, honestly, a Raspberry Pi of any sort would put the old HP to shame. Like a lot of computers in those days, it had a text editor that was arcane even by the standards of vi or emacs. EDIT/1000 couldn’t be sure you weren’t using a printing terminal, and the commands reflect that.
For example, printing a few lines around the current line requires the command: “/-2,L,5” which isn’t that hard, I suppose. To delete all lines that contain a percent sign, “1$ D/%/A/” assuming you don’t want to be asked about each deletion.
Sure, sure. As a Hackaday reader, you don’t find this hard to puzzle out or remember. But back in the 1980s, a bunch of physicists and chemical engineers had little patience for stuff like that. However, the editor had a trick up its sleeve.
After previously working out a suitable approach to create a period-correct paper tape reader for his tube-based, MC14500B processor-inspired computer, [David Lovett] over at the Usagi Electric farm is back with a video on how he made a working tape reader.
The assembled paper tape reader as seen from the front with tape inserted. (Credit: David Lovett, Usage Electric, YouTube)
The tape reader’s purpose is to feed data into the tube-based computer, which for this computer system with its lack of storage memory means that the instructions are fed into the system directly, with the tape also providing the clock signal with a constant row of holes in the tape.
Starting the tape reader build, [David] opted to mill the structural part out of aluminum, which is where a lot of machining relearning takes place. Ultimately he got the parts machined to the paper design specs, with v-grooves for the photodiodes to fit into and a piece to clamp them down. On top of this is placed a part with holes that line up with the photodiodes.
Another alignment piece is added to hold the tape down on the reader while letting light through onto the tape via a slot. After a test assembly [David] was dismayed that due to tolerance issues he cracked two photodiodes within the v-groove clamp, which was a hard lesson with these expensive (and rare) photodiodes.
Although tolerances were somewhat off, [David] is confident that this aluminum machined reader will work once he has it mounted up. Feeding the tape is a problem that is still to be solved. [David] is looking for ideas and suggestions for a good approach within the limitations that he’s working with. At the video’s end, he mentions learning FreeCAD and 3D printing parts in the future. That would probably not be period-correct in this situation, but might be something he could get away with for some applications within the retrocomputing space.
We covered the first video and the thought process behind picking small (1.8 mm diameter) photodiodes as a period-correct tape hole sensor for a 1950s-era computing system, like the 1950s Bendix G-15 that [David] is currently restoring.
[Mike] from Leaded Solder has a soft spot for old computers, and a chance encounter with a friend sent them deep down the deep hole that is the world of 80s and 90s-era Japanese home computers. Many people playing with these machines have all kinds of issues to deal with, such as rotting cartridges, failing components, and just dirt and mank in critical places. [Mike] decided that working on an MSX-standard custom programmable cartridge would be sensible, but then got stuck on how the MSX cartridge mapping works.
The Konami 128K scheme uses 4 to 4-of-8 mapping.
You may recall that the MSX platform is not a single computer but a standard to which many (mainly Japanese) manufacturers designed their products. This disconnected the software writers from the hardware makers and is essentially a mirror of the IBM-PC clone scene.
The MSX is based around the Z80, which has a 16-bit address bus, restricting it to 64K of ROM or RAM. The MSX has two cartridge slots, an ‘internal’ slot for the BIOS and RAM and a fourth for ‘misc’ use. Each of these is mapped internally into the physical address space. The cartridge slots have 64K of addressable space mapped into the Z80 physical space.
If this was not complicated enough, many MSX games and applications exceeded this restriction and added a layer of mapping inside the cartridge using bank switching. A register in the cartridge could change the upper bits of the address allowing ROMs larger than 64K.
Unlike the today’s consumer computer market, the 1980s were the wild west in comparison. There were all kinds of different, incompatible operating systems, hardware, and programs, all competing against one another, and with essentially no networking to tie everything together. Some of these products were incredibly niche as well, only running one program or having a limited use case to keep costs down. Such was the Convergent WorkSlate, a computer that ran only a spreadsheet with any programs also needing to be built into a spreadsheet.
Upon booting the device, the user is presented with a fairly recognizable blank spreadsheet, albeit with a now-dated LCD display (lacking a backlight) and a bespoke keyboard and cursor that wouldn’t have allowed for easy touch typing. The spreadsheet itself is quite usable though, complete with formatting tools and the capability to use formulas like a modern spreadsheet program would. It also hosted a tape deck for audio and data storage, a modem for communicating with other devices, and an optional plotter-style printer. The modem port is how [Old VCR] eventually interfaces with the machine, although as one can imagine is quite a task for a piece of small-batch technology from the 80s like this. After learning how to send and receive information, a small game is programmed into the machine and then a Gopher interface is built to give the device limited Internet connectivity.
The investigation that [Old VCR] goes into on this project to get this obsolete yet unique piece of hardware running and programmed to do other tasks is impressive, and worth taking a look at especially because spreadsheets like this aren’t Turing-complete, leading to a few interesting phenomenon that most of us wouldn’t come across in the modern computing world. Since only around 60,000 units were ever made it’s difficult to come across these machines, but if you want to take a look at the spreadsheet world of the 80s without original hardware you can still run Lotus 1-2-3 natively in Linux today.
The Macintosh Plus is not exactly known as particularly relevant in the worlds of chiptune or electronic music more broadly. That’s not to say it can’t do anything that sounds cool, however. As [Action Retro] demonstrates, it’s got some really impressive tricks up its sleeve if you know what you’re doing.
The video centers around “Music Mouse”, a piece of software created by Laurie Spiegel for the Macintosh Plus all the way back in 1986. Spiegel saw the Macintosh Plus as a potential instrument for musical expression, with the then-innovative mouse as the key human interface.
[Action Retro] shows off the software, which is able to create rather pleasing little melodies with little more than a swish and a swash across the mousepad. The software makes smart use of scales so you’re not forever dodging around dissonant notes, so it’s quite easy to play something beautiful. He then makes things more interesting by pairing the Macintosh Plus with his favorite guitar pedal—the Old Blood Noise Endeavors Sunlight. It’s a dynamic reverb that really opens up the sonic landscape when paired with the Mac Plus. If you’re looking for a weird avant-garde setup to take on stage at your next noise show, this has to be it.
We’re usually used to seeing Nintendo and Commodore products in the retro computer music space. The Mac makes a nice change. Video after the break.
You might think that TV stations or production houses would be great at archiving, but it’s not always the case. Particularly from the public access perspective. However, if you’re a fan of The Famous Computer Cafe, you’re in luck! The beloved series has now been preserved on The Internet Archive!
If you’re not familiar with the show, it was a radio program broadcast from 1983 to 1986. It was pumped out of a variety of radio stations in southern and central California in the period. The creators making sure to keep a copy of each episode in reel-to-reel tape format. For years, these tapes were tragically lost, until archivist [Kay Savetz] was able to recover some of them from a recent property sale. From there, a GoFundMe paid for digitization, and the show has been placed on The Internet Archive with the blessings of the original creators.
This is quite the cultural victory, particularly when you observe the list of guests on the show. Timothy Leary, Bill Gates, Jack Tramiel, and even Douglas Adams made appearances in the recovered recordings. Sadly, though, not all the tapes have been recovered. Episodes with Gene Roddenberry, Robert Moog, and Ray Bradbury are still lost to time.
If you fancy a listen, 53 episodes presently exist on the archive. Take a trip back in time and hear from some technological visionaries—and futurists—speaking their minds at the very beginning of the microcomputer era! If you find any particularly salient gems, don’t hesitate to drop them on the tip line.
For those of us who lived through the early 8-bit computing revolution — the tail end, in our case — it’s hard to believe that there’s a second wave of retrocomputing nostalgia underway. But as this bit-banged TRS-80 birthday bonus pack shows, the first generation did a pretty good job passing the retro torch.
With his father’s 70th birthday coming up and full of “borrowed nostalgia” for the good old days, [Josh Sucher] scored a TRS-80 off eBay and experimented with what could be possible. After 50-odd years, the machine needed a bit of TLC, including a new power supply, some keyboard repairs, and the usual recapping. He also had to soup the machine up a bit, given that its original capabilities were so limited.
Chief among these mods was a rudimentary IP stack thanks to a TRS-IO card, which emulates a lot of functionality of the original TRS-80 Expansion Module and adds an ESP-32 for WiFi capability. This allowed [Josh] to get a neat “Dadbot” chatbot going on the machine, using years of his dad’s text messages to train the model. There’s also a game of Go, an RPG based on his parents’ lives, and a local news and weather app. Most impressive, though, is the bit-banged audio app that uses the TRS-80’s cassette interface to play a passable rendition of “Happy Birthday to You.” The video below has the full demo.
It’s clear that this lengthy project was a labor of love, and we approve of the results. It’s been a long, long time since we first caught wind of the TRS-80 through the Radio Shack catalog, and projects like this make us feel like scratching up one for ourselves to play with.
