this wooden desk lets you draw in midair.
watch the pen in the corner. lift it off the table and the orange line on screen rises with it. move your hand in a loop and the computer traces that loop in 3D.
it’s called MagDesk. there’s a small magnet inside the pen and 112 magnetic sensors under the wood.
they track where the pen is and how it tilts.
the pen itself doesn’t even need a battery.
your eyes can't catch every bad solder joint. this tiny camera can
a microscope scans the circuit board while AI checks each joint and highlights possible defects right on the screen, in real time
how it works:
→ a Luxonis OAK4 camera captures the board
→ a computer vision model inspects every joint
→ anything suspicious gets flagged instantly
no squinting, no checking hundreds of connections by hand.
just a microscope, a camera, and a chip that never gets tired
your HDMI cable can leak what’s on your screen
watch the laptop on the left. it reconstructs the video playing on the monitor beside it from radio signals leaking out of the HDMI connection
this is TempestSDR. an antenna picks up the leakage, a HackRF radio captures it, and software turns it back into an image
researchers took this further with Deep-TEMPEST, using AI to make recovered images and text easier to read. this clip shows the original technique
quality depends on shielding, distance and interference. the picture is imperfect, but recognizable content still gets through
a wired connection can still leave a wireless trace
Readers added context they thought people might want to know
HDMI TEMPEST demos like TempestSDR recover distorted images only in controlled close-range setups often using unshielded or poorly shielded cables; standard consumer HDMI connections and distances prevent practical screen leakage or remote recovery.
rtl-sdr.com/easvesdropping…
arxiv.org/pdf/2407.09717
techradar.com/computing/cybe…
kaspersky.com/blog/deep-temp…
your HDMI cable can leak what’s on your screen
watch the laptop on the left. it reconstructs the video playing on the monitor beside it from radio signals leaking out of the HDMI connection
this is TempestSDR. an antenna picks up the leakage, a HackRF radio captures it, and software turns it back into an image
researchers took this further with Deep-TEMPEST, using AI to make recovered images and text easier to read. this clip shows the original technique
quality depends on shielding, distance and interference. the picture is imperfect, but recognizable content still gets through
a wired connection can still leave a wireless trace
Readers added context they thought people might want to know
HDMI TEMPEST demos like TempestSDR recover distorted images only in controlled close-range setups often using unshielded or poorly shielded cables; standard consumer HDMI connections and distances prevent practical screen leakage or remote recovery.
rtl-sdr.com/easvesdropping…
arxiv.org/pdf/2407.09717
techradar.com/computing/cybe…
kaspersky.com/blog/deep-temp…
TURN SOUND ON ! ! !
Sony made a music player that could dance.
This is Sony Rolly, a pocket-sized music player from 2007 with stereo speakers, motorised wheels and moving speaker covers.
Press play and the song becomes a performance. It rolls across the table, spins, opens its covers and lights up alongside the music.
The clever part is how those movements are created. Rolly could analyse a track and generate a routine, or you could use Sony’s Motion Editor to choreograph it yourself.
It also worked as a portable speaker, playing stored music or receiving audio over Bluetooth.
Sensors let you skip tracks and adjust the volume by physically moving the device.
Put it on your desk and you have music with something to watch. Connect it to your computer and you can start designing the performance.
Sony gave you a way to put your own choreography into a favourite song. All inside something that fits in your hand.
this little box gives AI a keyboard, a mouse, and a view of your screen
it’s the NanoKVM Pro, a tiny device powered by an Axera AX630C chip that connects to a computer through HDMI and USB
HDMI captures the screen. USB sends the clicks and keystrokes
its experimental AI agent uses an external vision model to decide what to do next. Sipeed demonstrates it finding and downloading an ESP32 datasheet
the model runs through an API or your own server. the box handles the connection to the computer
a small piece of hardware turns an AI instruction into actions you can watch on your desk
imagine having your own AI sidekick that follows you around the house. its NVIDIA brain costs about $400.
this is VECTOR, a homemade robot built around an NVIDIA Jetson Orin Nano 8GB.
walk across the room and it follows. put something in its path and it changes direction. it can even respond to voice commands.
AI vision detects and tracks people, LiDAR spots obstacles, and ROS 2 coordinates its movements. a small ESP32-C3 handles the motors.
you can build something similar at home using available parts. it takes coding, wiring and patience, but the hardware is within reach.
your next AI project could follow you out of the room.
your electronics can make sounds you’ll never hear. this camera shows you where they come from.
this is the FOTRIC TD2e, an acoustic camera that turns sound into colored spots on a live image.
point it at the lights or electronics on a workbench and hidden sources of high frequency noise appear on screen. change the frequency range and different sources come into view.
64 tiny microphones capture the sound. the processor compares their signals, calculates the direction it’s coming from, and places the result over the camera image.
the practical part is finding things: a compressed air leak, an elusive electronic squeal, or unusual noise from running equipment.
you get a location to investigate instead of searching an entire machine by ear.
your personal AI agent just got a workbench.
Jumperless V5 lets an AI agent like Claude Code control a real electrical circuit on your desk.
you plug in the components and tell the agent where they are. electronic switches inside the board let it change the connections between them without you moving jumper wires. LEDs beneath the holes make those connections visible.
the agent can set voltages, measure voltage and current, and generate signals. it works through your computer, sending commands to the board and reading the results back.
with an LED and resistor in place, you could ask it to connect the circuit, make the LED pulse, and measure the current. then ask for a different pulse rate and watch the result.
that makes it useful for testing components and trying different circuit configurations without rebuilding the connections for every test.
the interesting part is the feedback. your agent can make a change, measure what actually happened, and use that reading to decide what to try next.
If you want more info, write a comment and i will give you
your personal AI agent just got a workbench.
Jumperless V5 lets an AI agent like Claude Code control a real electrical circuit on your desk.
you plug in the components and tell the agent where they are. electronic switches inside the board let it change the connections between them without you moving jumper wires. LEDs beneath the holes make those connections visible.
the agent can set voltages, measure voltage and current, and generate signals. it works through your computer, sending commands to the board and reading the results back.
with an LED and resistor in place, you could ask it to connect the circuit, make the LED pulse, and measure the current. then ask for a different pulse rate and watch the result.
that makes it useful for testing components and trying different circuit configurations without rebuilding the connections for every test.
the interesting part is the feedback. your agent can make a change, measure what actually happened, and use that reading to decide what to try next.
If you want more info, write a comment and i will give you
Claude Code helped me build this. now my house texts me.
cut the main supply and a backup battery keeps this little circuit alive long enough to send an SMS. when the power returns, it sends another.
it uses a microcontroller, a GSM module and a SIM card. the message travels over the mobile network, so your home router can be completely off.
you could use Claude Code to help write the detection and SMS logic for your own version.
monitor the circuit powering your freezer, aquarium or home server, and you can find out about an outage while you're away.
basically a few electronic components that tell you something went wrong before you get home and discover it yourself.
he built a robot arm you control by moving its tiny twin
turn the little arm, and the big one turns. lower its wrist, and the robot reaches down. every movement starts with your hand.
in this demo, it picks up a figure, carries it across the desk, and sets it down while the operator guides the miniature beside it.
potentiometers measure the small arm’s joint angles. an Arduino reads those positions and moves the larger arm’s servo motors to match.
Build Some Stuff designed and 3D printed the system.
the clever part is the interface. you guide the robot using a model that moves the same way it does.
this homemade camera can show you where that annoying noise is coming from.
someone built that with an ESP32-S3, four microphones and a camera module wired together on breadboards.
in one demo, an electric toothbrush becomes a patch of color on screen. adjust the processing, and the noisy areas become easier to distinguish.
then comes the more interesting test.
an MP3 player and an earbud are both making noise in different frequency ranges. change the frequency filter, and a different source comes into focus.
the setup:
→ four microphones capture the sound
→ the ESP32 sends audio and images over Wi-Fi
→ Python on the computer estimates where the sound comes from and draws the hotspot
the computer handles the calculations. echoes and microphone spacing affect the result.
but the working prototype already tracks moving sound sources.
a handful of components on a desk, turning “where is that noise coming from?” into something you can see.
Novak Djokovic took a television crew into a basement in Belgrade.
“This is where practically we stayed. Right here, right inside.”
During NATO’s 1999 bombing campaign, his family sheltered in his grandfather’s apartment building. When the sirens sounded, they went downstairs with everyone else who could fit.
Djokovic remembers waking at two or three in the morning, night after night.
The interviewer asked whether he had continued playing tennis.
“I continued playing tennis every day.”
But when asked whether he had lost his focus, he admitted he had. During those first weeks, fear and interrupted sleep made it difficult to concentrate.
One detail stayed with him: school had closed, so the children had more time to play. Even inside that experience, he had found something he wanted to keep doing.
In 2011, he won his first Wimbledon title.
Asked what went through his mind after the victory, Djokovic remembered the courts where he had started and his childhood in Belgrade.
“I had the flashback of my whole childhood, what I’ve been through.”
Patrick Stewart grew up listening for the moment a family argument would turn violent.
Then he and his brother would step between their father and their mother.
His father returned from the Second World War in 1945, when Stewart was five. He had been a regimental sergeant major in the Parachute Regiment.
Until his return, Stewart remembers his childhood as idyllic. At home, things gradually became more difficult.
Speaking on Loose Women, the actor known as Professor X recalled sitting upstairs with his brother, listening.
“We became experts in something that children should never, ever have to deal with.”
They learned to judge when an argument was becoming dangerous. That was their signal to intervene.
“All we could do really was we would just try and put our bodies between my father and my mother.”
Decades later, Stewart discovered that wartime reports had described his father as suffering from “severe shell shock.”
He says his father was never treated for it, the condition he now understood as post-traumatic stress disorder.
“He was never given any help.”
The discovery helped Stewart understand his father. But it did not erase what his mother had endured.
“That does not justify what he did. Not remotely.”
At 21, Clint Eastwood survived a military plane crash in the Pacific Ocean. He had boarded because the flight was free.
It was 1951. Before the westerns and the Oscars, Eastwood was a young U.S. Army soldier hitching a ride home on a Navy aircraft.
Military personnel could fly for free when space was available. On this trip, he took a seat in a Douglas AD.
Then things started going wrong.
“Radios went out. Oxygen ran out.”
The pilot kept flying, but eventually they ran out of fuel near Point Reyes, California.
They went into the ocean.
Asked what had been going through his mind, Eastwood gave an answer far removed from his screen persona:
“Stark fear, stark terror.”
He knew little about aviation. He was a passenger, dependent on the pilot to get them down alive.
Both men escaped the aircraft and eventually reached shore. Eastwood remembered the cold water and the thought that other people had survived situations like this. Perhaps they could too.
Then the interviewer asked whether he had been afraid he would die.
His answer contained the most striking detail of the story.
Once they hit the water, he actually felt more comfortable.
Being in the ocean gave him something he could respond to. Sitting in the aircraft, listening to an engine that was no longer running, had been worse.
Decades later, Eastwood would direct Sully, a film about a pilot bringing an aircraft down on water.
He already knew what that moment felt like from the passenger’s seat.
Before he became Batman’s Alfred, Michael Caine served in Korea. On one patrol, he and three other soldiers believed they were about to die.
They escaped by heading toward the enemy.
In an interview with the Academy of Achievement, Caine recalled being surrounded by Chinese troops during the Korean War.
“We knew we were going to die.”
But alongside the fear of death came another question. When the moment arrived, would he hold his nerve, or would he panic and run?
The four men prepared to fight. Then their officer proposed a different way out.
“Let’s go towards their lines and go right round.”
According to Caine, the Chinese troops were waiting for them to retreat toward their own positions. Instead, the patrol moved toward the Chinese lines, went around them and made it back.
What stayed with him was something he had discovered about himself while he still believed escape was impossible.
“But I came out of it knowing that I wasn’t a coward.”
Caine said he hated war. He described Korea as a terrifying experience that forced him to do things he would never have imagined doing.
Yet that night gave him an answer to a question he had been afraid to face.
“And I’ve known that for the rest of my life.”
Green Beret John Stryker Meyer says a South Vietnamese pilot hovered under enemy fire for 10 minutes to rescue his team.
They later counted 48 bullet holes in the helicopter.
When Meyer offered to buy the pilot a drink, he said he needed to get home.
Meyer was serving with MACV-SOG during the Vietnam War. In his interview with Shawn Ryan, he recalls his team struggling through tall elephant grass toward a rescue helicopter.
The pilot, Captain Tin, couldn’t land. Small trees beneath the aircraft threatened to destroy its rotor blades.
So he held the helicopter above them while the men fought their way through.
Getting aboard was another struggle.
Meyer describes hauling men into the aircraft, then being pulled inside himself. By the time they escaped, he was down to his last magazine and last hand grenade.
It was almost dark.
Looking back, he could see green tracers rising from the jungle toward the helicopter.
They made it back to base.
Meyer approached the pilot, thanked him for saving their lives and offered to buy him a drink.
Tin’s answer was simple:
“No, my wife is holding dinner for me at home. I want to see my children.”
Two days later, the pilot told him about the 48 bullet holes.
Meyer says the Kingbee pilots never had to pay for drinks in their club.
The firefight takes up most of the story. Then a sentence about dinner brings the man at the controls into focus.
He had a wife expecting him. Children he wanted to see.
And he had stayed above that jungle for ten minutes to bring someone else home.
An American helicopter pilot landed between Vietnamese civilians and American soldiers.
He told his crew to be ready to fire on their own men if they tried to kill the people he was rescuing.
His name was Hugh Thompson. He was 24 years old.
On March 16, 1968, Thompson was flying a scout helicopter over My Lai, South Vietnam, with Larry Colburn and Glenn Andreotta. Their job was to support American troops on the ground.
But there was no enemy fire. Instead, they saw dead and wounded civilians along the roads. Some were people they had seen alive minutes earlier. Below them, American soldiers were killing unarmed villagers.
Thompson landed near a ditch filled with bodies. Some people were still alive. When he told a soldier they needed help, Colburn recalled the man replying that they would help them “out of their misery.”
Then Thompson spotted another group of villagers running toward a bunker, with American troops following them. He decided to get in the way.
He landed between the soldiers and the civilians. Before getting out, he told his crew to shoot if the Americans opened fire on him or the villagers. He walked toward the bunker without drawing his sidearm and brought the people out.
Other helicopters carried them to safety. The crew then returned to the ditch, found a child still alive among the bodies, and flew him to a hospital.
Thompson reported the killings and later testified about them. Back in the United States, he received death threats. Mutilated animals were left on his porch. He recalled entering a crowded officers’ club and watching it empty until almost nobody remained but him and the bartender.
He had protected civilians from American soldiers. Some people treated him as though that was the betrayal.
In 1998, thirty years after My Lai, the Army awarded Thompson, Colburn, and Andreotta the Soldier’s Medal. Andreotta’s award was posthumous; he had been killed in Vietnam shortly after the massacre. That same year, Thompson and Colburn returned to My Lai with 60 Minutes and met two women they had helped rescue.
One had been a little girl when the helicopter landed. Now she stood before them, thirty years older.
Thompson introduced the man beside him: “This is Larry. He was with me that day.”
Before he sang “You’re Beautiful,” James Blunt says he was ordered to overpower 200 Russian soldiers at an airport in Kosovo.
He questioned the order. Then a British general came on the radio.
It was June 1999. Blunt was 25, serving as a British Army officer near the front of a NATO force advancing toward Pristina airport. Russian troops had arrived first.
According to Blunt, they pointed their weapons at his men and warned them against entering.
The instruction he says came down from NATO commander General Wesley Clark was to “overrun and overpower the Russians.”
Blunt had armed troops behind him. The Russians were standing in front of them. Carrying out the order risked turning a dispute over an airport into a direct military confrontation.
He began questioning the instructions.
Then General Mike Jackson intervened.
At the Oxford Union, Blunt recalled Jackson’s words:
“I will not have my soldiers be responsible for starting World War III.”
The troops pulled back and surrounded the airfield.
Blunt says that two days later, the Russians asked to share their food and water. The British response was that they could share supplies if the Russians shared access to the airport.
The wider standoff still required negotiations. It would be misleading to say one young officer settled the entire crisis himself.
But listen to how Blunt tells the story.
He calls it the moment of his life he would most like to be remembered for. Then, after describing the confrontation, he makes a point of giving Jackson the credit.
The famous singer is telling the audience to remember someone else’s name.
Jack Barsky, a KGB spy living undercover in America, says he avoided returning to the Soviet Union by pretending he had AIDS.
The KGB believed him and told his family he was already dead.
“I sent them my last letter with secret writing.”
“I said, ‘I wish I could come, but I can’t because I have contracted HIV/AIDS.’”
“That was the best lie ever because nobody wanted to have AIDS in their country.”
“Those days it was a death sentence, right?”
“So they believed it, and I asked them to give my dollar savings to my German family.”
“They gave them some, but they told my family that I already passed away, that I’m dead.”
“They believed it, 100%.”
“And the next three months, I made sure that I wasn’t reliably at the same spot in the same time frame.”
“So I went to work in different paths at different times.”
“After I sent the letter, I threw the shortwave radio in the Hudson River.”
“For a new life and live out my life as an American, undiscovered.”
The KGB looked for signs of nuclear war in Margaret Thatcher’s schedule.
Even a meeting with the Queen could make the list.
In this 1990 interview, former KGB officer Oleg Gordievsky explains how Soviet fears reached that point.
Between 1979 and 1984, he says, some Soviet leaders began to believe the Reagan administration might be preparing a surprise nuclear attack.
An attack intended to get rid of the Soviet Union and communism for good.
So the KGB and Soviet military intelligence were ordered to search for signs that preparations were underway.
Troop movements. Military activity. Weapons being prepared.
Then Gordievsky describes the smaller details they watched.
“Prime minister working until the early morning hours.”
“Prime minister visiting the Queen.”
Visits by the American ambassador to government agencies in London also attracted attention.
So did lights staying on overnight in intelligence and defence buildings.
And, as Gordievsky puts it:
“A lot of limousines between the ministries.”
An office working late. An ambassador making visits. The prime minister meeting the Queen.
Ordinary government activity was being examined for clues to an approaching nuclear attack.
Gordievsky’s account offers a disturbing glimpse into how intelligence can be interpreted when the people requesting it already fear the worst.
Someone had to report those details.
Someone else had to decide what they meant.
And in a confrontation between nuclear powers, that judgment mattered enormously.
When you are already expecting an attack, how easily does an office light become evidence?


