HN user
Also, Nixie Tubes were absolutely not “tiny.” Typically, they were about the same size as a vacuum tube you’d find in the back of your radio or TV. They were universally used on electronic equipment; less so on consumer devices.
Nope, that would be Michael Plass (thesis title: "Optimal pagination techniques for automatic typesetting systems," though his line-breaking work is what showed up in TeX) and Frank Liang ("Word Hy-phen-a-tion by Com-put-er"). I wasn't there yet.
Metafont users can specify point size, boldness, slant, and whatever other parameters they choose (plus device-specific info like resolution) that can then be used in the simultaneous equations that determine the coordinates of critical points and shapes of pens used to draw the characters. So, for the smaller-font issue, the width of the pen may be a non-linear function of the font point size; ditto for the x-height, etc. In Metafont, it's the responsibility of the font designer / coder to handle it all; there's no automated algorithmic monkeying with the pixels other than what you write. This all becomes much clearer with a perusal of The METAFONTbook.
Earlier additional great info from svat (and ramblings by me) are at https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=20006525
One point concerning Metafont and Computer Modern (and TeX): A key overall goal of the whole kit and caboodle is that a document written in TeX and using the default fonts would produce exactly the same output on all capable computers and output devices, indefinitely into the future, with the same line breaks, page breaks, character shapes, etc. And in fact TeX files from over half a century ago still produce pixel-perfect results.
This requirement meant that the default fonts had to be portable between printers and typesetters with various resolutions (and other optical filtering attributes). There was simply no other way at the time to accomplish this than using a tool like Metafont to author a home-grown font family like Computer Modern (and even then it was a bit of a hope and a prayer).
And don't even get me started on how 5pt super-super-scripts aren't just 10pt characters scaled down by half, contrary to how post-hot-lead typesetters operated, and not fully addressed commercially until decades later.
Not so about the Linotype. Back in 1980, I personally ran the Alphatype CRS phototypesetter (bought by DEK for the purpose), in the basement of Margaret Jacks Hall, that produced the entire camera-ready copy of The Art Of Computer Programming, Volume II, Second Edition. The DVI files and Computer Modern fonts were created by the early, Sail-language, 36-bit versions of TeX and Metafont that were later redesigned and implemented to be more cross-platform. Knuth rewrote the firmware that resided on the Alphatype (in 8080 assembly language), and I wrote the code that translated from DVI and drove it from the DEC20 mainframe over a serial line (trickier than it sounds; see our joint paper "Optimal prepaging and font caching" ACM TOPLAS Vol 7 Issue 1).
Kind of astonishing that they managed to retain the institutional / folk knowledge to be able to create a new vacuum tube product, never mind the machinery and inputs to manufacture them.
I did some assembly programming on the Fairchild F8 mentioned in the prequel article. Quaintest feature: Doing a “long” jump (more than 127 bytes away) would cause the accumulator register to be clobbered. Presumably, there was nowhere else to store the high (low?) order address byte routing things around to the PC register. This was also a problem for the debugger (in ROM on the development system), since continuing from a breakpoint necessitated a long jump, so it couldn’t restore the accumulator. So, the debugger would just simulate instructions until it hit a jump, which it could then jump to. Or something like that. Fairchild provided a listing of the source to the debugger / emulator, and the line that simulated messing up the accumulator during single-stepping was commented “The F8 Touch!” It made an impression 50 years ago.
Burbank Airport used to get recognizable celebrities to record the canned public announcements in their own style. I seem to recall Joan Rivers, Henny Youngman, Jerry Seinfeld, etc. It took some of the edge off while you waited around, at least for a bit. Don't know if this continues.
Relatedly, there's a steganographic opportunity to hide info in machine code by using "XOR rax,rax" for a "zero" and "SUB rax,rax" for a "one" in your executable. Shouldn't be too hard to add a compiler feature to allow you to specify the string you want encoded into its output.
From who now?
Can they re-raise it in Series Rust?
But they left S, X, and Z rotationally symmetric, so if you choose a non-palindrome vanity plate with only those characters, you can mount it upside-down and fool plate-readers.
Well, ackchyually, the first releases of FrameMaker were created on Sun 3/50 workstations with 4MB of (unexpandable, soldered-in) RAM on a 16Mhz 68020. Most customers had the same model, and could work on modestly-sized documents with ease.
But it's not a lot of space for documents of hundreds of pages, so typical customers who were using FrameMaker to write user manuals for their products had to use "book" files to tie together individually edited chapter files. Then, once in a while you'd have to push the "generate" button on the book to get all the page numbers consistent between chapters, all the cross-references updated, and generate the updated Table Of Contents, Index, etc. You're welcome.
But there's a potential degenerate case where Chapter 1 might have a forward reference to Chapter 2 ("see page 209"), but due to some editing in Chapter 2, the referenced material now on page 210. Well, in some fonts, "209" is wider than "210" (since "1" can be skinny). So, during the Generate operation, the reference becomes "see page 210". But there's some tiny chance that this skinnier text changes the including paragraph to have one less line, so there's some tinier chance that Chapter 1 takes one less page, so Chapter 2 starts one page earlier, and now the referenced material is back on page 209. So now we're in a loop.
This was such an unlikely edge case that nobody else noticed that it even existed, much less that it was detected. I didn't bother with a fancy error message; it would just give a little one-word popup: "Degenerate". Years later, mild panic ensues when a customer calls in, irate that the software is calling them a degenerate. (And it wasn't even a real example, just some other bug that triggered it.)
Colossus: The Forbin Project is simply a renamed release of The Forbin Project, a few months after the later had a poor opening. Didn’t help the box office much. I liked it, back when it was easy to dismiss as an impossible dystopia.
Waymo halted service in San Francisco as of Saturday at 8 p.m., following a power outage that left approximately 30% of the city without power. The autonomous cars have been causing traffic jams throughout the city, as the vehicles seem unable to function without traffic signals.
It still says "44 characters" when I click the link.
Oops. Anyway, I remember attending a talk by one of the IBM engineers back when they first released the XT/370. He said that they looked at all possible ways to integrate their production line as a kind of secondary track off of one of the main production lines for the PC/XT, but the most economical option ended up being a separate facility that would receive normal pallets of regularly boxed, end-user XTs from the main factory, unbox them, make the mods, and pack them back into XT/370-labeled boxes for shipping.
Any chance it was for the "IBM Personal Computer AT/370" that nobody remembers (perhaps because nobody used)?
Yeah, and I suppose you’re going to tell me that Han didn’t shoot first, either. Did you refer to an original 1980 70mm release print, before all the fiddling around they did on subsequent releases? And newspapers and fanzines from 1982 that covered the issue (at first, LucasFilm denied these posters even existed).
On the other hand, it seems that you are, in fact, correct. Oh, well.
The high sale price was due to the fact that this was a rare "REVENGE of the Jedi" rather than the normal "RETURN of the Jedi" poster. The back-story is that the movie title was originally going to be "Revenge..." but then there was pushback because Yoda had said "A Jedi craves not revenge" in the previous episode, so it got changed.
Indeed. Take a gander at the last screenful of ziglang.org
Real programmers would have donated $524,288. But seriously good news nonetheless.
That’s a ZipCode.
Typical TOPS-20 and VMS hardware of the time would have less than a gigabyte of spinning disk space, to be shared among many dozens of users. Full copies of files were saved, and there were strict per-user disk allotments. Creating Generation 2 of a file would mark the Generation 1 version as deleted. When you ran out of allotment during execution, the OS would pause your program and give you the chance to issue an Expunge command to really recycle all (or a subset) of the deleted files, and then you'd just Continue the paused process. Similar to desktop "Trash" folders where deleted things go, and that you may have to Empty once in a while.
Not being able to chown() caused us grief developing Frame Maker back in the 80s. The responsible way to handle "save" was to write the document into a new file mydoc.new, then rename mydoc.cur to mydoc.backup and then rename mydoc.new to mydoc.cur, so that failure never left you in the lurch. The only problem was that there was no way to create mydoc.new to have the same owner as mydoc.cur and customers complained that we'd keep changing the owner of their files. If only the semantics of the unix filesystem supported file generation numbers, like on Tops20 or VaxVMS, where the default for writing to a file isn't "yeah, sure, write over top of the old data, and let's hope nothing fails along the way" this would not have been a problem.
And when it finally dies and is disposed of, the mercury in the internal (ingenious) mechanism will likely end up in the wild. P.s. They came in colors? I only ever saw them in tan, which virtually everyone had half a century ago.
Steve Gibson? Now that’s a name I’ve not heard in a long time… Maybe 30 years? SpinRite?
The RPC-4000 (the "big brother" of the LGP-30) had each instruction specify the next instruction address. I believe this was to allow for optimizing your program such that the next instruction would always be right under a read head on the drum when the processor was ready for it, because if you missed it, it took a whole revolution of the drum to get back to it (kind of like a cache miss).
In any case, it seems that while Mel wrote lots of code for the LGP-30, the actual hack in the story involved code that Mel was porting from LGP-30 to RPC-4000.
The annotations say "... I don't have the exact instruction format for the either the LGP-30 or RPC-4000 ..." but the entire manual for the LGP-30 with this information, and way more, is available at http://www.bitsavers.org/pdf/royalPrecision/LGP-30/LGP-30_Op...
In 1973, Mr. Willoughby taught the Abington (Pennsylvania) High School computer programming class to code in LGP-30 assembly language. We didn't actually have an LGP-30; it just happened to be what he had been taught on when he was young. All assignments were graded by him simulating your code in his head. Of course, we then went on to learn the (slightly) higher-level NEAT/3 language, for which the school actually had an NCR Century-100 mainframe that would run programs that we submitted on punch cards. Mr. Willoughby's (nobody knew teachers' first names back in the day) theory was that it was important to learn the lowest-level machine language first, so you could understand what was really going on underneath. Worked fine for me; evidently it's not quite so universal anymore.
But will your grandchild be able to read handwriting?