THE CURSOR DID NOT BLINK, and the reason is worth stating: it blinks on the machine's clock,
and the machine's clock had stopped. A console waiting on a key stops the CPU, so no cycles
passed, so the phase never moved - and the one moment somebody is looking at a cursor is the
moment they are being asked to type.
Waiting is now charged as IDLE CYCLES, which is what they were built for: a machine stopped
on a device is not using memory, the same distinction WAIT makes, arrived at from the other
direction. And the devices are told as it happens rather than when the instruction finally
finishes, because a display controller does not stop blinking because the processor is
waiting on a keyboard, any more than a disk stops turning.
A keyboard file can now say NOTHING happened. A zero is a byte no keyboard sends, so it is
free to mean "a moment went by with nobody typing" - which is the commonest thing behind a
window and the only thing a file otherwise could not express. That unlocked the whole waiting
path: three checks that the cursor is lit, then dark half a second later, then lit again,
which is what blinking is.
And Programs/Examples/colours.asm, because the palette had nowhere a newcomer could read it.
It prints the sixteen pairs, prints each one again turned inside out, and then CHANGES ONE by
writing three bytes into the palette - so the difference between using the colours a machine
wakes up with and choosing your own is visible in one program. Its header explains what a
cell is, what the attribute nibble does, why palette entries are four bytes rather than
three, and why video memory has to be reached through the controller.
The manual now says where the palette lives and points at it.
SplitLint found a redundant RSTA in the example, which was worth acting on rather than
suppressing: the zero was already in A from the mode write two lines up, and saying so in a
comment teaches that SETD does not touch A, which is a thing worth knowing.
Co-Authored-By: Claude Opus 5 <noreply@anthropic.com>
Claude-Session: https://claude.ai/code/session_01E2JrLzFvuFX9fgi1LDRjrW
COLOUR COSTS A NIBBLE AND NO HARDWARE. A glyph is drawn in palette indices 0 and 1, paper
and ink, and a cell's attribute nibble adds sixteen to both - so sixteen banks is already
sixteen ink and paper pairs, and all that was missing was a register saying which one the
console draws in. That is port 0x06, read as well as written like the rest.
The palette a machine wakes up with is arranged so that HIGHLIGHTING IS ONE BIT: banks 0 to
7 are colours on black, banks 8 to 15 are the same colours as paper with black ink. So
attribute XOR 8 turns any pair inside out. That is a convention rather than a rule of the
machine - the device only ever adds the nibble and looks the answer up - but it is the
convention that makes a highlighted line and a cursor free.
Bank 0 is still grey on black, so nothing that was written before this has changed colour.
THE CURSOR IS THE SAME BIT AGAIN. It is drawn by turning its cell inside out rather than by
putting a block over it, so the character underneath stays readable, which matters to
somebody editing a line. The device draws it rather than the window, because on a machine
with a screen a cursor is a hardware feature - one drawn by the presenter would not be in a
picture the machine saved.
It blinks on the machine's own clock, half a second each way, so the phase is a pure
function of the cycle count and a screen saved at a given cycle is the same screen every
time. A blink on the host's clock would have made every saved picture a matter of luck.
Off unless asked for, with bit 2 of the control port. That is right for a machine - a
program painting its own screen does not want something blinking in the middle of it - and
CosmOS asks for one at boot. It also asks again when it takes the console back from a
program that has stopped, because a program handing key mode back the way it was told to
writes zero, which turns the cursor off. The shell owns the prompt, so the shell is what
makes sure there is something blinking at it.
Nine more checks in Tests/video.sh, to 41: that the attribute colours the ink and not the
paper, that XOR 8 turns both, that it reads back, that a cursor appears where the registers
put it and only when asked for, and that it goes dark again half a million cycles later.
Co-Authored-By: Claude Opus 5 <noreply@anthropic.com>
Claude-Session: https://claude.ai/code/session_01E2JrLzFvuFX9fgi1LDRjrW
BACKSPACE REACHED THE SHELL. A terminal in line mode does not hand a program every
keystroke: it collects a line, rubs out a backspace, and delivers the finished thing at
Return. CosmOS has always relied on that, and behind a window there is no terminal to do it,
so the raw 0x08 went into the command buffer. Correcting a typo produced a line that looked
perfectly right on the screen and matched no command at all - "I do not know: help".
So the console does it, because behind a window the console IS the terminal. In key mode it
does not, and must not: a program in key mode asked for every keystroke as it happens.
CosmOS now asks for eighty columns at boot. Its own help text is seventy-four characters
wide, and dir, the monitor and the assembler's messages all assume room. The machine still
wakes up in the smaller mode, which is right for a machine - it is the system that knows
what shape of screen its own output needs, and a game that wants forty columns says so.
AND A FILE CAN BE A KEYBOARD, which is the part that matters beyond today. The console
behind a window is not the console behind a terminal, and until now the difference was
unreachable: it broke twice in two days and a person typing found it both times. --keyboard
installs the same hook a window does, so the same path runs, and the manifest has a column
for it. cosmosTyped types "halp", backs over it, arrives at "help", and requires the help to
come out. Verified by removing the rub-out, which loses the whole help text.
It does not test the window. Voyager's key queue and everything about presenting frames are
still out of reach. It tests the console, which is where the logic is.
Along the way: VOY_OBJS was missing from the dependency include, so voyager.o never rebuilt
when a header changed. EmulatorOptions grew a field, Voyager kept an object that disagreed
about the size of the struct, and smashed its stack on every run. A clean build hides it and
'make sanitize' cleans first, so that would never have found it either. Tests/voyager.sh did,
by failing all 115 tests that start the machine - which is the differential test earning its
keep on a bug that has nothing to do with what it was built to check.
Co-Authored-By: Claude Opus 5 <noreply@anthropic.com>
Claude-Session: https://claude.ai/code/session_01E2JrLzFvuFX9fgi1LDRjrW
The console had grown an ANSI parser, and that was the wrong shape. ANSI exists because a
screen used to be on the other end of a serial line and a byte stream was the only channel
there was. This screen is memory the program can already address, so reaching it by sending
characters for a state machine to take apart is a middleman for something the machine does
better - and it meant accepting an open protocol somebody else defines, in hardware, with no
natural end to it. Everything else on this machine is registers.
So the console gets three: cursor row at 0x03, cursor column at 0x04, and a command port at
0x05 where 1 clears the screen. Both cursor registers are READ as well as written, which is
the thing an escape cannot do without sending a query and parsing a reply - a routine that
wants to put the cursor back where it found it can now ask.
Clearing is one command against a thousand cells walked one at a time. Snake and Life are
smaller for it: 2,168 bytes to 2,163 and 1,410 to 1,396.
A HOST TERMINAL STILL SPEAKS ANSI, and bridging to the host is the emulator's job, the same
job it does reading standard input. So the escapes are now GENERATED, outbound, for the set
this device chooses, rather than parsed inbound as though the machine were a terminal. The
set cannot grow behind our backs because we are the ones saying it. The cursor is announced
lazily, at the next character rather than at the register write, so setting a row and a
column costs one sequence rather than two.
The console's block widens from three ports to six, which registryTest noticed: it had been
asking about port 0x05 precisely BECAUSE nothing was there, and the console had just moved
in. Re-blessing it would have left it checking nothing, so it asks about 0x80 instead -
clear of the console, the disk, the screen, the controller, and the sound device coming to
0x40.
Six checks in Tests/video.sh swapped from the sequences to the registers, including that the
cursor reads back and that one sent past the edge is clamped rather than refusing. Those
checks also stopped counting bytes from the ends of a file, which had quietly started
measuring an escape the moment the console began announcing the cursor.
SplitLint caught the one thing worth catching in the port: the clear command leaves A at 1
and key mode is also 1, so the second load looks redundant. Acting on it would tie a console
command to a console mode by coincidence, and break silently if either ever moved, so it is
suppressed with that reason rather than removed.
Co-Authored-By: Claude Opus 5 <noreply@anthropic.com>
Claude-Session: https://claude.ai/code/session_01E2JrLzFvuFX9fgi1LDRjrW
Three things Snake found the moment somebody ran it in a window, and all three are the same
kind of mistake: the console grew a screen and kept asking the terminal.
IT COULD NOT CLEAR THE SCREEN. Every program here that moves a cursor does it with ANSI
escapes, because until there was a screen the thing on the other end was somebody's
terminal. The controller drew "[2J" as three letters and left the board underneath. It now
parses them, which is what a video terminal did - a VT100 is exactly this. The whole corpus
uses two, ESC[2J and ESC[H, and the general shape is recognised so anything else is
swallowed rather than drawn: a sequence nobody implemented should leave no marks. Cursor
positioning is in too, since it is the same parse and one line more.
IT DID NOT SEE KEYS FROM THE WINDOW, but did when the terminal behind it was focused, which
is the whole diagnosis in one sentence. Snake polls the READY bit and never blocks, and
consoleFetch - what the status port asks - was polling standard input regardless of whether
a front end had installed a hook. So a window's keys were invisible to every program that
looks before it reads, and a keystroke aimed at the terminal would be picked up instead.
The hook now takes a question. Zero is the status port looking, and must not present or
sleep: a program polling in a loop would otherwise be charged a frame for every glance. One
is the data port blocking, where presenting is exactly right, because a machine waiting for
a key is still a machine somebody is looking at. One value for both would have made either
polling ruinous or waiting dead.
AND IT RAN SLOWLY, which was the same bug wearing a hat: a game that never receives a
steering key is a game that only ever goes one way.
Six more checks in Tests/video.sh, to 32: that ESC[2J clears, that ESC[H goes to the corner
without disturbing what is drawn, that ESC[3;5H counts rows and columns from one, and that
an unknown sequence is swallowed and leaves nothing behind.
The hook itself is still the one thing here the suite cannot reach - it exists only when
there is a window, and this host has no display. It was found by a person playing Snake,
which is where the Test Manual says these go on being found.
Co-Authored-By: Claude Opus 5 <noreply@anthropic.com>
Claude-Session: https://claude.ai/code/session_01E2JrLzFvuFX9fgi1LDRjrW
The console is now a display controller as well as a port: it owns a font, keeps a cursor,
handles newline, carriage return, backspace and wrapping, and scrolls. That is an ordinary
kind of chip - it is what a video terminal's character generator did - and it is the reason
this rung needed no changes to CosmOS at all. CosmOS already writes bytes to port 0x00.
It writes to BOTH the screen and standard output, which is deliberate. A machine with a
screen and a serial line is an ordinary machine, the emulator's standard output is that
serial line, and one console drives both. It is also what keeps all 165 recorded results
passing under Voyager, and what makes --screen work on the plain SplitBit: there is one
console and it drives everything it has.
Scrolling moves the video device's origin and no memory. The row arriving at the bottom is
cleared because the map is a ring and it holds what was there 128 rows ago; the rows going
off the top are not, and that is a hundred rows of scrollback nothing had to keep. The test
reads the register back rather than looking at the screen, because a console blitting rows
instead would look identical and cost twelve percent of a frame for every line printed.
The font is vendored from Hatchet-GPU with a note saying where it came from, since that
repository is not part of this one. 135 glyphs in ASCII order, which is the thing that makes
it worth keeping - PETSCII's whole inconvenience was that its order was not ASCII's, so a
machine using it needed a translation table in front of every string. Here the machine
subtracts 32. It is stored one bit a pixel and expanded into tile memory at reset: 1,088
bytes against 16 kilobytes.
Voyager gets a keyboard. A window has no standard input, and a machine blocking on it inside
a frame would stop drawing and stop answering, so a front end with a window installs a hook
that the console calls while it has nothing: it keeps the window alive and hands back a key.
The hook has to tell "nobody has typed yet", which happens sixty times a second, apart from
"the window has gone", which is the end of input - one value for both would have made the
first keystroke look like a closed machine. In line mode the console echoes what it is
given, because there is no terminal behind a window to do it and that was always the
terminal's job.
Tests/video.sh grew from 14 checks to 26, half of them about the console rather than the
device: those programs ask the video device for nothing and write bytes to port 0x00 like
every SplitBit program always has. Verified by breaking two things - removing the scroll
failed exactly the two checks about scrolling, and removing the cursor advance failed
exactly the three that depend on it.
Two video checks had quietly depended on palette entry 0 being black, which stopped being
true the moment a machine woke up able to show text. They now set what they are about to
look at, and a new check pins the waking state itself.
Co-Authored-By: Claude Opus 5 <noreply@anthropic.com>
Claude-Session: https://claude.ai/code/session_01E2JrLzFvuFX9fgi1LDRjrW
A tile engine on ports 0x30 to 0x3F, bringing one bank of video memory registered the way
the disk's buffer is. The CPU writes cell indices and the device turns them into pixels,
which is the whole reason a screen is affordable at a megahertz: a frame is 16,667 cycles,
a full 320 by 200 picture is 64,000 bytes, and a 40 by 25 map is 2,000. A program that
changes two cells writes four bytes. The cost of a screen becomes the number of cells that
changed rather than the number of pixels on it.
Which makes colour depth free, so the tiles are eight bits: an 8 by 8 cell is 64 pixels and
each picks independently out of 256 colours, with no per-cell limit of the kind that made a
Spectrum two and C64 multicolour four. The low nibble of a cell's attribute is ADDED to
every index in its tile, sixteen at a time, so a tile drawn in 0 to 15 appears in any of
sixteen schemes without a second copy in tile memory - and a tile wanting all 256 leaves the
nibble at zero and gets them. Neither use costs the other anything.
Two decisions are arithmetic rather than taste, and both come from the machine having no
multiply. A map row is a page whether the mode fills it or not, so a cell address is the row
number as the high byte and the doubled column as the low byte with no arithmetic at all;
otherwise every cursor move on a 40 column screen would cost a row-times-40 in software. And
a palette entry is four bytes rather than three, so entry n is at n times four, a shift.
THE MAP IS A RING and the Scroll register says which of its 128 rows is on top. Scrolling
moves a register and no memory: blitting a 40 by 25 screen up one line is 1,920 bytes inside
one bank, which is twelve percent of a frame even with the controller widened, and a program
printing one page would spend six frames shuffling memory. It is now one port write - and
the rows that scrolled off are still there, which is where a terminal gets scrollback it
never had.
The device is part of the machine rather than part of the window. It renders into a buffer
that is a pure function of video memory, so the same program draws the same picture with
nobody watching; Voyager puts that buffer on the glass and decides nothing. Both binaries
take --screen, which saves a PPM when the machine stops, and that is what makes a screen
checkable on a host with no display at all.
Tests/video.sh checks fourteen named behaviours rather than comparing a recorded image,
because a recorded image would say "something changed" and leave which of the palette, the
tile, the attribute, the map or the scroll register broke to be found by hand. Verified by
breaking three things in turn: the additive nibble failed exactly one check, the scroll
origin exactly two, and moving every cell one pixel sideways exactly the four about
placement.
Tests/docs.sh could not count past nine, which is how a suite of ten scripts reported
itself as wrong for the wrong reason.
Co-Authored-By: Claude Opus 5 <noreply@anthropic.com>
Claude-Session: https://claude.ai/code/session_01E2JrLzFvuFX9fgi1LDRjrW
Until now the only way to restart was to stop the emulator and run it
again, which meant the one thing the machine could not do was the thing
Once was written for. The loop now closes without leaving it:
> Once /System/Boot/bare.bin
next start: /System/Boot/bare.bin, once
> Reboot
starting again
stage two
just this once: /System/Boot/bare.bin
bare metal: no system, just this
Writing 1 to port 0x13 asks the machine to start over. A PORT RATHER THAN A
SERVICE, because a reset has to work when the system does not: something
only askable through SWI would be unavailable in exactly the case that
wants it most, and a program that owns the whole machine has no system to
ask. It is device class 0x04, in the range kept for the machine rather than
among the peripherals, because it is not one - it is not attached to
anything and cannot be unplugged.
WHAT A RESET REPEATS IS HOW THE MACHINE STARTED. Named an image, the
emulator places it again; named none, the ROM is shadowed again and reads
the disk. Anything else would mean a reset changed what the machine IS,
which is the one thing a reset must not do. Both are tested.
Taken between instructions, because a device cannot restart the machine
from inside the instruction that asked: the CPU is part way through a step
and its state is not yet anything a reset could leave behind consistently.
The disk stays attached and keeps everything written to it - that is what
warm means. The vector table is cleared, which is the one deliberate
departure from leaving memory alone: a vector points into whatever
installed it, and after a reset that program is not running, so a handler
left behind would aim an interrupt at an address belonging to something
gone. It is the argument CosmOS already makes at exit, applied to the
machine.
Reboot is 45 bytes, most of them the word it prints.
The disk's status has always had a bit meaning "still going", and the header
beside it has always said to honour it. Nothing did, because nothing could: the
host finished the transfer inside the instruction that asked for it, so the bit
could never be seen up and asking about it was asking about something that
cannot happen.
--disk-cycles gives it a latency. The command is still checked at once, because
a refusal is not work - a block that is not there fails before any head moves -
but the transfer is remembered and done when the machine has run that far. Until
then the buffer holds the block BEFORE this one.
That last part is the point. A program that does not wait gets the wrong bytes
rather than an error, which is the failure the bit exists to prevent and the one
that would never have shown up. With a latency of two thousand, CosmOS could not
even mount: sbfsMount reads block zero and looks straight at the buffer.
deviceTick is the general shape rather than a disk feature. Called once per
instruction with the machine's clock, it lets anything whose moment has come
finish - which is what a display that refreshes, or a port that waits on the
host, would want in exactly the same way.
The filesystem watches the bit now, in one small routine reached with RCAL. That
is not decoration: what it hands back is the settled status in A, and CALL puts A
back the way it found it, so an ordinary call cannot carry the one thing this
exists to carry. Two bytes of Stack rather than ten, in a routine that runs on
every block the machine ever touches - the first place in the system where the
new call is the right one rather than merely a cheaper one.
The manifest takes a @N after a disk, the way it already takes :ro, so a test can
ask for a slow one. cosmosSlowDisk lists a directory at two thousand cycles a
block and gets the same listing as everything else, which is the whole assertion:
a filesystem that did not wait would print nonsense rather than fail.
Zero is the default and every other test runs at it. What waiting costs, on a
directory heavy run: 229k cycles at zero, 275k at five hundred, 415k at two
thousand, 1.16M at ten thousand.
Co-Authored-By: Claude Opus 5 <noreply@anthropic.com>
Claude-Session: https://claude.ai/code/session_01E2JrLzFvuFX9fgi1LDRjrW
AnachronautandClaude Opus 5
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