#oneaday Day 640: I hate 2026

I am tired and frustrated. This is nothing new, of course, but I am feeling it particularly keenly today. I can't go into the specifics for reasons that are probably obvious, but as an attempt to vent at least a little bit of the fury festering inside my spleen, I am going to vaguepost my way through this.

I learned today that something I had been looking forward to happening — which would be a good thing for me, and particularly for my mental health — might not be happening, through no fault of my own, and through no fault of the person who was organising this Thing. Instead, the blame can be placed squarely (albeit slightly indirectly, removed by a degree of, like, one or two) at the feet of the perpetual garbage fire that is the tech industry in the mid 2020s — specifically, the chip shortages caused by all the AI crap.

Every so often I see an AI booster wanking on about how much more "productive" AI has made them, and I do stop to question if I've got things right. And the answer is inevitably "yes"; every time I ask this question I find myself feeling more and more resolute in my absolute, complete and utter distaste for AI and what it is doing to the tech industry — and, more broadly, what it is doing to anyone who wants to do anything that isn't AI-related in the tech space.

It's just the latest in a long line of examples of people and organisations with a lot of money and influence taking everything that other people might need, and making (supposed) use of it for something that no-one actually wants — and which causes knock-on effects on multiple steps down the "ladder". The really galling thing about this all is that it's arguably not even organisations with a lot of real money; the seemingly daily billion-dollar deals that are being bandied around are all being done with money that doesn't actually exist, that has no intention of existing, and which will never exist as anything other than a means of making the worldwide economy collapse completely.

I can go to the shop these days and get a few snacky bits and it'll be £50 or more. I shudder to think what the current Happenings are doing to petrol prices. And, of course, it's getting near-impossible to buy anything even vaguely related to computer memory or storage for what one might call a "reasonable" price. Not all of these are directly and specifically related to AI, of course, but they do all relate to how the economy is utterly fucked as a result of everything that has been happening for the last few years.

And of course it's selfish for me to speak up about this stuff because it's something in my life that is being specifically affected by it — but regular readers will know that I have been pretty staunchly opposed to All This Bullshit long before the still-vagueposted news that I had today.

I'm just so tired. When I was young, I thought there was a point you'd get to in your adult life where everything was just sort of sorted and you could get on with living and enjoying your life. I feel like my parents had that. (They might disagree. But it's the impression I got.) But no-one living through this horrible, horrible time in existence is getting any degree of peace, because everyone is being affected by the absolute worst pieces of shit in the world to varying degrees.

I'm tired of it. So very tired. And I wish there was an easy way to make it go away.

Want to read my thoughts on various video games, visual novels and other popular culture things? Stop by MoeGamer.net, my site for all things fun where I am generally a lot more cheerful. And if you fancy watching some vids on classic games, drop by my YouTube channel.

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#oneaday Day 614: Can you hear us, sketching on your telephone

I finally bit the bullet and upgraded my smartphone recently. The USB-C port in my trusty Samsung Galaxy S-something was being rather unreliable, and I was getting fed up with it. I wasn't particularly enthusiastic about upgrading, though, because every single phone on offer appeared to be festooned with unwanted "AI" features.

I plumped for the Samsung Galaxy S25 Ultra, because my provider had a good offer on it, and I thought I might as well take advantage of it. It's an absolute beast of a phone size and weight-wise, which I rather like — but one thing I didn't know about it before I got hold of it was the fact it comes with an "S-pen" stylus.

This makes me quite happy, because I have fond memories of using Palm personal organisers with a stylus and resistive touchscreen, and I've always felt using your sweaty, greasy fingers is suboptimal compared to the precision one can get from a stylus.

One mild annoyance I have discovered with the stylus is that MagSafe accessories interfere with it, so if you have something like a magnetic PopSocket on the back, it fucks with the stylus. This is irritating, but not an insurmountable obstacle; the thing with a MagSafe PopSocket is that it's a lot easier to remove and put back on again compared to an adhesive one, so it's relatively little hassle to just remove the PopSocket when I want to use the pen, then stick it back on afterwards. But I digress.

I thought today I'd experiment with using the pen to draw something using the mobile version of Clip Studio Paint. And the results are… well, a bit cack-handed, as you can see above, but I can definitely see potential there. I've learned something from this brief little doodle, which is that if you're sketching on a phone, for heaven's sake zoom in and do a little bit at a time rather than trying to do the whole thing at once.

Imprecisions aside, though, I was actually quite pleased with the S-pen's performance for doodling, and the mobile version of Clip Studio Paint seems quite good. It's an annoying subscription-based app, because of course it is, but you can use it for up to 30 hours a month for free without ads. I strongly suspect I won't hit that limit, but I guess we'll see! I will continue to experiment with both the S-pen and the tablet I got for Christmas, and see where things go from there.

The phone in general seems pretty good for the most part. The screen is lovely, the speakers are surprisingly good and the cameras are excellent. I just wish it didn't bug you to "do more with AI!" when attempting to do something simple like make a note. No, black rectangle of doom, I do not need you to "summarise" my notes. The very point of making notes is already a summary of what to think about later. Nor do I need you to turn a doodle into something that is not a doodle. Fuck off and leave me alone and we'll get along just fine.

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#oneaday Day 612: Cleaning up the filth

I spent a goodly portion of this evening cleaning up my Google Photos library, because, frankly, it's been a right mess for years. It still is a right mess, but at least I have got ~~all~~ most of the hentai out of it now.

How did it get into this state, I hear you ask? Well, it's partly my fault, partly the fault of software. It's my fault because I didn't think to change the settings on various pieces of software, including the Google Drive and Photos apps for PC and my various phones' operating systems, and it's the software's fault for, by default, backing up images from every folder on my devices instead of just ones that make sense — like, you know, the camera roll. Lesson learned. Always check if your phone is "syncing" things you don't want it to!

In other words, what had happened is that, on numerous occasions, I had downloaded a dirty picture or ten that I found invigorating, and Google Photos had dutifully backed this up, despite me not actually wanting it to do that. So every so often, when scrolling back through the archives, I would inadvertently stumble across some absolute filth that probably shouldn't be in there. Nothing illegal, I should probably point out, but still not the sort of thing you want to accidentally appear on your screen when you're looking for a picture of your dearly departed cat or what your living room used to look like and attempting to show someone.

The most egregious offender actually wasn't explicitly offensive at all, but it was still taking up a lot of my library. Evidently at some point I had downloaded an archive of all the card art from the Senran Kagura mobile game — I wasn't going to play it, but I liked the art — and, again, Google Photos had dutifully backed this up despite me not actually wanting it to.

Unfortunately, the images from the Senran Kagura mobile game had all sorts of timestamps on them, so I would find them scattered randomly throughout actual photos I wanted to keep over the course of several years in my library's timeline. Towards the earlier years, there was a big lump of them all together though — it felt good to sweep all those into the trash.

I'm not doing this out of any sort of prudishness or anything — I still love some fine anime tiddies, after all — but more out of a desire to make Google Photos a bit more useful as an image archive, since there are myriad other options for getting one's hands on grotty pictures. It's already got a lot of screenshots in there as well as actual photographs, though I'm fine with that — it means that if I want to grab a screenshot of a game I played 10 years ago, I probably can — I just didn't want it full of images that I'd just downloaded for the sake of it. That includes silly memes and screengrabs of Twitter posts, also; any arguments those screenshots were intended to "win" are inevitably long gone, and life is too short to give a shit about what people I used to think were assholes are up to today. There's enough assholes in the present, thank you very much.

Anyway, I think I got most of the filth. I'm sure I will continue to find random little bits and pieces here and there, but at least now it will be more like a little treat and a surprise rather than "good Lord, most of 2016 appears to consist of anime women in provocative poses and Kirino from Oreimo with a massive cock".

That's it. That's the post for today. I'm off to play some Wolfenstein.

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#oneaday Day 592: Abstinence from AI

I, as I may have made clear on a few separate occasions on these hallowed pages, fucking hate generative AI. I do not use it. I do not need to use it. I do not want to use it. And I cannot wait for the whole bubble to pop and this whole shitshow to go the way of the NFT and the Metaverse.

In the last few weeks in particular, I've found that there are a lot more people seemingly trying to push AI as "sort of all right, really". You know the sort of thing, people just casually, jokingly drop into a Discord chat that "out of curiosity, [they] threw it into Gemini to see what would happen" and before you know it, all meaningful human conversation has been replaced with copy-pasted obsequious fawning over the prompter, bold-type section headers and bullet-pointed lists.

Not only that, but the press are at it, too; just today, Undark Magazine (which I've never heard of prior to today) posted a piece called "Abstinence from AI is Not the Answer", in which the authors, C. Brandon Ogbunu and Cristopher Moore, make the baffling assertion that refusing to engage with AI "puts vulnerable people at risk".

"Like many new technologies," they write, "AI can either amplify inequality or ameliorate it, depending on how it is deployed. And fears about the likelihood of it amplifying stratification and segregation are valid. But advocating for abstinence will deny communities access to the tools the privileged are already using to help them write college essays, do their homework problems and learn a second language. Puritanical stances leave people ill-equipped to use this technology responsibly and unable to benefit from it."

Okay, but… hear me out… generative AI is terrible at all of those things. AI writing can be spotted a mile off. It gets answers to basic problems wrong, making it useless for homework. Due to its propensity to hallucinate and fawn over the user, you can't necessarily guarantee that its use of a non-English language is correct, nor that it will correct you if you get something wrong. And, more importantly than all of those things, relying on generative AI to do any of those things strips you of the ability to do them yourself. Not only that, it kills your curiosity to learn and discover new things for yourself, because it's much easier to just ask the chatbot to do it for you rather than to put in the work to learn a new skill yourself.

It's this latter part that really concerns me about generative AI. I've seen so many people willingly hand off to a chatbot during normal discussions and arguments and think that's a shortcut to "winning". When our legal and medical professionals are caught using these unflinchingly awful tools, their own skills and knowledge atrophy because they have no need to retain them — the chatbot will do all the hard work for them.

And what happens when, as looks increasingly likely, the money runs out and all these monumentally wasteful services are no longer able to operate? We're going to need humans who can actually do stuff again. And I'm concerned we're going to struggle to find them, because just over the course of the last couple of years I've seen a frightening amount of people completely give up on seeking out reliable information, knowledge and training for themselves because they can just ask the chatbot.

To address Ogbunu and Moore's main point — that abstinence from generative AI puts vulnerable people at risk — I say, full-throatedly, bollocks. The Internet has been a constant presence in all our lives — whether we're privileged or vulnerable — for decades at this point, to such a degree that it is considered one of the basic utilities these days. It is rammed full of helpful, thoughtful, weird and wonderful information, and the only skill one needs to cultivate in order to take advantage of this is how to determine whether or not something is a reputable source. That is something that we learn to do in school — or we should learn how to do, anyway.

If you hand that job over to a chatbot which is demonstrably wrong a statistically significant amount of times you ask it a question, you are not making use of that skill. That is not democratising the delivery of information; it is filtering all that information through a technology that, at its core, has been designed only with the interests of its billionaire owners in mind. And not only that, to get the supposed "best" out of these chatbots, you're expected to pony up $200 or more a month for a subscription. That doesn't sound very inclusive to the most vulnerable of society.

"Choices we make now will determine whether AI will be a tool for the powerful, dazzling the rest of us with its hype and subjecting us to its harms, or whether it will be a tool — imperfect but useful — in everyone's hands," conclude Ogbunu and Moore.

If it's an imperfect tool, it's not useful. I repeat: I do not use it; I do not need to use it; I do not want to use it. My choice is made; if I see anyone "powerful" using generative AI, I will laugh at them, because they are depriving themselves of the joy of thinking, of learning, of discovering, of creating. And then I will pity them.

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#oneaday Day 533: Enshittified parking

The wife and I made the silly error of deciding to go into town today. We thought we'd go get a Currywurst from the German market, plus she wanted to enquire at a music shop about some various bits and pieces.

We were having second thoughts when we got up, because it was dark, miserable and raining outside, but we thought "ah, no, we should go out, it'll do us good to get out of the house".

Reader, it was not good. Apart from the Currywurst, that was good. Although £9 for it was absolute daylight robbery, but I guess that is Just What Things Cost Now. And my wife did at least get the information she wanted from the music shop.

The rest of the trip was a miserable, rain-soaked experience, but probably the most irritating thing about the whole experience was what they've done to WestQuay parking. Instead of taking the tried-and-true approach of giving you a ticket, then you popping said ticket into a machine and paying for how long you spent in the car park, they have decided to make it all "technological", now requiring you to have your number plate scanned by ANPR when you enter, then before you leave, you have to remember to scan a QR code from a poster and pay on a website. Because that is somehow much better.

I will grant you that during busy periods, it could be frustrating to have to queue up for a ticket machine when you wanted to leave. It was frustrating when the ticket machine broke, too, or it ate your ticket, or any other shenanigans that might have occurred. But that's why they had the little man on the end of the "help" button to help you out.

The main issue with the "pay by phone" option they have chosen to go with is that there is no fucking phone signal inside the car park. Nor is there any Wi-Fi. So if you forget to scan one of the posters that is outside on the way back to the car park — or, indeed, if you took a route back to the car park that did not pass by one of these posters — it's an incredible pain in the arse to do something as simple as paying for parking, something which we have all been begrudgingly doing for many years at this point.

Of course, the whole thing has almost certainly been done in the name of collecting data on people who use the car park — they take your number plate when you enter and your name when you pay, so that's fun. They will probably try and spin this as somehow being "more convenient" when in fact it's several orders of magnitude more annoying than the old way of doing things.

But hey. We've made everything else worse with technology. Why should parking be left out of the party?

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#oneaday Day 522: Bravo Eurogamer

Just recently, Eurogamer published a review of Arc Raiders, the latest multiplayer craze, and ruffled more than a few feathers when the reviewer, Rick Lane, dinged the game with a 2/5 star rating, primarily due to the game's apparent use of generative AI to create many of its voice lines. The developer, Embark Studios, has form in this area, with its previous title, The Finals, also featuring AI-generated voice lines.

The reviewer's justification for giving the game such a low score was not simply "AI bad" — it was because, from an artistic perspective, getting a soulless robot to voice the human characters in your game that is about robots who have taken over the world and forced humanity underground feels just a little too incongruous to be able to pass without comment.

And I agree. I also firmly, strongly and resolutely believe that the use of generative AI in video game development is an obnoxious, odious, wasteful, exploitative and ethically reprehensible practice — and I have a firm policy that I will absolutely not engage with a game that appears to have been tainted with generative AI garbage. It's why I didn't play The Alters, it's why I haven't played the latest Everybody's Golf, and it's why I won't touch Arc Raiders. (In the latter case, it's also because I suspect I won't like Arc Raiders, but that's beside the point right now.)

I've been disappointed at quite how many people I've seen handwaving away this aspect of Arc Raiders in particular. Indeed, the Eurogamer review has a comments section that is at least as much of a trash fire as you would expect, because Video Game Good, and you're not allowed to take a firm ethical stance about something in a review because then the Gamers™, the good little consumer piggies that they are, will get mad that you said their Favourite Forever Game This Week was perhaps not to your taste for a perfectly valid reason.

The unfortunate thing with Arc Raiders is that its use of AI and machine learning (which are different things) is a bit shrouded in uncertainty right now. Some folks say that its generated voice lines are fine because it's actually just a fancy text-to-speech system; some folks are taking this argument further in order to weaponise disabled people and accessibility features; some are saying that it's fine because the actors the voices were trained on were aware of what they were signing up for.

But regardless of whether or not Arc Raiders' voices were generated by supposedly consenting voice actors, or if they were the product of the more environmentally disastrous end of generative AI, the entire thing rubs me the wrong way. The really stupid thing is that the generated voices in Arc Raiders are for things that voice actors could have very reasonably just recorded — things like vendors, NPCs and suchlike — and Embark's justification for using generated voices is that it's "quicker". On top of that, the results are markedly, obviously inferior to using an actual voice actor recording the complete lines, so one has to question if cutting corners in this way is really worth it.

Embark's not a small, frugal indie company, either. They have the resources to be able to afford voice actors to do a proper job. They're just refusing to. And regardless of the tech that produces the not-very-good end result, it sets a poor precedent to do that.

The arguments in favour of generated voices aren't very convincing, either. The most common one that comes up is that "one day we'll have games where every NPC conversation will be AI-generated, and you'll be able to talk to them about anything!" And to that I say: I absolutely do not want that.

When I'm playing a game that has characters in it, a narrative, a setting, all that stuff — I want to experience the vision of the creators. I want to enjoy something that someone else has created, with a clear vision and purpose behind it. I want to be able to reflect on the way a writer composed a piece of dialogue; how a character's mannerisms tell us more about them; how the tone of the whole piece gives a feeling of coherence to the game as a complete creative work.

If you're AI-generating your dialogue, you get none of that. You get a hodgepodge, incoherent mess that is easily exploitable — and, indeed, we've already seen that numerous times already, whether it's Darth Vader saying fuck or a character in the latest HoyoVerse game apparently having no idea who they are, what their background is, what their personality is or what is around them.

I refuse to accept the "genie is out of the bottle" argument. We've been making video games for 50+ years at this point, and the reason the medium has continued to endure is because of human creativity. We have seen incredible advancements in storytelling, mechanics and the overall craft of making all manner of different games over the years — and the AI glazers seem to want nothing more than to just throw all that experience away in favour of some "vibe coded" garbage with AI-generated dialogue and synthesised speech.

Couple that with the fact that AI is insanely wasteful, growing increasingly likely to make the worldwide economy crash, disastrous for the environment and taking valuable resources away from doing things that might actually make life better for people who really need it to be better? Nah. Don't need it. Don't want it. And will not support anything made with it, no matter how much you argue "no no no, but this is a good use of it, actually."

I say bravo to Rick Lane of Eurogamer for having the balls to stand up and say "no" to this garbage with a thoughtful and well-considered critique. If only we could see a bit more of that kind of thing, and less of this sort of rubbish.

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#oneaday Day 510: Another great Eddy Burback video

There's a lot of absolute garbage on YouTube, but there are a few folks out there who do some truly special work. One of those people is Eddy Burback, who makes maybe two or three videos a year, but they're always very high quality, both in technical terms and in terms of the amount of research that goes into them. You may recall a while back I was rather taken by his video about giving up the smartphone life.

Today, he put out a new video called "ChatGPT made me delusional", and I sincerely recommend you set aside an hour or so of your life to watch it through in its entirety. Not skip through it at 1.5x speed, not "have it on in the background". Watch it. Because I think it is important.

Here it is:

Burback's aim for the video was to understand the phenomenon of "chatbot-induced psychosis" or "AI psychosis". This is where vulnerable people, already struggling with matters of mental health, would turn to large language model chatbots such as ChatGPT and use them as a form of "therapy" or as a substitute for actual human contact. There have already been some incredibly tragic results, as anyone who has ever read any science fiction would have been able to predict a mile off.

To explore how this might happen, Burback presented ChatGPT with an obviously ridiculous hypothesis based on complete fabrications: that he was the smartest under-1 baby of 1997, capable of producing great works of art, having in-depth philosophical discussions and demonstrating a deep understanding of complex mathematics. It took him two statements to convince the chatbot that this was the undeniable truth, and things just escalated from there.

Burback presented the chatbot with suggestions that his friends and family might not understand his brilliance, and it recommended he flee into the middle of nowhere and break all contact with them, including stopping sharing his location data with the person he trusts most in the world: his twin brother. He continued feeding the chatbot with increasingly ridiculous, obviously delusional statements and deliberate, complete and utter nonsense, and at no point did it attempt to deter him from the path it had set him on.

It was only at one point — the day when OpenAI controversially swapped its "4o" model for GPT-5 — that the chatbot had a momentary blip in feeding into his "delusions" (and, to its credit, suggested some psychological help facilities in the neighbourhood), but Burback pointed out that it was very easy for someone who was paying for the service to just switch it back to the old model, which seemingly finds it impossible to say "no" to the user.

What was particularly eerie about the whole situation is that Burback was using the premium voice feature on ChatGPT, which has clearly been designed to sound as "human" as possible, even going so far as to add realistic inflections and non-fluency features to the things it is saying. (It also pronounces emojis as completely unrelated sound effects, which somewhat detracts from the "humanity" of it all, but still.) In other words, it wasn't hard to see how someone suffering from real, genuine mental health problems might feel like they really did have a person in their phone who was willing to listen to them, tell them they were always right, and repeatedly give them some really, really bad advice.

It was actually kind of horrifying. The way the bot continually escalated into increasingly outlandish behaviour — culminating in him chanting mantras under an electricity pylon, wrapping his entire apartment in tin foil and tattooing a symbol into his thigh — was genuinely frightening.

I know we can all have a good laugh about how the chatbots get things wrong sometimes, but Burback's research here demonstrates that it doesn't just get things wrong (and I apologise for using this sentence construction, given its indelible association with AI writing, but it's an established turn of phrase for a reason) — it offers genuinely dangerous advice with minimal guardrails in place. And it does so without thinking about it or understanding why it might be dangerous — because it's not actually thinking or understanding anything at all. It's constructing sentences that, based on the data it has Hoovered up from across the Internet, it thinks are the correct responses to the things the user has been typing. It is, in essence, an extremely advanced version of the old ELIZA program on classic computers.

And it can go fuck itself.

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#oneaday Day 483: I regret buying an expensive keyboard and mouse

A while back — probably a few years back at this point — I discovered the joy of a mechanical keyboard and a good quality mouse. Actually, it's probably more accurate to say I rediscovered it; growing up, after the Atari ST, we had a couple of "proper" IBM PCs, complete with Model M keyboard, and I have fond memories both of using that keyboard and of being able to hear it all the way downstairs when my Dad was typing on it upstairs.

But yeah; I started with a relatively cheap "Tecknet" wired mechanical keyboard and liked the feel and sound of that, so a little while later I decided to spend a bit of money and treat myself to some pricier models: specifically, a Razer Blackwidow V3 Pro keyboard and a Razer Basilisk X Hyperspeed mouse. I chose the Blackwidow V3 Pro specifically because it was a mechanical keyboard that was also wireless — for a while, that was a hard combination to find — and the Basilisk X Hyperspeed because it seemed to be decent without being overcomplicated.

I regret my purchases.

Not because either of them are unusably bad or anything, but because both of them have just enough little annoyances about them to make me wish I'd just stuck with the cheaper kit I was using before — or going with another manufacturer. Razer is very much the basic bitch of PC pimping — although I will say their Kiyo X webcam is genuinely excellent, and I have absolutely no regrets there.

Let's start with the names. If I hadn't told you the Blackwidow was a keyboard and the Basilisk was a mouse, would you have been able to determine which was which? I still have to look it up every time, which is very unhelpful when Razer's software (we'll get onto that in a moment, believe me) informs me that the battery is low on one of them. It doesn't have a helpful little icon showing whether it's the keyboard or mouse; it just says the battery is low in the Blackwidow or the Basilisk. And I'm fucked if I can remember which is which. (Although writing this blog is, annoyingly enough, probably going to help me remember.)

Okay. So the Blackwidow. It's a nice keyboard — feels nice to type on, makes a nice clicky sound when you do so. But it has an eminently stupid design that causes it to get filthier than any keyboard I've ever used. Rather than having the keys in a slightly recessed cutout from the main body of the keyboard, which is easy enough to clean if you take all the keys off and then Hoover it or something, the keys "float" slightly above the keyboard case, which is otherwise solid. This means all manner of disgusting crap gets caught in between and beneath the keys within about five seconds of you starting to use it, and cleaning it seems woefully ineffective because immediately after doing so, it attracts filth again.

Possibly related to the perpetually filthy status is the fact that the volume knob on the top right of the keyboard is a real roll of the dice on whether or not it'll actually do what you want it to do. A significant portion of the time, it will do the exact opposite of what you are indicating you would like it to do, and sometimes it will just judder back and forth between two values. The particularly annoying thing about it is that I generally don't use it to adjust the volume, so any time I have to use it, it is because I have knocked it accidentally. And on multiple occasions it has taken several minutes to revert it to 100% after it had dropped to just 80% or so.

The Blackwidow has the obligatory RGB lighting that everything vaguely "premium" has to have on PCs these days, and this is all very nice, apart from the inexplicable fact that the hash key refuses to light up when the keyboard is in wireless mode. It's not broken, because it lights up when the keyboard is connected via USB, and it's not a faulty profile, because I've tried changing the profile and even setting the options for that key individually. It's just… fucked somehow in a non-mechanical way. And it's little annoyances like that which make you realise how surprisingly often you want to use the hash key in the dark.

Speaking of wired versus wireless, I discovered a while back that the keyboard will not charge its battery unless the Razer software is installed. This was something of a problem when I determined that the Razer software was causing my PC to freeze up. (It transpires that something else was wrong on a deeper level, because a complete reformat and Windows reinstall fixed the freezes, but still.) It's also just fucking stupid. What other USB device does not charge unless you are running a specific piece of software? One of the main benefits of USB is that you can just plug a thing into a socket and it charges, even if the computer doesn't know how to talk to the device otherwise. But no! Not the case with the Razer Blackwidow V3 Pro. So pro that it can't handle charging without its special software to hold its hand. Real fearsome.

Now, onto the Basilisk, which I think I hate significantly more than the Blackwidow, which at least is 98% reliably functional, wireless hash key aside. I have never had as many connectivity problems with a wireless mouse as I have done with the Basilisk. I don't sit an unreasonable distance away from my computer — basically the computer is under my TV, and the keyboard and mouse are on a coffee table in front of the sofa — but this goddamn thing will not stay connected if there is any form of obstacle in its path. And I mean anything. Put a box of biscuits in front of it so you can stuff your face while idly browsing YouTube? Flashy light, lost connection. Put a glass of drink vaguely in front of it for mid-game refreshment? Flashy light, lost connection. Put a discarded lunch plate on the table near it because you'll take it to the kitchen the next time you stand up? Flashy light, lost connection.

It's annoying, because other than this fairly glaring issue, the Basilisk is a nice mouse. It has a good, comfortable shape, nicely clicky buttons and a scroll wheel that, so far, does not appear to have suffered the same fate as the volume control on the Blackwidow — or, indeed, the fate every single Apple mouse I have used has succumbed to. You can actually scroll with it, in other words. It has a couple of side buttons that default to forward/back buttons when web browsing, but I don't really use them. As a basic mouse, it's comfortable, and were it not for the connectivity issues, I would like it a lot. Unfortunately, the connectivity issues happen frequently enough for it to be massively irritating.

"So just replace them!" you might say. "Reader, I spent £250 on the pair of them," I will reply. "I am going to at least attempt to get my money's worth."

And then, sotto voce, "And then never spend that much on a keyboard and mouse ever again."

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#oneaday Day 474: Archiving with mixed results

My 5.25" floppy drive and power source came today, so I've been tinkering this evening attempting to image some Atari 8-bit disks from the big boxes I have buried in a cupboard upstairs.

After a few frightening mechanical noises and some initial frustrations — the most annoying of which by far was discovering I had the floppy drive cable inserted into the Greaseweazle the wrong way around, causing the drive to perpetually spin and never actually read anything — I got the setup up and running, and successfully ripped a couple of disks, initially to the "raw flux" .scp format, and then converted them to the more commonly used (for emulators, MiSTer and suchlike) .atr.

(For future reference, Atari disks are 40 tracks, meaning you need to set Greaseweazle to read cylinders 0-34 and 35-39. I don't know the technicalities behind this, but it worked.)

My initial success was reassuring, but I had a number of failures after that. I think some of these disks may be beyond help — and frustratingly, so far it appears to be the disks with more "personal" contents.

I attempted to rip a disk that had some of my brother's early BASIC programming experiments on it (including a simple multi-choice adventure game called Treasures of Crylos that I remember being rather fond of), but the disk barely registered as having any contents at all when I attempted to rip it.

I had a little more success with "Pete's Disk 1", which was a SpartaDOS X-formatted double-density disk, so a bit of an unusual edge case. The disk seemingly ripped successfully, and loading it into an emulator with SpartaDOS X installed allowed me to view the disk directory, but I was unable to actually load and run anything from the disk. So close! So very close. Also man, SpartaDOS X could fit a hell of a lot of stuff on one floppy disk. No wonder my Dad set me up with it for my personal disks rather than trusty old DOS 2.5. You can squeeze a lot more on when your file sizes are measured in bytes rather than sectors.

Other successes I had included what we colloquially referred to as "The Dutch Demo", a multi-part graphics and sound demo that is, unsurprisingly, Dutch (and I don't think I've ever seen archived anywhere online, so I will be sharing that at some point); Red Rat's Technicolour Dream Demo, which is a slideshow of pictures produced with the software in question, which supported considerably higher colour depth than the Atari was "supposed" to support; and a couple of disks of collected games.

I haven't started ripping and organising in any great depth yet, but I would like to rip as many of these as I can, then archive them somewhere online. While most of the software on these disks is archived via other means elsewhere around the Internet, it's the little things, like the menu systems used to collect these games together, and the specific combination of things on each disk, which is unique to my own computing history — and something that I'm keen to preserve if at all possible.

I don't know how many of these disks are going to be salvageable. I'm already seeing that some brands of disk have much better longevity than others — thus far, Radio Shack and Verbatim's disks have had the highest success rate, with Wabash being the worst — so it will be interesting to find out exactly how much I might be able to recover and (re)discover throughout this process.

I'm done for the evening, though. Back to it on Friday, since tomorrow is a Work Trip. A fun Work Trip, but still one I have to get up early and catch a train for, so I better get some sleep.

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#oneaday Day 469: Where have all the 5.25" drives gone?

Earlier today, I had an idle thought that has occurred to me numerous times over the last little while, but today I thought I'd look into actually doing something about it.

A while back, I bought a Greaseweazle, which is a USB device you can connect to a modern PC at one end and a floppy disk drive at the other, then "rip" floppies using a particularly accurate method of imaging known as flux imaging. These images can then be converted into various formats, such as those commonly used with emulators (or MiSTer), and can then be safely archived.

I've got two boxes of 5.25" Atari 8-bit disks in my cupboard upstairs that I'd quite like to get all the stuff off — assuming the discs themselves have survived. I know some of them have (and, equally, some appear to have not) and so I thought it would be a nice, interesting and fun thing to do to archive my unique collection of disks, which in some respects are a snapshot of family life in the mid 1980s.

Besides the obvious disks full of pirated games, my brother and I both had our own disks that we'd save BASIC programs to — both those that we'd typed in from magazines, and those which we'd written ourselves. Then there's a bunch of disks that my Mum and Dad did stuff with — my Dad did all manner of things, including writing, music and various productivity things (that and Flight Simulator II, which "isn't a game") while my Mum, on several occasions, spent some time writing. My brother made pictures with AtariArtist. And I'm sure there are plenty of other hidden treasures among them, too.

Now, here's the problem. I bought the Greaseweazle with a mind to making some floppy disks that could be used with the Atari ST, which uses 3.5" 360K or 720K disks. (Actually, Atari format can push the 800K+ mark, but they're broadly MS-DOS compatible, so 720K is a sensible limit for everyday use.) The device worked great for that, though I ultimately got an UltraSatan for the ST (which is an SD card-based storage solution that effectively emulates a hard drive) and have now moved on to the MiSTer for most of my retro computing needs and wants.

I'd been putting off getting a 5.25" drive to archive these big boxes of Atari stuff, though. I knew the process of getting a 5.25" drive hooked up was a little more involved, for one thing, since a 3.5" floppy drive can power itself from the Greaseweazle, while a 5.25" drive generally needs an external power source. But something in me today said "right, go on, get this sorted". So I headed for eBay in search of what I thought would be an easy thing to find: an old, discarded but working 5.25" floppy disk drive that someone had grabbed out of an obsolete PC and decided to sell online.

Reader, it turns out that 5.25" drives are not, in fact, easy to find. In fact, there seem to be very few floating around out there, and the ones that are are surprisingly expensive. While you can score yourself a 3.5" drive very easily — and it probably be in decent working order, too — 5.25" drives are, apparently, like gold dust.

I did find one promising looking unit earlier, which was actually a self-contained enclosure with a power supply and two 5.25" floppy drives, but after bidding on it a few times, the price went a little higher than I was comfortable paying, so I dropped out. (Also, I was having dinner at the time the auction ended, so I kind of sort of forgot to check in.) The final price was over £80, though, which would have probably given me a certain degree of buyer's remorse. Or maybe not. I guess now we'll never know.

I'll keep keeping an eye out for reasonably priced drives, though. I really would like to get those disks archived and share them with my family — it's something I probably should have done a long time ago (before 5.25" drives went completely extinct, apparently) but I guess it's going to be a bit of effort to get up and running!

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