Clara and I found this Pentium III motherboard and a collection of parts off the side of the road in Chatswood back in 2024. I put it into an Antec case from my father in law, and it’s gradually become my primary utility PC. I use it to test hard drives and expansion cards before I put them into my other machines, and I use its 5.25 and 3.5 disk drives for imaging and creating boot disks.
Weirdly, about a month ago the attached PS/2 started sending errant signals. Or so I thought. I’d be in a utility checking the status of a drive, like a gentleman, when suddenly I’d be scrolled a page further down, or a random menu item would be selected. If an invalid key was “pressed”, the PC speaker would chirp indignantly. One morning I woke up to hear the PC speaker beeping on and off nearly continuously, as though a ghost cat had sat on the keyboard, or Ed Sheeran was giving a concert.
Worried that it might somehow be an electrical issue on the port, I connected a USB keyboard instead. Alas, the errant key presses and resulting beeps resumed, as though the ghost cat had been summoned again, or a listener with a masochistic streak had asked Ed Sheeran for an encore.
I tore the whole machine down, removed the board, double-checked the mounting nuts, re-installed the board, and only connected the essentials. A week later in this state, and the issue hasn’t resurfaced, even with the original PS/2 keyboard attached again. I’ve been slowly reattaching components, validating they work, then repeating.
So far, so good. Sheeran and the ghost cat have been banished, and I’m able to interact with the computer as normal. Huzzah!
I’m still at a loss as to what caused the problems though. Maybe the PS/2 port was marginal and I managed to finagle it into working again, though that wouldn’t explain why a USB keyboard exhibited the same issue. Maybe the board wasn’t mounted properly, which caused a short. Or maybe something I had plugged in before was spamming the bus, something people do on public transport when they don’t use headphones.
Well hello there! The levity with which I’ve introduced this post, and the delighted manner in which I’m currently writing it (sitting next to a computer that has recently been re-transplanted back into its original case) both may seem to run counter to the topic at hand. Namely, that as a retrocomputer tragic, I’ve had to forfeit my dream of having a beige NAS case in favour of something more practical for what we need. But I have a far better solution now, and am relieved to have recognised this before throwing more money and time into a sunk cost.
But let’s take a step back for a moment here. Hopefully we’re not standing at the edge of a precipice, cliff, or other steep surface where such footing may prove disadvantageous to our continued existence.
Wow, that was a lot of waffle
The SilverStone FLP02 (above, right) is almost great. It’s beige, which is obviously amazing, but it also has modern affordances like generous cooling intakes, cable management gromets, and 2.5-inch drive mounts. I moved Clara’s and my home server across to it, and by all accounts was delighted with the visual result. The penultimate word in that sentence is weight bearing; we’ll come back to that.
For those unfamiliar, aino.lan runs eight hard drives, two SFF SSDs, two M.2 SSDs, and all our self-hosted services including the family VPN, backup target, Samba file server, Minecraft host, a proxy/mirror for updates, automatic blog/podcast/YouTube archiver, kitchen sink, and basically anything else I can throw at it. This is run with a combination of FreeBSD jails, and a couple of bhyve VMs running NetBSD and Alpine Linux. It’s nothing exotic, just a Xeon E3-1275 v6 on an old DDR4 Supermicro workstation board. But for an OS tinkerer and sysadmin, it’s proved perfect.
Unfortunately, the FLP02’s design has a few weaknesses when it comes to this specific use case, which I only realised after finishing the build and using it for a few months.
First, the power supply is hidden under a metal shroud. They’re a popular design choice for modern cases, and they’re a massive pain in the arse. Attaching any new modular power cable is borderline impossible without removing the PSU or lower drive cage each time, because of the tight clearances. You also have to route cables a further distance, which makes connecting drives mounted at the top of the case difficult. I sourced longer power cables, but the complexity of routing them wasn’t fun.
The power supply shroud also necessitates splitting the installed hard drives into two sections. The cage at the bottom of the case (as seen above) is robust and quiet, but the sleds in the main case chamber (below) have severe vibration issues. I’m not sure whether its because they only have three asymmetrical contact points with the chassis, but the drives hum and resonate across the case, which is both loud and worrying. On several BSD Now recording sessions I had to power the machine down because ZFS scrubs were were audible on the mic! I bought some rubber washers, but they only marginally improved the situation.
The other issue with the front drive sleds have to do with cable clearance. My Corsair modular power cables proved difficult to fit through the tiny open space to connect to the drives. The sleds have a gap at the rear, so I ended up feeding cables through these gaps, then attaching the sleds to the case. This works, but made swapping or rearranging individual drives painful.
Standard SATA data cables also didn’t work well. They jut out just enough from the side drives that the metal side panel bulges outwards. I found some right-angled SATA connectors that solved this issue, but at the time of wrting I couldn’t find a breakout cable for my LSI HBA controller that had right-angled connectors.
All this is to say the FLP02 is a great case for a desktop with a couple of spinning drives and a large graphics card, but there are too many design decisions that make it difficult to recommend as a NAS, or a server with a bunch of drives. I’m a retrocomputer tragic, and did everything I could to accommodate, but in the end I had to concede I was using it in a way for which it wasn’t designed.
I would say that in my defence, the FLP02 is huge. I haven’t bought a new computer case in years, and I’m surprised at just how large cases have become. Even some Mini-ITX cases are approaching the size of my original Pentium 1 tower from the 1990s. The Antec Three Hundred is smaller, and yet fits more components. As it stands, the FLP02 is a modern case designed to showcase parts, which I’m not interested in doing.
Back to the Antec Three Hundred
I rebuilt this server into the Antec Three Hundred with a new set of fans, and in the process I remembered how awesome it was. The drives all mount easily in the front, and have no issues with vibration whatsoever. Without the need for aesthetic cable management, everything is also simple to connect and access, with lots of cable clearance. It also has plenty of cooling potential with two 120 mm fans in the front, a 120 mm fan in the side, a 120 mm in the rear, and a 140 mm [sic] fan in the roof. About the only thing it can’t do is mount modern long graphics cards, but I wouldn’t be doing that here anyway.
This was a quick photo I took for myself before adding the last pair of drives and SSDs into the 5.25-drive area, hence the awkward angle. But you get the idea:
Maybe one day I’ll have the space for a proper rack, and I’ll replace this whole setup with a couple of 2U machines with proper drive sleds. Right now though we need space and quiet, and this previous setup gave this to us.
CEOs, who have a vested financial interest in their companies, are telling us AI is “developing too fast”. Don’t look at the devastating climate impact, bubble pumping, financial fraud, broken promises, or predictions that never come to pass, the real threat is just how great our tech is.
Good grief!
Can you imagine a chorus of defence contractors doing an interview where they agree their weapons are too powerful? Real estate agents everywhere agree: the housing market is just too undervalued! Buy buy buy!
(Then again, if we pretended the Emperor had clothes for a moment, why are we letting them develop tech that’s clearly so destructive? No angle here makes sense, but then, I suspect that’s the point).
Wait, I just realised something. This is too good of a blog. I threaten the space-time continuum with my insights, wordplay, and intelligence. I’m not bragging, I’m merely worrying about its impact on the world. A law should be introduced to slow me down! By the way, have a spare trillion dollars?
I don’t know what’s more bizarre: the claims made by these incredulous charlatans, or the fact almost every journalist eats this glorified PR up without any critical thought whatsoever, just because it has “AI”. You’d think they would have learned their lesson from blockchain.
I realised recently that I’ve spent the majority of my life living and working in places that start with S:
Singapore
Sydney
San Francisco
If I had a dollar for every place that began with S, I’d have three dollars. That’s more than two dollars. Makes you think, if you don’t think too hard.
I’m now on a mission to collect other places that start with S. Off the top of my head, these are some more places I’d love to visit:
A few years ago I got a Commodore VC 20, the German release of the VIC 20 computer from 1980. It was called the VC 20, because “VIC” in German alludes to something sexual. It’s also why you’ll never hear an Australian telling you they’re rooting for you.
About a year ago (gulp) I got some feedback from a chap called Luke:
You mispelled [sic] “VIC-20” on your Ruben Retro Corner ;).
Then about a week later:
You still haven’t fixed your VIC-20 page….
Then a few days after this:
IT still isn’t fixed……
This continued for another six messages before I muted his address. Maybe I could have replied, and clarified that it wasn’t a mistake. But I also felt like the page to which he was referring made this spelling difference clear:
The VIC 20 was Commodore’s first colour home computer, sold from 1980. The VC 20 [sic] was re-badged for sale in Germany, owing to the unfortunate meaning of the original name.
I don’t know, maybe he was joking. But he seemed oddly insistent. Luke, if you’re reading this, and you were joking, well played. If not, I’m happy to pretend you were. Not doing so would be a bit of a VIC move. Entschuldigung.
I lost my keys earlier this week. I had one of those Orbit Key ring things, with my house keys, and the key fob to get back into the apartment building. It was going to be a Process™ to get these replaced, as some of them are fire keys with unique serial numbers that are forbidden to be cut.
Just in case, Clara and I went around the suburb where I had the client meeting, including the path I took from the station, to the coffee shop, then back home again. We left notes with the shopping centre concierge, the coffee shop owners, and with Sydney Trains. I figured the chance of me being reunited with them was somewhere between aiyo and wah lao eh, but it was worth a shot.
We then started budgeting the cost of new keys, filling out the requisite paperwork to get the new fobs and fire keys, and figuring out how we were going to survive with only one of each in the interim. Monday would be the earliest strata for our building could get the new keys to us, so the weekend would be challenging.
Then the unthinkable happened…!
I was walking back from a client meeting when my phone buzzed. It was the station master from the next stop on our line, calling to let me know my keys had been handed in, and that he could return them to me. I got a message with a photo, and confirmed they were the exact set I’d dropped.
I had to answer a couple of questions, and provide some basic contact details, but the fool and his keys were soon reunited. We ended up talking for twenty minutes or so about his job, this part of Sydney, and even some walking trails he recommended. He’d been on the job for a decade, and said he was routinely handing back wallets full of cash, car keys, phones, laptops, all of which had been handed in. I said it was cliché, but it all restored my faith in humanity a bit.
To everyone involved at Sydney Trains, and to the person who handed these in, thank you! You’re legends :).
To help prevent this in the future, I’m getting a lanyard, and possibly one of those smart tag things, despite my privacy reservations. I’m absentminded enough that this sort of thing happens all too often with wallets, keys, and umbrellas, and it’s getting more than a bit silly. I’m also contemplating retiring the Orbit Key ring; while it makes my keys tidier, the lack of an audible jingling cue is likely why I didn’t hear them when they fell out.
Brian: This ban you’re proposing for personal mobility devices like scooters and ebikes…
Carr: Yes, they’re a scourge, aren’t they?
Brian: How are they a scourge?
Carr: Well people ride these things at speed, and they put the safety of people around them at risk. They’re a menace Brian. A menace and a scourge.
Brian: So like cars, then?
Carr: No, not at all like cars Brian. Cars are legal, and they have practical applications.
Brian: Personal mobility devices don’t have practical applications?
Carr: Nobody’s moving house on a bicycle, Brian.
Brian: You’ve never seen the Dutch.
Carr: Point is, Brian, these mobility devices are driven on footpaths, which puts them in direct contact with pedestrians. They’re injuries waiting to happen.
Brian: Well I certainly wouldn’t want to be rear-ended by a scooter.
Carr: Exactly, Brian. We need to nip these devices in the bud before they injure more people, or worse.
Brian: Or, worse?
Carr: They could inconvenience a motorist.
Brian: Senator, how do you quantify the danger here? How many people do these devices injure in Australia?
Carr: Oh hundreds, Brian. It’s very serious.
Brian: Hundreds a… year?
Carr: No hundreds, total, that we know of.
Brian: Well how do you reconcile that with the tens of thousands who are maimed and killed on roads every year, with almost $1.5 billion in medical expenses? Should we be banning them too?
Carr: I don’t see how that comparison is relevant, Brian.
Brian: You’re talking about banning devices that are driven at speed, with little regard for their surroundings. Cars are driven the same way, and the outcomes are far worse. For motorists and pedestrians.
Carr: Well yes Brian, but nobody is driving their car on the footpath. That’s the difference, and it’s why they’re so uniquely dangerous to pedestrians.
Brian: So why are these mobility devices driven on the footpath where they can contact pedestrians?
Carr: Well they can’t drive on the road now, can they Brian?
Brian: Why not?
Carr: It’s dangerous.
Brian: Because of cars?
Carr: Well yes Brian. I drive an American light truck on the weekends. I can barely see in front of me.
Brian: And those are okay?
Carr: Well we can’t just start banning things we don’t like Brian.
Brian: Fair enough. Isn’t the alternative then to give these mobility devices their own protected space?
Carr: Oh that could never work, Brian.
Brian: It works on the Sydney Harbour Bridge.
Carr: Well yes, but that’s different.
Brian: Different, how?
Carr: It’s a bridge. It’s huge. It’s…
Brian: Senator, I’m just trying to…
Carr: …made of metal.
Brian: …understand the justification for banning alternative forms of transport that would help us meet our climate goals, improve people’s health, and reduce road traffic. If your concern is safety, why not address that?
Carr: But that’s my whole point, Brian. We have roads full of cars, and footpaths where pedestrians are being hit by mobility devices. Banning them is the only workable solution for safety.
Brian: So once you’ve banned these mobility devices, I suppose you’ll then be advocating for protected infrastructure to permit their safe operation?
Carr: Well we wouldn’t need to by then, because…
Brian: Because… you would have banned them?
Carr: Exactly.
Brian: Well I put it to you that cars, and especially those American light trucks, should be banned first if our primary concern is safety.
Carr: That reminds me Brian, can you book me a cab?
Brian: Did the front fall off?
Carr: No, I have to leave early today, the traffic is horrendous.
Brian: Senator… thanks for your time.
Carr: It’s bumper to bumper. Someone should do something about it.
I remember first encountering this in primary school, when Excel 97 wouldn’t load two versions of an assignment unless I renamed one of the backups. Meanwhile, the graphical version of Lotus 1-2-3 that came with Lotus SmartSuite Millennium Edition had no issue.
As an aside, I miss SmartSuite. I was a weird kid, and had an obsession with building games in 1-2-3. Don’t read too much into that.
The blog ticked over to 1,050 posts recently. At ten posts per page, this means I have 10,500 posts. That’s quite a long fence. Wait, what?
1,050 is one of those numbers I’m sure statistically doesn’t appear in my life any more than others, but once you’re told to look out for green cars, you see them everywhere. For example, just then. It was a Mini. That tracks. Wait, no it doesn’t, it’s a car. A rail car?
Off the top of my head:
I wrote a post in 2026 about how I remembered all these times 1,050 appeared. That was weird!
A specific group assignment in high school had an array with 1,050 elements. We even used the OPTION BASE 1 directive so we could refer to it as such. That array is the only part I remember.
I lived briefly in a share house at that number; albeit one with “A” because it was on a subdivided block.
Back when I would dual-boot my childhood desktop with Mandrake Linux, I settled on a 10.5 GB FAT32 data partition to share with Windows 2000. I always made partitions slightly larger than I needed, so 10 GB became 10.5. The file manager I used reported this as 10.50. It bothered me later that I’d try hitting that specific number, and I’d end up with 1052, or 1048, or something.
My iPhone 7 had a broken mail client that showed 1500 unread messages, irrespective of how much I read or cleaned up my inbox. I miss that handset; the 7, 8, and SE were the last good iPhones. 1500 isn’t 1050, but with my mild dyslexia I would often read it as such.
A mobile phone number I had in Malaysia had 1050 in the middle. I still have the Maxis Sim card in my drawer of SD cards, for pointless nostalgia.
In my more oblivious days with graphics cards, I almost bought a used GTX 1050 to “upgrade” my GTX 970. “1050” has now become something I mutter when I see something that’s newer but not better.
Now I just need 1,044 more observations to round this off to a nice 1,050.
Update: I misspelled 1,050 and 1,500 in a few places, which is a bit funny.
I tragically ran out of fresh decaf coffee beans from our favourite roaster this side of the Bridge last night, as well as those surprisingly decent Muji decaf coffee bags. It’s tough being me. So I went for a walk to the local shopping centre in the evening to see what they had for my nightcap. My track record with supermarket decaf is poor to mediocre, but maybe by some fluke I could get something great.
The supermarket in question did have some decent(ish) decaf coffee beans, but they’re more than twice the price than the far superior beans I can get fresh from my local roaster. In the Australian vernacular, yeah, nah. That left the regular pre-ground options from the usual suspects.
Or so I thought. Not to get all turns out on you, but Lavazza sell a 3/10 “intensity” decaf in this rather fetching bag:
Intensity in supermarket parlance refers to roast level. Higher intensity correlates with darker roasts and bitter coffee, which I’d rather avoid. Seeing one at the other end of the scale was pleasant surprise.
I took it home and used my regular 250 g of boiling water to 16 g of grounds in the Clever Dripper, and let it steep for 02:30, agitating it a bit at the 02:00 mark. If that sounds like a Hoffman recipe, it’s probably because it is. Immediately I noticed the drawdown took a long time, more than twice that of the coffee I grind fresh myself. That indicates a finer grind optimised more for espresso, though the packaging does show a filter brewer, French Press, and a Moka Pot. Hey, maybe I should try the latter again with these beans.
As for the taste? I was pleasantly surprised. It was smooth and not particularly bitter, though it also lacked any outstanding flavours. It’s not as good as the Muji coffee, and a far cry from the fresh Colombian decaf I’m lucky to get from the local roaster, but as an evening drink with a bikkie? It was delightful.
I don’t rank coffees I dislike, so on my weird coffee scale this gets a 1/5. It’s what I’d consider baseline tasty. Which honestly for pre-ground supermarket decaf is high praise. I might keep a bag of this in the freezer for emergencies.
