Ichigojam - A Living Fossil in the Integrated Circuit Forest (1)

On this trip, I traveled to Japan to seek out a living fossil in the integrated circuit forest.

The image above shows Ichigojam’s official store in Akihabara. It usually opens around 2 or 3 PM and closes at 7 PM along with the Tokyo Radio Department Store building. (Although the official business hours state 12:00 PM, it opened later on all the days I visited during my 10+ day stay.)

Perhaps it’s because it’s only targeted at Japan? All the resources I found online were in Japanese, which is also why I recently started learning Japanese, as the shop assistants couldn’t understand English very well when I asked them questions.

This board features an NTSC video output and a PS/2 keyboard input, along with an on-board MCU. Through this simple combination, a basic computer is pieced together. (The USB port on top is actually for PS/2 input. I found it strange when I first got it, as not every keyboard supports transmitting PS/2 signals via USB.)

I suppose it’s because devices with these interfaces are easier to find in Japan? It aligns with the philosophy of the ZX80: simple, inexpensive, and plug-and-play with equipment you already have at home. (Even if you can’t find a PS/2 keyboard, you can easily find one by just browsing through a second-hand store; Japan’s second-hand market is much better developed than Taiwan’s.)

Unfortunately, this board runs a closed-source system written by its creator, and prohibits “redistribution without modification (i.e., sharing)”. Seeing this situation was a bit disappointing, but I deeply admire his philosophy, which inherits the spirit of Commodore and ZX80/Spectrum. After all, Commodore also never open-sourced its ROMs; the only difference is that Commodore used a dedicated video driver chip, while this development board implements RCA video driving within the MCU.

As a computer science major, studying older technologies might be a means to learn. After all, standing still in today’s era of rapidly advancing technology is a form of “regression,” and to achieve “excellence,” I might have to abandon many things that are highly meaningful to me.

Actually, I originally harbored the extravagant wish to buy a used Family BASIC, but then I unexpectedly discovered this small computer that I’ve wanted since junior high. It’s rare to find such a “living fossil” in 2023, and it’s truly hard to let go. I’m also very curious about the era (like Commodore) when buying a computer would even include a “programming manual” and circuit diagrams. Systems weren’t as complex as they are now, variability was low, reconfigurability was high, and technical principles were often within reach.

This trip to Tokyo lasted 17 days. During these days, almost every day, after completing my morning itinerary, I would rush to Akihabara around 6 PM, before the Tokyo Radio Department Store building closed, to buy things I had researched the previous night (I suspect the store owners might have almost recognized me). Aside from a few days when I traveled to more distant places, I essentially headed to Akihabara every afternoon. At night, before going to bed, I would open my notepad and start researching online what materials and boards I might need to buy the next day, and what best fit my ideals.

This computer can do many things… If I connect an EEPROM, I can store files and programs in the IC just like on a cassette tape. If I connect an ESP-01 with AT commands, I can chat online via IRC over TCP and connect to servers. If I use a USB module, I can access images and data from USB. Because it’s a “computer,” there’s nothing you can’t do if you can imagine it (as long as you’re willing to put in the effort).

So, why?

Lately, I’ve been reflecting, and this is also why I wanted to spend 17 days searching for and researching this. For a long time, I’ve had a sense of impending crisis: “What if, one day, this thing can no longer be used?” While many current development boards, SBCs, and FPGAs can solve or implement similar things, I still can’t let go of this concern.

This doesn’t mean I don’t want to progress or achieve excellence. I would say, “I am moved by past technologies.” I often have a fondness for technology whose principles are easily understood.

As mentioned earlier, its characteristics are “plug-and-play, no system installation required, and no setup needed.” This is also based on that philosophy, because you can’t casually sudo rm / on it; you can’t do that on Ichigojam, it doesn’t have that kind of functionality.

I once did something this foolish: running rm / on a Mac.

The specific concept was inspired by the predicament of Hundred Rabbits. They are an art and media studio whose workspace is on a boat. In the early days, when their boat was sailing in the middle of the ocean, there was no internet or support whatsoever. Thus, due to various difficulties and reasons, they decided to change their development approach. This sustainable development approach and computing deeply moved and resonated with me.

So, for me: superficially, it’s about sustainability, but in reality, it’s a form of unease and fear about the future. Upon learning that the Ichigojam system is closed-source and has licensing restrictions, I felt a sense of dread. Furthermore, after practical testing, I found that Hundred Rabbits’ more sustainable end-solution – Uxn – cannot be directly implemented on Ichigojam unless the RAM is expanded. This poured a bucket of cold water on my enthusiasm for this computer.

Conclusion

After this, I will likely continue to research ways to expand Ichigojam. If there’s new progress, I will update it in a new article.

I am also attempting to change my writing style, transitioning from didactic exposition to storytelling. I hope that by changing my previous writing approach, I can, as much as possible, use stories to present the meaning and value behind projects.

That’s all.