Not your everyday fuel-saving gadget

"A Temple University physics professor has developed a simple device which could dramatically improve fuel efficiency as much as 20 percent", says this report on PhysOrg.com.

A couple of readers pointed the report out to me, observing that at least this one doesn't claim to be using reverse-spin antiunicorn particles, magnetising the unmagnetisable, or cracking water into hydrogen and oxygen then reacting them to somehow give more power than went in.

Next, the report turned up on Slashdot, and some more readers pointed it out to me. These readers were less complimentary.

Once again, yet again, this gadget is supposed to give "more efficient and cleaner combustion". This is apparently because the fuel's viscosity is reduced by an electric field, but it doesn't matter how the heck the "more efficient combustion" happens, because there's almost no room for improvement there.

As regular readers who've been subjected to my snowstorms of links to Tony's Guide to Fuel Saving will already know, modern engines in anything vaguely resembling a decent state of tune only fail to burn a few per cent of their fuel, at the very most.

If you're only blowing 2% of the fuel out of the exhaust valve in the first place, improving combustion can only gain you a maximum economy and/or power increase of that same 2%.

If a fuel-saver inventor bothers to address this unfortunate fact, they usually start banging on about how functionally all of the fuel might be getting burned in the engine, but their invention makes it burn faster, or more evenly, or something.

I am pleased to say that no such nonsense is being put forward by the inventors of this latest gizmo. They're streets ahead of most of the other purveyors of magnets and crystals and stickers and mothball pills, for one reason: These people are actually doing proper science. They have written up and published their research. And they're not selling anything.

You just don't see this sort of... honesty... from most mileage-gadget inventors. These guys are telling the world exactly what they did, and inviting replication of their results. This is what proper scientists always do, but it's almost unknown in the mileage-gadget world. The closest mileage-gadget people usually get is encouraging hundreds of dudes in garages to all try to finally make the first Joe Cell that actually works.

The Temple University paper is titled "Electrorheology Leads to Efficient Combustion"; it was published in Energy & Fuels, a journal of the American Chemical Society. The whole paper is available online. It's only four pages, so I read it.

I don't know whether their basic idea - that applying an electrical field to fuel actually does reduce its viscosity - is correct. They say that this definitely does work on liquids which contain suspended particles, and that the larger molecules in gasoline or diesel fuel can be regarded as (very small) suspended particles. That sounds fishy to me - molecules do not, of course, behave at all like normal visible-under-a-microscope "particles" - but the paper contains a neat graph in which a sample of diesel apparently did decrease in viscosity, from 4.6 centipoise to as little as 4.2, after electrical treatment.

(I'm assuming that they kept the fuel's temperature steady. All sorts of petroleum products become less viscous when you warm them up, and their electrical gizmo will slightly warm the fuel. But only an idiot, or scammer, would fail to control for temperature in this situation.)

If their gizmo really does reduce fuel viscosity, then it's uncontroversial that it'll also improve atomisation when the fuel's squirted out of an injector in a diesel or fuel-injected petrol engine. They tested for this anyway, and got positive results.

But now we strike a problem. Devices to improve fuel atomisation are not new. They've been around for ages. And, as Tony points out on the above-linked page, even if the fuel is a vapour when it's introduced into the combustion chamber - if it's petrol that's been pre-heated by a fuel-saving gizmo, or if the engine's running on LPG or CNG - there's only a very small efficiency gain, if any at all.

According to the paper, the inventors of the electrorheology viscosity doodad tested it on a diesel engine in a lab for a whole week, and got readily measurable economy and power gains. Then they tested a Mercedes 300D on a dynamometer, and again got a clear improvement - though they say the power output improved from an average of "0.3677 hp" to "0.4428 hp", which suggests they've either slipped a decimal point or there's some large divisor here that I'm missing. The engine would be producing substantially more power than that even if it was only idling.

(They say, by the way, that their device ought to work just as well on petrol engines as on diesel. They've only tested it on diesel so far, though. The worthless atomisation-improvers on the market today are almost always for petrol engines.)

After that, the paper says they did "continuous road tests" on the same Mercedes and found even better improvements - 12 to almost 20% better mileage. But just driving a car around is, of course, not a proper test. There's just no way for a person driving a car to drive it exactly the same way every day, and people can very easily unconsciously drive more gently when they're all excited about the new fuel-saving thingummy they just installed.

You could maybe get some better-than-nothing data if you blinded a driving-around test - nobody driving the car knowing whether your doodad was operating or not - but the paper doesn't say they did that.

The paper as a whole, though, looks almost entirely kosher to me. It seems that these people really did this stuff, and really got these results. The very low 300D dyno power figures concern me - they don't seem to make any sense at all - but that's the only part of the paper that looks really dodgy.

Research like this is all about replication - other people reading the paper and then performing the same experiment. This irons out the effect of errors and dishonesty, and over time leaves us with the truth, or as close to it as we can get. Anybody who wants to can duplicate the Temple University experiment; the electrifier device should be very easy to build, and it contains no exotic materials or physics-defying woo-woo components.

But it seems to me that the electrifier's claimed means of operation, at the very least, can't be right. Improving fuel atomisation just doesn't improve combustion, or anything else. Modern petrol and diesel engines already atomise fuel as well as is necessary, and burn very nearly all of it at the right time, in the right place, and at the right speed.

If this device actually does work - and it'd be fantastic if it did - it seems to me that it must be for some other reason.

UPDATE: When I first wrote this piece, I missed the end of this press release, which mentions that the new electronic viscosity device has already been "licensed" to an outfit called "Save The World Air".

STWA's current mainstay product appears to be the "MagChargR", which looks to me like an entirely straightforward magnetic "fuel saver". The Temple University researcher who's come up with the new electronic viscosity doodad appears to be involved up to his hips in STWA. This immensely reduces my opinion of him and of the value of his research. It seems clear to me now that he is actually in this for the money, even if he has published his method and results.

(The STWA test-results page, tellingly called "testimonials.htm" gives you the usual collection of hard-to-trace allegedly-independent tests to support the claims made by the company. As usual, in order to see if the tests are actually kosher you'd need, at the very least, to check with testing outfits identified only by a cryptic name {"CP Engineering", no Web site, address or phone number given}, or located in non-English-speaking countries - in this case Thailand and China. Or just believe the pretty graphs, which contain no information about their provenance at all.

I've taken plenty of time to look into this sort of stuff before, and I'm sick of it. Screw every single God-damned one of these people with their devices that'd be worth hundreds of millions of dollars a year if they actually bloody worked but which, strangely, they've never taken the time to have properly tested by contactable organisations in the countries where they do business.)

Unlike most magnetic fuel gadgets, the MagChargR goes around the carburetor or fuel-injection equivalent rather than being clamped to the fuel line. But, as has been demonstrated from the level of quantum physics up over decades, if not centuries, hydrocarbons are just as immune to magnetism no matter where you throw it at them. I'm pretty sure that magnets for every part of every engine have been marketed at one time or another. We'd probably know if they did anything (besides collect shavings in the bottom of the sump...) by now.

If the STWA device works as well as every other magnetic fuel saver anyone has ever tested, it does not work at all. This could explain why STWA was in 2002 enjoined by the Securities and Exchange Commission against making further fraudulent representations about their products and commercial prospects.

This action was resolved in the usual way: STWA settled out of court and didn't admit anything. It would appear that this event did not put a big dent in their business.

If I were selling a legitimate fuel-saving device, I would not choose to go into partnership with a company which, currently, proudly offers what looks to me exactly like an illegitimate fuel saving device.

News flash: Fuel cell even more forgettable than I thought!

The other day, I concluded that the Medis 24-7 Power Pack fuel-cell gadget-charger wasn't a very interesting product, based on its specifications. The spec sheet didn't make it look as if the fuel cell could do anything you couldn't do with much cheaper conventional batteries.

I'm now indebted to blogger Techskeptic, a man after my own heart except less lazy. He, as he mentions in the comments for the original Medis post, actually bought some Medis power packs and tested them thoroughly.

The results are explained in great detail in Techskeptic's final testing report, replete with the kind of graphs that I only bother to make when I'm testing something completely hilarious.

Techskeptic tested three Medis Power Packs, and found that they actually managed to deliver only about nine to 13 watt-hours into real loads. Medis claim twenty watt-hours in their literature, and it's that figure on which I based my own unimpressed response.

So these things actually appear to be even worse than they seemed.

The lousy real-world performance could be due in part to Medis optimistically listing the amount of energy the fuel cell actually (sorta-kinda) delivers on the sticker, rather than the amount of energy that makes it out of the Power Pack, down the cable and into the device you're charging. There's a DC-to-DC converter, you see, that takes the very low output voltage of the fuel cell (less than one volt) and boosts it to a gadget-charging level. And that converter turned out to be only about 70% efficient at best. Into a one-watt load, it dropped to about 60%.

So Techskeptic concluded that the Medis device didn't even beat a pack of six alkaline AAs. Actually, you'd probably get better results than the fuel cell if you hooked a similar voltage-booster up to a single humble D battery.

(Little kits to make that sort of converter, usually to allow you to replace low-capacity 9V batteries with beefier but lower-voltage cells, have been around for ages. Here's one that'll boost the output of two cells to 9V; I'm sure I've seen single-cell versions as well, but can't find one right now.)

So Medis' numbers would appear to be, at best, sort of like the old gross horsepower measurements that told you how much power a nude engine - no transmission, no air filter, no exhaust system, no alternator, no nothin' - on a test-stand once managed to deliver. This did not have very much to do with the amount of power that would make it to the rear wheels of a car powered by the same model of engine.

Another forgettable fuel cell

Medis Power Pack.

I was intrigued when I read about the Medis 24-7 Power Pack, which is billed as "The World's First Consumer Fuel Cell For Portable Devices".

But, according to my usual habit, I also assumed it was a scam.

The Medis device is, you see, relatively cheap, and disposable - you use it until it's empty, then you throw it away. There are a few other cheap(ish) single-use "fuel cells" on the market today, and as far as I know all of them to date have actually been just zinc-air batteries.

But no; Medis don't just say this product is "a fuel cell", but actually call it a "direct liquid" unit, which I presume means it's running on methanol.

[UPDATE: My readers have wised me up on this subject, now. Clearly, this is a direct borohydride fuel cell. This explains the non-refillability and disposability; DBFCs use extremely alkaline fuel which is unsuitable for handling by Joe Average, and also don't need expensive parts like platinum catalysts, which it'd be crazy to use once and then throw away.]

The fact that you have to peel some tape off the Power Pack to activate it is standard for zinc-air batteries, but it could apply to fuel cells too. It beats me why you can't refuel the Power Pack if it's actually a methanol unit, but let's give Medis the benefit of the doubt here.

Because, I assure you, there are other reasons to be underwhelmed by the Power Pack.

The overall size of the Power Pack is, you see, similar to that of three D batteries. And three alkaline Ds - nominal series-connected output 4.5 volts - are also not short of the Medis pack's rated output voltage.

Medis's somewhat fluffy spec sheet for the 24-7 Power Pack (PDF here) has a confusing graph that appears to say that the Power Pack has a capacity of 20 watt-hours at a constant one-watt discharge.

To deliver one watt, three 1.5-volt D cells in series would need to output 222 milliamps. Let's say 250 milliamps, to allow for terminal voltage falling as the batteries empty. At that discharge rate, a standard Energizer D battery (PDF, data site) has a capacity of about 13 amp-hours. Three of 'em will therefore give you something in the order of 58.5 watt-hours.

The D cells will, to be fair, also weigh a fair bit more than the Medis device. It's 185 grams when full, and apparently less when empty; they're 148 grams each, whether they're fresh or flat. But the Medis device weighs 9.25 grams per watt-hour; the simple alkalines, into the same load, manage a significantly superior 7.6 grams per watt-hour.

And then there's the price. Three alkaline D cells will cost you, what, about nine Australian bucks from the supermarket, for big-brand cells?

The Medis Power Pack will cost you $US29.95.

So the Medis Power Pack costs about $US1.50 per watt-hour. The alkalines are about 13 US cents per watt-hour.

(The Medis price, by the way, doesn't include all the cables and plugs. You have to pay more to get those, but you can of course use them again with future thirty-dollar Power Packs. The Medis FAQ says the kit with cables is supposed to cost thirty bucks, with replacement Power Packs costing only $US19.99, but they seem to have not quite hit that price point.)

Ah, but Dan, I hear you say, that's all very well, but you can't buy an off-the-shelf gizmo that accepts three D cells and has umpteen device-charger plugs, can you?

No, you can't. Well, not as far as I know, anyway. It wouldn't be rocket science for an electronics hobbyist to hack together a battery-holder, regulator and cable to make at least a single-model-of-phone 3-D-cell charger, but I don't know of any off-the-shelf products. (If you do, please tell me in the comments - a gadget that ran from C or D cells, or even a six-volt lantern battery, could be a very useful and not-outrageously-large travel charger for all sorts of small devices.)

There are, however, quite a few other options. EBay's full of "emergency chargers" that accept a single AA cell and come with multi-plugs to charge various brands of phone - delivered price, battery not included, about $US7. These chargers apparently beat an alkaline AA to death in about 90 minutes, but that means they're probably getting about 600 milliwatts out of it (PDF datasheet), for a total of about 0.9 watt-hours.

A pack of four big-brand alkaline AAs is about $AU6 at the supermarket. So even in this inelegant application, you're still only paying about $US1.44 per watt-hour for the alkaline option, plus the trivial price of the charger itself. So even overtaxed AAs are value winners compared to the Medis gadget! (Admittedly, it's only by a few per cent - but you could widen the gap with bulk buys, or cheaper almost-as-good alkalines. The single-AA chargers will probably also work fine with rechargeable cells. And it'd be easy to hack a C or D cell onto one, to get far longer run time and a much happier battery.)

Heck - for easily half the price of a single Medis Power Pack, you can get a little solar multi-phone charger, with a built-in lithium-ion battery, delivered to your door from a Hong Kong eBay dealer! I doubt the poor little battery will last a very long time if you keep sitting the device in the hot sun to recharge (these things can usuallly also charge via USB). But I'll bet you you'll get a lot more than 20 watt-hours out of it. Typical battery ratings for these devices are about 1.3 amp-hours at five volts, so you only need three cycles before you've caught up with the Medis device's capacity. Everything after that is gravy, and you paid half as much in the first place!

One Gizmodo commenter pointed out that "Medis is the miracle promising company. It has promised cancer detectors, an anti-cancer vaccine, a surgery tool, an automobile motor [...household robots, flying cars...], and now this disposable fuel cells which at *last* year's CTIA it said it would be selling last year."

(Here's a Medis press release from 1997 which says that they're making great progress with their cancer detector and breast cancer vaccine!)

If Medis are indeed basically vapour-mongers, then I suppose it's perfectly possible that they're just selling zinc-air batteries with a sticker on the side that says "direct liquid fuel cell". If this thing is a real fuel cell, you'd really think you'd be able to refill it, and not just throw the whole contraption away when it uses up its fuel.

But, just as with the misleadingly-labelled zinc-air batteries, you can't.

[See the update above for why.]

So frankly, I don't care whether the Medis 24-7 Power Pack is a real fuel cell or not. Either way, it's lousy.

(See also this piece, about the similarly disappointing but much larger Voller Automatic Battery Charger.)

UPDATE: It's even worse than I thought. As "Techskeptic" points out in the comments below, when he tested some 24-7 Power Packs he found they didn't even come close to their sticker capacity.

Further Freudian illumination

The 85-watt compact fluorescent lamp I wrote about almost two years ago now still works fine. (Though the eBay seller I bought it from has vanished.)

But that lamp now looks a little... weedy.

Huge CFL

This monster has a power rating - the actual power it draws, not the "equivalent" power that an incandesent bulb would have to draw to output the same amount of light - of two hundred and fifty watts.

(I found it in the eBay store of "DigiMate3". As sometimes happens on eBay, this store has a twin with all the same products, called CNW International.)

This lamp's output, in incandescent-equivalent terms, has to be something like 1200 watts. Since it's got the simple out-and-back design that doesn't get in its own way as much as a more compact (but in this case baroquely complex) spiral, I wouldn't be surprised if it actually shines as bright as three 500-watt halogen floodlights.

My 85W lamp lights the room it's in to about 205 lux, measuring on top of the spare bed that I use for most of my product photography. That's about half the brightness of outdoor light at sunrise or sunset on a clear day. This thing'd probably manage an easy 600 lux all by itself.

A few of these lamps would probably make fantastic workroom or warehouse lights. You could probably even power them from a normal domestic lighting circuit - many normal light sockets can deliver 250 watts safely, especially if they don't also have to cope with a 250-watt incandescent filament blasting away six inches away from the socket's plastic parts.

(You couldn't directly install these lamps in a normal light-bulb socket, because they use the big E39/E40 "Mogul" version of the Edison-screw fitting, rather than the bayonet fitting that's normal here in Australia or the "medium" Edison screw that most US light bulbs use. They're also obviously too heavy to dangle from a poor innocent domestic bulb socket, even if they'd otherwise fit; you can get simple screw-in medium-to-mogul adapters, but they don't magically make the bulb weightless. It wouldn't be a big deal to whip up a home-made luminaire to fit these lamps, though. You might even not electrocute yourself.)

You could even use these things as photo lights, though their colour rendering probably isn't all that great. The seller claims a Colour Rendering Index of 80, which ain't that bad, but might not be accurate.

I think most people who buy this things intend to use them as hydroponic grow-lights, though. I've written about this area of human endeavour before.

(Just think how much electricity would be saved if marijuana were legal, so people could grow it in their garden, instead of in their garage...)

Here's a hydroponic company being a bit sniffy about these "unbranded" lamps, which do indeed seem to be inferior to their similar...

Giant CFL comparison

...but even bigger product.

If you've found a CFL that's bigger still, do tell us in the comments.

UPDATE: It took some doing, but I managed to come up with something much more ridiculous than this bulb.

Headline: LED Spotlight May Actually Work

Sunbolt LED spotlight

When I read about the 11,000-lumen, 200-watt, two-kilometre-naked-eye-range, waterproof, $US7400 FoxFury Sunbolt 6 Mega Spotlight, I naturally assumed its specs were pretty much 100% claptrap.

It's very hard to make a super-powered LED light. Durable, efficient, bright-for-its-size, not-terribly-expensive; all that, LEDs can do. But they're not quite there for spotlights yet.

It is, however, very easy to throw around some weasel words concerning the capabilities of a non-super-powered LED light, so that's what I assumed FoxFury had done.

But I was wrong. They're actually only fibbing a little bit.

Their first bit of close-to-the-wind sailing is their claim - which I presume came from a press release, since it doesn't seem to be mentioned on the Sunbolt's product page - that the spotlight has the power of "7 car headlamps". 11,000 lumens is indeed about seven times the output of the 1962-vintage basic "H1" halogen headlamp bulb, but many more powerful and more efficient automotive lamps exist today.

The "naked eye distance vision" part is questionable, too. The Sunbolt is claimed to have an eighteen-degree beam, which at the stated maximum throw range of two kilometres will light a circle about 634 metres in diameter, with an area of 315,696 square metres. Distribute 11,000 lumens over that circle and you get 0.035 lumens per square meter, or lux.

The average dark-adapted human naked eye can see - in grainy monochrome - in light levels down to 0.1 lux; 0.035 is just barely possible, but practically speaking it's completely useless for spotlight applications. That's because dust in the beam will glow much brighter than the beam can light such a distant target.

It's possible that the FoxFury beam is sufficiently centre-weighted that there's a smaller spot in the middle that makes it to 0.1 lux at 2km, but it's disingenuous to pretend that this gives it a real, useful, two-kilometre throw. Much better to specify maximum throw as the range at which it averages one lux over its whole beam circle; going by the quoted output and beam-width numbers, that'd be a range of only about 375 metres, if I haven't flubbed my inverse-square-law calculation.

The raw power and output numbers, though, are usually where the claptrap lies in LED-lamp publicity. But getting twelve LEDs to draw (very slightly) less than 200 watts and output 11,000 lumens actually is a plausible specification, today - provided you use multi-die fifteen-watt LEDs. Those are technically each six LEDs in one package, so this is really more of a 72-LED spotlight. But who's counting.

The basic luminous efficacy number - 11,000 lumens from 200 watts gives 55 lumens per watt - is nothing special these days. If the LEDs are reasonably well-cooled then they ought to last a long time, too. They'll slowly lose brightness, which could cause problems for scientific or movie applications, but won't be perceptible to most users for a long time.

So yes, this really is a pretty serious spotlight. Don't expect it to actually create a circle of daylight at two kilometres, but the rest of the specs seem pretty much kosher to me.

In their defence, it IS pretty obvious

I do enjoy dousing the bubbly enthusiasm of a fresh-faced PR girl with a big smelly bucket of fish-water.

She said:

My name is Kristin, and I'm contacting you on behalf of Duracell to share some information about a new product, the Duracell Pre-Charged Rechargeable Battery. Knowing your interest in gadgets and technology, I'd love to send you a package to try out. Would you be interested in testing them yourself, and sharing your thoughts with your readers over the next week or so?

For more information, feel free to check out their new website, Museum of the Obvious. Museum of the Obvious is an interactive Web site which allows consumers to play games, watch videos and interact with displays and exhibits about obvious inventions, such as sliced bread, a football helmet, the oven mitt, and of course, a Duracell Pre-Charged Rechargeable Battery. Additionally, Duracell has created the following videos to raise awareness of the product:




If you are interested in receiving samples and more information, please let me know!

Thanks, and I look forward to hearing from you.

Kristin

In response to which, I said:

> My name is Kristin, and I'm contacting you on behalf of
> Duracell to share some information about a new product

No you're not :-).

Low self-discharge NiMH cells have been on sale since late 2005. The Duracell-branded ones are made by Sanyo, right?

> Would you be interested in testing them yourself, and
> sharing your thoughts with your readers

"Hey, readers! You can buy Eneloops with a Duracell label on them now! Hurrah!" :-)

Strangely enough, Kristin has not yet responded.

So I may have to pay for my next pack of AAs.

The Nothing Card

HIS iClear card

The above-pictured object is an HIS iClear Card. And I don't know what it does. It was brought to my attention by a reader who suspects it has no function at all. I think he may be right.

According to the iClear Card's product page on the HIS site, it, and I quote verbatim, "is HIS latest solution to video card noise reduction. It has an excellent implement of state-of-the-art design and technology and give you a better gaming experience by reducing the distortion and noise generated from graphic card. It reduces the noise distortion generated from high-end graphic card (from both Radeon and GeForce) or TV tuner card, which provide up to 10% increase performance on Signal-to-Noise Ratio."

And they go on. Apparently it has "State-of-the-art design". But if you look at its specifications page, the only spec it seems to have is a name.

I suppose the "state of the art" part is because it plugs into a PCIe x1 socket, not boring old PCI. It's a bit hard to see in the picture, but I think it also has contacts for all of the PCIe x1 pins, too. But all it seems to have to connect to any of those pins are six capacitors and a few tiny surface-mount components, all sitting in the corner of an otherwise empty rectangle of fibreglass.

So I suppose it's meant to be a power supply smoother, or something. It's within the bounds of possibility that noisy DC input could have some sort of effect on the performance of a video card, if only making it less overclockable; putting a few more caps across the input rails would help with that. But many modern video cards get most of their power directly from the system PSU; hanging some caps across the PCIe power rails won't make any difference to that.

And I'm entirely at a loss regarding how this has anything to do with "noise reduction". Most PCs these days have a 100 per cent digital data path for the video subsystem, so there's no need for noise reduction at all. Software tells the graphics card what to do, it figures out what colour all of the pixels should be, and then it communicates that information to a monitor via a digital link. "Noise" doesn't enter into it, here; if there's enough noise to actually affect even one pixel of the signal, the result will probably be a completely blank screen or a hideous mess. The effect of noise in digital systems is either zero or catastrophic; there's nothing in between.

Perhaps the iClear Card is s supposed to make analogue "VGA" video less noisy. But I've never seen even VGA video that actually was noisy. I've seen distortion from cheap VGA extension cables and blurriness from the inescapable failure of CRT screens to display square pixels on their non-square phosphor, but not noise.

Alexey Samsonov at Digit-Life spoiled the fun by actually reviewing the iClear, testing it in the one application where it'd have the best chance of doing something - when a low-quality analogue TV tuner card is trying to tune a weak signal, but a video card a couple of slots over is emitting RF noise and making it difficult.

And lo and behold - the iClear actually did something!

For almost the entirety of almost every signal-to-noise-ratio graph in the review, the "without iClear" and "with iClear" lines are right slap bang on top of each other. But here and there, at certain frequencies, the without-iClear line actually does dip below the other one. In a couple of places, by as much as three decibels. And it never goes above the other line, which suggests that the differences aren't just experimental error.

I'd be interested to see what happened if you just plugged a completely blank card into the slot between the video card and the tuner, though. As long as the card has a ground plane and one lousy contact hooking that sheet of featureless copper up to the system ground, I suspect you'd see a similar reduction of noise at certain frequencies. You'd think that if the capacitors were really doing something, there'd be at least a small signal-to-noise improvement across the whole spectrum graph. That's what HIS is claiming, after all, insofar as their claims are comprehensible at all.

Apparently Newegg have been giving iClears away for free with purchase of a video card, which implies that the card has not been a major commercial success.

At least they're not claiming it makes your hi-fi sound better.

[UPDATE: Boing Boing Gadgets presents X-Maple pixel-flutter reduction block for PCIe!]

Not yet tested: Barbed wire, train tracks

A few people have e-mailed me to mention this Consumerist post, which links to an Audioholics forum post which I could have sworn I myself linked to a while ago, though I may be mistaken. All of the "audiophile" bulldust kind of merges together in my mind after a while.

Anyway, the gist of the post is that fancy Monster-brand speaker cables "sound" the same as wire coat hangers, as any electrophysicist would tell you they would, but as the entire fancy-audio-cable industry insists they would not.

(Wire hangers are not, of course, actually very practical for most speaker-cabling tasks. Numerous less dramatic tests have demonstrated that so-called audiophiles can't tell the difference between fancy cables and lamp cord.)

But wait, there's more.

Here is a test of wire hangers versus fancy cables for home theatre digital interconnect applications, which turned up similar results. Again, this is entirely unsurprising from a physics point of view, but is completely contrary to the heated claims from many magic-cable vendors.

I invite you to link to any other, similar tests in the comments.

(Actually, despite this post's headline, I'm pretty sure that someone actually has tested rusty old barbed wire against "audiophile" cables of one kind or another. I do know for a fact that sending hundred-megabit Ethernet over barbed wire was a pretty well-known demo back in the days when 100BaseT was super-technology.)