Persistence in the face of recurring failure characterises both the history of handheld computing and the desire to realise it. Handheld computing has made repeated appearances in so much of our popular media, from the original Star Trek television series in 1966 to contemporary spy thrillers and science-fiction books and films. It is now undergoing a reboot, leaping hurdles where before it would trip and fall flat on its face, its four chunky AA batteries spilling out onto the floor.

The fascination behind handheld computing is not difficult to understand. Though its record has been turbulent, marked primarily by disappointments, momentum has been rekindled primarily by the Apple iPad and, to a lesser extent, e-readers (such as the Amazon Kindle) and large smartphones that blur the sharp distinction that used to exist between mobile telephone and mobile computer. A renewed focus on both the hardware and software fronts is whetting the appetite of gadgeteers and the casual consumer alike. The iPad made quite a splash, but the computer trade show Computex 2010, which ran through the month of June, has made greater waves.

Computex, held annually in Taipei, has not failed to make an impression on anybody looking out for progress in the mobile computing marathon, with devices falling firmly into three categories: Mobile Internet Devices (MIDs), pads and tablet computers . MIDs tend to be smaller (with screens under 10 inches) and usually have a stylus for handwritten input. While Computex is usually associated with the unveiling of new desktop technology, this year’s show turned that expectation on its head and became the vehicle for a renewed mobile computing craze, with big name companies’ prize showcase items being the portable systems due to hit shelves shortly.

It has been said that the vast array of tablets and MIDs on display at Computex merely constituted as catch-up and that wouldn’t be far off the mark. Handheld computing stalled horribly until Apple announced their iPad. It seems that this road has been worn in before with MP3 and MP4 (video capable) players. MP3 players existed for half a decade before the iPod trotted onto the scene and hoisted its victory flag, but only since then have we seen real innovation in portable media players, with many now being able to play full HD video on tiny 4-inch screens (these are predominantly popular in China). The iPad might have done the very same to the handheld computing industry: giving it that sense of competitive urgency which is so often the cause of innovation and advancement.

So, it all seems swell and soon we’ll be ditching our desktops for good, right? Well, not quite. While the general outlook is undoubtedly positive there still remain obstacles that need to be hurdled, the most vital being battery life. While portable computing, from notebooks to netbooks and now tablets, pads and MIDs have charged ahead, packing in greater levels of power into increasingly cramped spaces, battery technology has fallen miserably behind. Most devices will use lithium-ion polymer technology, which first appeared in consumer electronics in 1996. While efficiency has increased, it’s still dismally limited. We’re waiting for the next big battery breakthrough. The price hurdle has been all but cleared, but less can be said about performance. While tablets and MIDs today are usually good for simple tasks like web browsing, emailing and reading e-books, multitasking will almost certainly bring your handheld computer to its knees. Software also poses another challenge, with desktop computing simply having all the important and necessary software. Tablets – and especially MIDs – are dragging their feet in that department. While legions of enthusiastic people have coded applications for the iPad iOS and Google’s Android mobile OS, we have yet to see the kind of professional expertise comparable to desktop software giants enter the fray with quality programs written primarily for mobile computing needs.

But at least now we are able to hold a functional tablet computer and not feel so distant from the future technology envisioned by Star Trek. At least now we can hold a handheld computer, do stuff on it and feel like Captain Kirk, or some high-tech spec-ops spy or any other tablet-wielding character out of the vast archives of popular fiction.

What’s even better is that it’s only going to get better.

Words: Hugo Stanford

Steganography’s history is written in blood and war. In 494 BC, Histiaeus, the ruler of the ancient city of Miletus, tattooed a secret message onto the shaved head of a slave. He waited for the hair to grow back before sending the slave to the recipient, who again shaved the head and revealed a message containing instructions for an Ionian revolt against the Persians, a revolt that would last for half a century. In 480 BC, Demaratus carved a secret message into a wooden table which he then painted over in wax. The wax, scraped off, revealed a warning of Persian attack. The wax did not simply obscure the message – it obscured the very existence of the message; this is the essence of steganography.

Evolving in parallel with technology, steganography has traditionally found its greatest application during war time. Invisible ink was used by spies in World War I. In World War II the Germans used microdots, shrinking of an entire page of text into a 1-mm dot, placed inconspicuously within an otherwise unremarkable document. Quite suddenly, steganography was on a very sharp rise, becoming a tool with myriad applications, a few good and most bad thanks to the arrival of the Internet.

The good applications include digital watermarks hidden in a photograph for copyright protection, or the protection of confidential information by hiding it in an unexceptional medium. The long list of bad includes the proliferation of child pornography and hacking and gaining control over another’s computer. Of course, not every use falls squarely into those two categories. Journalists can use it to conceal sources. Dissidents can use it to evade government censorship. It can even be used to bait and trap criminals across a wide variety of crimes. An example would be the well known Thatcher typewriter trick, where British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher had government typewriters altered to encode specific user information in the spaces between words in order to catch the person behind the leaking of cabinet documents.

The wide range of applications of steganography has ensured its ease of use and access. There are thousands of tools available on the Internet that can create steganographic messages. They come in user-friendly, self-contained packages and in no more than two mouse clicks and you’ve hidden your message in another medium. A password in an image; a plagiarised essay in an MP3 song file; stolen credit card numbers in a freely available movie trailer. There has always been a limitation to this though: file size – and by extension, the length of the message. You wouldn’t try to hide a pirated pre-screening of a new hit movie in an image file of your cat. That wouldn’t fool anyone with its thousand megabyte footprint.

Footprints have been where steganography tripped up – until now. In all the previous examples, a trail is left. The image will always contain the offending document. The slave’s head will forever have the hidden message printed upon it. In each example, a specific carrier was required and message length limited. The slave’s head: the message can only be so long. The image of your cat: how many megabytes can you explain away before someone gets suspicious? The moment an outside party knows that a message is concealed, the disguise becomes ineffective.

A new form of steganography sidesteps these issues, one that communicates the hidden message over Internet Protocol (IP), which specifies how and where information travels over a network. The IP contains the virtual addresses of a sender and recipient and governs the method by which the message is sent. Think of it like postal system addresses but online in a virtual world. Communication between these two IPs is done in the form of packet switching. This is the breaking down of information into tiny chunks which are then sent through the network to the recipient’s computer. By manipulating delays in the packets sent, this type of steganography can transmit a hidden message simply through patterning delayed packets so that only the appropriate decoding software on the other end can recognise these delays – to anyone else, they would just look like packet delays; normal Internet lag. Now the message sent can have limitless length – it just depends on how long the connection stays open between two computers. You could be chatting with a friend on MSN Messenger for an hour and secretly be receiving a book’s worth of piracy resources. That you had received the information would also be virtually untraceable. In fact, it is nigh impossible to even ever be sure that a hidden message is being transmitted because packet delays are the norm.

The almost total security of the anonymity of the hidden message has potent implications, especially for criminal applications. The hidden message can be anything – instructions for a bombing, access codes to a bank’s vault. Or – and more likely – it could be a Trojan – a program that grants somebody else total control over your computer. The packet delay system of steganography means that virus scanners may no longer be able to detect viruses until they have already been transmitted to your computer, by which time it may be too late. What’s even more worrying is that this usage of steganography is perhaps the least of our concerns.

By the way – there is a hidden message in this article.

Words: Hugo Stanford

To some, overclocking is the Formula One of computer culture. To others, it’s the track. But one thing is for certain – overclocking is about pushing your computer the hardest, the fastest – pushing the limit. It’s not underground, but those in the know are few.

Overclocking is to a computer what tuning is to a car: it makes your computer go faster, perform better. Computers contain components that run at rated frequencies which, put simply, indicate speed. Overclocking is forcing the component to run above-spec at a higher frequency, usually by injecting more voltage. Heat becomes a limitation. The solution: exotic forms of cooling such as dry ice or liquid nitrogen.

Local talent, A.H., who is a fixture in the Hong Kong overclocking community and insists on being credited only by his initials, has been tinkering with computers nearly his entire life. “I started messing around with computers when I was about five or six years old. I’ve been benching since the year 2000.”

Benching, or benchmarking, is the process of measuring an overclocked system’s total performance via bespoke software; a yardstick so that comparisons between computers can be made. It’s the limit to some – the high score to smash to others.

Jody cools his CPU with some liquid nitrogen.

Renowned Canadian overclocker Jody “3oh6” Bailey is known the world over for his ever improving benchmark scores and is no stranger to setting the bar. Seriously benching since 2005, Jody is part of team PURE, arguably the world’s top overclocking team comprised of a star-studded international cast. You might initially scoff – a team of computer tuners? But make no mistake – overclocking is fiercely competitive.

“I know some guys that are competitive to the point of flaw in this community,” Jody says. “I tend to compete with myself and the hardware, not so much against others as that can lead down a path that ends ugly.” The aim of the game is to push your computer the hardest, hitting higher frequencies, scoring better on benchmarks.

To many, it’s as exciting as a professional sport. Just as how the competitive gamer is driven by having the number one spot in the high score list in his sights, overclocking is about pushing yourself as hard as you push your hardware and fiercely topping the competition.

It’s also on the brink of becoming a full-time profession. Competitions are held, sponsors inject serious money while teams and individuals battle it out, both live and via meticulously regulated submissions to online databases, to see who can squeeze out that last morsel of performance. World records are made and broken in matters of weeks, sometimes days – fame is fickle.

A.H. is part of the inner circle of HK overclocking. “In the past 2 years I’ve been very publicly active, participating in Gigabyte’s overclocking competition as well as their P45 Plug-fest and various other local competitions and overclocking shows. I’ve been in very close contact with almost all the big names, we’re all good friends,” he says. He tells us of the integrated nature of components in a computer: “The older generation of overclockers are more into the tweaking factor and gaining true performance by eliminating bottlenecks in the whole system.” Benchmarking programs punctuate this whole-greater-than-sum philosophy, where total efficiency is paramount – not a drag race but a Nürburgring lap.

“Generally younger overclockers do it because it’s ‘trendy’ and it makes them seem clever among their friends,” he comments, and to some extent, Jody agrees. “It is always funny to see newcomers talking about how easy it would be to break world records with access to the hardware the top guys have,” Jody says. “Picking up a professional quality golf club does not mean you will shoot a 70. Overclocking is like any other sport. Endless hours, days, weeks, months, years of testing and learning go into every single bench session, every single benchmark run. Overclocking is all dedication, 100% and then some. It is a lifestyle that requires tremendous sacrifices from those competing at the top level.”

That top level consists of those few keen minds that turned a field of interest into a field of expertise. An inner circle was formed and knowledge was selectively shared. Though growing media attention on the international level is slowly breaking down the walls erected by the inner elite, Hong Kong seemingly lags behind.

“Overseas, if you show passion then people will accept you,” says A.H. “However, in Hong Kong it’s quite different, I think it’s due to the culture. You really need to prove yourself before you get accepted, which overall lowers the standard of overclocking in Hong Kong.” “There are definitely people in this community that like to put up walls,” Jody tells, disapprovingly. “They like to draw divisions. A lot of it is garbage and completely childish.”

But it’s not all bad. Jody is teamed up with an international cast including two big names out of Taiwan: Nick Shih and Andre Yang. Even Hong Kong’s “TinTin” of OCQQ.com is on team PURE. “The gap between Europe, Asia, Australia, and North America is non-existent in the community we have built,” Jody says. Technology’s always going to get better, get faster, and people are always going to push the limits. As sponsorship and big money comes into play, Jody sees parallels with another cultural explosion: “This new beginning, I like to equate the overclocking community right now to the skateboarding community of the 70s and early 80s. It is definitely an exciting time and I look forward to seeing how it plays out.”

Like skateboarding, overclocking also has its superstars. “Guys like Nick are absolutely tearing things up. Andre Yang is like a god walking among men. Asia has always had a bright future.”

Many of the top Asian overclockers come out of Taiwan, and Hong Kong is little represented. “You would expect a bigger overclocking group to come out of the country but it just hasn’t happened. It really is surprising,” Jody remarks.

A.H. lends insight: “In Hong Kong the support we get from manufacturers is close to zero, and everything needs to be self funded. Hong Kong has potential to become a top ranked country – there is no reason why we can’t. We just need more support from manufacturers. Taiwan has a large number of overclockers mainly because of the manufacturer support they receive.”

So things boil down to the same, tired problem: funding. While in Europe and the US, top overclockers are often commissioned by big-name companies to do promotional overclocking and receive free hardware, in Hong Kong most overclockers are self-funded, sacrificing anything to buy a bit more liquid nitrogen cooling, a better clocking RAM stick. Perhaps that’s why the Hong Kong overclocking community is not so embracing of newcomers – because reputations are established with the blood, sweat and tears of self-funded individuals – the top-heavy hierarchy doesn’t help.

“Hong Kong has the potential to be a top ranked country.” How often have we heard that before? We all know potential doesn’t necessarily translate to success, and it’s not for lack of skill or passion.

Words: Hugo Stanford

Zeno Clash – the different game that got away (because it never sold [because it was never supported by publishers.])

Sequels saving the day, you say? Let’s take a look.

The last few months has seen huge releases of highly anticipated sequels. Mass Effect 2, Aliens vs. Predator, Bioshock 2, Battlefield: Bad Company 2, Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2, Stalker: Call of Pripyat etc. The list goes on. What do these games all have in common? Not all were comparable to blockbusters of the cinema world (a dying breed, at that). Not all oozed quality and all around awesomeness (AvP, I’m looking at you, you disappointingly disabled successor.) What they all had in common was the hype they generated, the seed of anticipation they planted months or years ago early in development, watering fruitfully and generously, so that, when release date came, hordes of tired PC gaming vets (and even some consolers – are pigs flying?) once again dipped their hair trigger forefingers back into the PC puddle. It was a puddle that once was drying and coated in a film of slimy mold, but these sequels have been the rain that, for the time being anyway, has washed that all away.

But are sequels really saving the day? Or just keeping a punctured boat afloat? New game ideas and franchises just don’t really cut it these days, no matter how original the concepts are. Look at Zeno Clash, that wondrously weird thing that featured first-person hand-to-hand in a wonky, distorted world. It got great reviews, but has anybody heard of it? Borderlands was supposed to be different, but all the difference amounted to was fancy cell-shaded graphics, not even all that different since XIII did it what seems like aeons ago to largely the same shrug-it-off effect. Global Agenda was supposed to be the next Team Fortress 2, Tribes and Battlefield all in one glorious package. Does anyone even play that? Metro 2033 has seen some success, it’s game atmosphere receiving raves from reviewers all over. But still, it’s hardly something new. Stalker: Shadow of Chernobyl did that years ago too.

The point to all of this is that when games try something new, something unique, it often doesn’t fly with publishers. These game become independent games (Braid and World of Goo being two lovely examples) because publishers don’t see profit$ in them. Instead, we get the same old re-releases of old games on new and improved technology (virtually guaranteeing that your 2 to 3 year old computer won’t be able to run it without complaining.) If we take a look at some upcoming, guaranteed to be big-hit games, we can see that they are all sequels: Civilization V, Splinter Cell: Conviction, Prince of Persia: The Forgotten Sands, Mass Effect 3, Mafia II… you get the picture.

Now comes the argument analogous to chickens and eggs. Is it that the publishers of games – where the money is – don’t want to take risks, don’t want to try something new and instead stick to the same old stuff? Or is it that gamers are stubborn creatures of habit, never wanting to stray far from familiar gaming ground so that they might – once again – play through a parallel and all-too-similar story in a game which features all-too-similar mechanics? Who started this slippery slope of weak standards? Sure, Mass Effect 2 was a really great game. It was basically a new story plugged into Mass Effect 1 with all the annoying game mechanics stripped out (and some new annoying ones put in) which was basically a redo of Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic in a new game universe. They are the same games with slightly different stories. The above mentioned are BioWare games – stinking of good quality and lacking in real innovation. There are also Valve games (Half Life, Half Life 2, etc.) There are also Ubisoft games (Mirror’s Edge, Prince of Persia, Assassins Creed). Those last 3 are particular offenders as they all involve killing people acrobatically, shamelessly milking the Parkour craze presumably until it is dried up and mummified.

Maybe PC gaming is stuck in some blockbuster-obsessed loop. Though it is nowhere near the money maker that cinema is, the film industry has seen some change over the last decade. Blockbusters are no longer a huge emphasis. Massively funded projects are getting fewer. Attribute it to the economy? Perhaps. But now we see films like Coens’, or Boyle’s that reach mainstream audiences with great success but do so without the gimmicky, gaudy razzle-dazzle the likes of Transformers gives us. Are we waiting for the same movement in PC games? We no longer need huge story arcs, massively epic tales of universe-saving-or-shattering proportions. Let’s get some real character story, some real and clever gameplay mechanics. Perhaps we already missed that boat (Grim Fandango, Monkey Island series, Fallout 1/2), but nobody said it couldn’t come round again.

I might just be a bitter, tired and idealistic PC gamer, who clings onto games of old (the only game I play today is one that was released in 2001). These sequels are saving the day. They are keeping the industry afloat, keeping it profitable, but only barely. The problem is that it has become a closed loop – only games that are likely to be profitable (and what is, in these pirate laden days?) are ever invested in so we get the same old stuff re-released under new names. I suppose the problem is nothing new, but it won’t stop me from bitching about it.

-HS