Drones have become a potent military threat, particularly on the small scale. Nimble multi-rotor drones are fast, difficult to spot, and can cause plenty of harm if allowed to go about their work unhindered. The first step to dealing with this issue is detection—a problem that [Agam Rossen] has put some work into.
The result is VolAnti—an open-source drone detector. This route was chosen as a reliable way to detect incoming multi-rotors, since spinning propellers tend to create a telltale sound that can be plucked from the noise quite specifically. In a world where fiber optic drones eschew RF emissions, it also proves particularly useful for early warning of such craft.
VolAnti relies on a small four-microphone array, with the I2S output of all four mics summed together. The output is then fed into a 2048-point FFT running every 32 ms on an ESP32-S3. A comb score is given to try and pick out different blade rates from 70 Hz to 2000 Hz. Multiple detection algorithms run in parallel, because [Agam] noted a problem—using an adaptive noise floor would miss drones that arrived in the area and hovered in place. With the noise not varying, it would get filtered out by the adaptive floor, so one algorithm in the four runs with no floor to catch drones that aren’t moving. Files are on GitHub for those curious to learn more.
A few weeks ago, my wife was out walking the dog, and she sent me four or five photos of small orange boxes planted all around our neighborhood. (OK, I’ll bite!) They had little cards on them explaining that they were geophones, and a QR code on them that lead to a website with all the details. Munich was getting a large-scale seismic survey to map out our underground water, with the aim of using it for geothermal heat and power in the near future.
How do you map up to five kilometers under the earth? You pound the ground, sending shockwaves downward, and then listen for their reflections. At the boundaries between different layers, the change in the speed of sound in the different media cause reflections. Calculating the time it took for a given reflection to reach you lets you figure out how deep the layer boundary is.
The seismic survey procedure goes like this: geophones are set out at roughly 20 m intervals in lines spaced around 300 m apart that run roughly north-south, while “vibrotrucks” drive a roughly east-west course, creating mini-earthquakes every 20 meters along the way. Covering a surface of 1,000 km^2 with over 120,000 sample locations and exciting them 86,000 times is going to take a while. Lucky for me, they started in my part of town.
Hot Water
Because the earth is essentially a ball of hot molten metal with a thin and crispy outer crust, and because there is radioactive decay going on even within the crusty bit, temperatures rise as you dig down: roughly 30 °C per kilometer. And Munich has this fantastic source of water that’s folded under the earth in a layer that dates back to the Jurassic, which makes it both low in dissolved minerals and sitting just around 3 km down: at 100 °C. This turns out to be the sweet spot in terms of difficulty of drilling and heat gained from doing so.
Blessed with hot water underground, the question is how to best use it. The plan at the moment is to situate a number of geothermal plants around the city, drill relatively large bore holes at each site that reach down 1 km to 2 km, and then drill diagonally down after that to spider out into a larger source of water. This “extended reach drilling” pulls from a larger heat source, prevents cool spots, and has only recently become technologically feasible.
Which brings us to the GIGA-M study. A 3D map of the underground will help plan out where to put the geothermal plants, in which directions the runners will need to be drilled, and generally how to best coordinate the resource. There were a number of individual smaller surveys done over the last 20 years, and Munich and the surroundings already have a number of geothermal plants, but this survey aims to fill in all of the gaps.
The Hunter and His Prey
It was a Thursday morning when my wife thought she heard some pounding and humming outside. She was wrong, but it got us to look at the online map, and while they weren’t in our neighborhood just yet, they were probably within easy driving distance. I threw my camera and tripod in the car and headed out.
The Big Vibrotrucks
Out in the country, just outside of Grossdingharting (you can’t make these names up!) I spotted a plume of dust rising up from a field. Was it just a farmer tilling? Or was it a vibrotruck? I drove through the woods on a logging road, and when I came out, I was nearly face-to-face with the beasts.
They were loud, and I felt the rumble when I stepped out of the car, so I ran up and asked if I could film it. They said “sure”, and I set up the tripod. The first video I shot, apparently I hadn’t screwed the camera down hard enough in the tripod, and it vibrated loose. So I ran another 20 m further and tightened everything down.
I’m not going to lie: it was exceedingly loud and very exciting. I drove back home and couldn’t wait to review the footage.
The next morning, I heard the same sound outside my own house. They were driving vibrotrucks around in the field about a block up the street. I grabbed the camera and ran out barefoot to get footage. And then Saturday morning, while cooking blueberry pancakes for the family, they drove up my street. Am I stalking the vibrotrucks, or are they stalking me?
An engineer asked if they could stand in our front yard, so I took my chance to bombard him with questions. He seemed stoked to talk about it.
Geophones and Vibrotrucks
When you stand next to one of these things, first it shakes, and then you can hear a bassy tone, and then it rises and stops. They’re obviously doing a frequency sweep, much like you would use a sonar chirp to help disentangle the multiple reflections from one another.
The sweep means that even if they receive two reflections at once, they will hear two different pitches because one signal traveled further than the other, and comes from the earlier, lower-pitch part of the impulse. It also makes for a very easy to find signature. Correlating these times of flight across the entire array of geophones gives a 3D map of the underground layer discontinuities.
You can see from a cleaned up version of the audio that they’re sweeping from something like 6 Hz up to maybe 96 Hz. The lower end sounds like distinct hammering, and the top end a humming. Here is another video, with filtered audio. Because you feel the vibrations through your feet and in your chest, the live experience is a little bit like this with more noise. Play on good headphones or with a subwoofer for maximum effect.
Of course, the time of flight matters. I asked if each geohpone had a GPS timebase, and the friendly engineer told me that they individual geophones don’t – too expensive – but that when they install one, they connect it to a laptop with GPS that records the location and sets the geophone’s clock. When they harvest them, they record the location again, dump the time to verify that the clocks haven’t drifted too much, and then pull down all of the recorded timestamped data.
Why do they drive around in pairs? It’s simply because they make twice the vibration. The two trucks are actually synced together in phase, so they emit as one. The trucks have a GPS-disciplined clock inside, so they know exactly when they start each cycle and can derive the time-of-flight to all of the receiving geophones. The rest is math.
He also mentioned that it was too bad that I only got to experience the smaller “urban” vibrotrucks like the one outside my house. I kept my mouth shut – nobody needs to know that I’m a vibrotruck stalker.
The odds are, you have a device deliberately designed to be addictive in your pocket or on the table next to you if you aren’t staring at it right now– your smartphone. We’ve seen a number of projects that try and help people control or moderate their phone usage using a variety of techniques; this vitual pet by [brenpoly] does it by weaponizing human empathy, and our bizzare ability to pack-bond with literally anything.
The virtual pet itself is based on an ESP32 in a cutesy 3D-printed case, and we think it would probably work well enough if it just had hard-coded behaviors based on hooks in what you’re doing on your phone– the “my little buddy is sick because I’m doomscrolling” should be effective enough on its own, and that part is hardcoded on the ESP32 along with the regular virtual pet behaviour–but this is the year of our Llama 2026, so there has to be an LLM in there somewhere, right?
Some people would leave this part out, but we think [brenpoly]’s use of a local LLM on the phone does improve the project. The local agent doesn’t just have access to his screen time, but his notifications, too, and runs a whisper model linked to a microphone in the virtual pet via bluetooth. So you can get the contents or a summary of your notifications without looking at your phone, or just ask the little guy to tell you a joke. Giving the pet a voice with a the local piper model is also more effective at getting you to put your phone down when you hit the limits.
They’ve put the whole thing up on GitHub if you want to make your own– and if we can keep one person from strapping themselves to a shock collar, then this project is doing good in the world. If helps [brenpoly] or any of his fans do less scrolling and more hacking, that’s even better. Of course there’s a whole spectrum between “electrocute yourself” and “lovable virtual pet” when it comes to controlling your phone use, a spectrum that includes phone stands or even smart vaults for your device.
Thanks to [brenpoly] for the tip! Remember, all of your doomscrolling is justified if you find something to send to our tipsline.
It’s said that a teenager given a rotary telephone in 2026 would be mystified by its operation, yet there are enough surviving instruments for them to be an attractive target for a project. But just what project? [fregacmols] is here with one possibility, turn that old phone into a cellphone.
Connecting to the phone is a subscriber-line interface module, containing all the electronics to simulate a copper phone line. This in turn feeds audio and control wiring to a Lilygo ESP32-S3 board which provides the brains as well as talking to a cellular modem. We especially like that this allows the phone to be used entirely unmodified.
The software does a good job of simulating a North American subscriber line, complete with dial tones, and ringing the phone’s bell on an incoming call. There are a couple of special codes, one to open a wireless network for maintenance, and the other for diagnostic purposes.
Since the Game Boy is a relatively simple 8-bit machine that runs at a leisurely 4 MHz or so, it is well within the capabilities of an ESP32 microcontroller to emulate. [Artificial-Age] got an ESP32-S3 and programmed it to do just that. However, there’s a twist—there is no screen hooked up to the microcontroller, nor any buttons. Instead, the board is accessed over a WiFi access point that it hosts itself.
One then opens a web browser, which streams the emulated video and audio from the console, while accepting button inputs from your keyboard or touchscreen, depending on the platform you’re viewing the web interface on. ROMs are stored on the ESP32’s flash storage, and can be uploaded via the web interface.
It’s an interesting setup, and one that perhaps doesn’t make obvious sense at first. After all, any modern smartphone can easily emulate a Game Boy, too. However, this setup makes it easy to share the emulator with other people, who can simply check out the WiFi AP and web interface without having to download or or install anything on their own device. We’ve featured some other fun emulation projects lately, too.
The phones! They were one of the basic utilities of the 20th century, and were just about as reliable as death and taxes. Even when then power grid went down, you still had a fair shot of getting a phone call through thanks to the reliability of the Plain Old Telephone Service.
Generally, we expect our telecommunications networks to be supremely reliable. There is no moment of the day when someone doesn’t need to make a call, particularly in emergencies, and the wheels of industry and commerce depend on constant connectivity these days. Tolerance for failure is generally very thin. Despite this, and the efforts of engineers to maintain uptime at as many nines as possible, Telstra fell badly short on July 8th, 2026. The company had a nationwide outage that affected 8.8 million people, leaving them unable to make calls or connect to the network at all.
The cause of the outage would prove to be particularly embarrassing. Telstra owns and operates a highly advanced cellular network, offering 4G and 5G service across the nation’s cities and much of its outback areas. The company may outwardly appear to be a shining beacon of modern connectivity, but there was something dank lurking in the company’s server closets. Namely, three aging network time servers that had the capacity to bring the whole system to its knees.
The NTP server in question is old enough to still rock a vacuum fluorescent display, something you don’t see on a lot of modern network hardware. Credit: Microsemi
The culprit? A Microchip Technologies SSU 2000 NTP server. The model dates back to the early 2000s. Twenty four years later, Telstra still relied upon three of the units to provide network time protocol (NTP) services across its network. The servers were generally perfectly adequate in this role on any given day. That was, until the Melbourne server had a wobble.
A technician was working in the early morning to replace a backup power feed in the chassis housing the server. This caused the server to be rebooted at 3:38 AM, which normally would not be a problem. However, at some point in the last two decades or so, the server had gone through a configuration change. While it was originally intended to be a Stratum 3 NTP server, getting its time reference from a Stratum 2 unit, that process had failed at some point. It had been reconfigured instead to use its internal GPS card to gain time directly from the satellite network instead. Unfortunately, the server was also remarkably old, and suffered from a well-documented GPS date rollover bug, such that when it rebooted, it reported the time as 2006 rather than 2026.
Victoria’s V/Line train services were unable to run, as the Telstra network outage made communication across the system impossible. Credit: Thomas Hobley, CC BY-SA 4.0
The problem that stemmed from this was because time is critical to authentication. An endless cascade of devices downstream of the NTP server picked up the wrong time, and started using it to sign digital certificates and the like. This immediately caused other systems on the network to reject the spurious traffic with certificates that were 20 years out of date. The impact was swift and vast—Telstra was quickly facing a nationwide outage affecting millions of customers.
The issue was first detected at 4:20 AM. The naughty server was isolated by 7:11 AM, but it would take until 10:30 AM to identify all the network components which had received erroneous time data. It took several hours further—until 4 PM—to properly quell the NTP issues. In the meantime, a significant portion of the country had seen its phones offline all day, and entire rail networks had ground to a halt as their Telstra-based communications systems went completely offline.
Later submissions to a government inquiry would reveal Telstra had received two reminders to patch the GPS card, in 2020 and 2022. The vendor itself had issued warnings about the GPS rollover bug as early as November 2000. A decision not to fix the bug had been taken as recently as January 2026, because the undocumented change to have the server rely on GPS time was unknown, and thus the update was considered unnecessary. Simply patching the system would have prevented the issue from ever occurring in the first place.
When the outage became apparent, Telstra notified the Triple Zero Custodian, a body founded in 2025 to oversee the integrity of the emergency service. Credit: Telstra submission to government inquiry
The issue once again brought telecommunications availability in Australia to the forefront of the conversation. Repeat outages across Australian mobile networks have led to particular concerns about the ability for people to reach emergency services by calling Triple Zero from mobile handsets. The latest failure on Telstra’s behalf has led the local telecommunications industry to issue new guidance to the public on what to do when a call to Triple Zero doesn’t go through.
Modern handsets are designed to switch to a different cellular network in the case an emergency call can’t be connected—a process called emergency camp-on. However, this process takes time, and the caller will often hear silence on the line while the phone is attempting to connect. The new advice is that callers should hang up and try again straight away if their first call to Triple Zero doesn’t connect within a few seconds. On the second call, though, the phone should be given up to a minute to find another network to get the call through.
In the case of this outage, camp-on functionality worked—some 3,200 Triple Zero calls were passed to Optus and TPG networks when Telstra’s failed. However, there were some ongoing issues that saw a further 604 Triple Zero calls fail over the period to 2 PM the next day.
Overall, Telstra’s failure was a major one. It’s rare for a major network to go down so completely and over such a wide geographical area. The fact that it happened because of an undocumented change to an ancient network appliance is all the more embarrassing. It will drive home the message that documenting even seemingly minor changes is important, with the lesson likely to be told in the halls of the Australian telco for some decades to come.
A pyrotechnic charge is set off by passing a high voltage through a filament within it, melting the filament and igniting the charge. We could think of a variety of circuits that could do this, but perhaps we wouldn’t have come up with [Michał Słomkowski]’s solution. He’s used the ringer crank generator from an old military field telephone. It’s an old project he’s shared with us due to its recent republishing on his website.
The basic principle is simple enough, winding the generator charges a capacitor bank through a bridge rectifier. Then a thyristor is used as the trigger device, dumping the contents of the capacitor into the filament. But the full circuit has a couple of refinements. There’s a charge indicator circuit using a couple of Zener diodes and an LED, and a filament tester which passes a non-triggering current through the filament from a 9 volt battery. We like the use of an over-the-top high-current thyristor, no doubt what he had in his junk box.
Perhaps it’s a symbol of how far technology has moved, that today it’s surprisingly rare to find a bridge rectifier or a thyristor, and building this device today would involve a microcontroller and probably an AliExpress inverter module as a matter of course.
The Ting FX EP-2350 by Teenage Engineering is a standalone microphone with a few extras, including samples and built-in effect presets that can be modified by the user. It also has a distinctive design, and [Sam Holland] does an in-depth teardown that offers some insights that are worth keeping in one’s back pocket. The large, side-mounted lever in particular is an interesting bit, but more about that in a moment.
Inside the device is a single PCB, which has a cutout in the middle for a pair of AAA cells. A Raspberry Pi 2350 drives the device’s functions, supported by various components which [Sam] identifies, although he mostly looks at everything from the perspective of a mechanical engineer as he critiques the design. It’s a clean-looking, intentionally low-fi design that belies how complex the device really is.
The multi-function, chunky, spring-loaded side lever is of particular interest. It has three sensors: two switches and a potentiometer. One switch detects when the lever is at rest, or depressed by any amount at all. The potentiometer mates with the pivot point of the lever, allowing the device to directly sense how far the lever is pushed. The last switch triggers when the lever is pushed all the way in. Together, it forms an intuitive input that combines powering on (the device wakes up from sleep mode as soon as the lever is pressed) with the ability to adjust effects in proportion with how far the lever is pressed, while also bottoming out with a distinct click that itself acts as an input signal.
One other interesting bit is the light pipes that carry light from multiple indicator LEDs to the outside of the device. A textured surface acts as a diffuser and helps the lit surface look smooth, while a coating of silver paint prevents light bleed and (probably) maximizes light transmission through the plastic. Hot glue makes a pretty good light pipe material but if DIY light pipes end up in your next project, sanding the exit surface and giving the rest a coating of silver paint just might be worth a shot.
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