Foreword： A while back I got bored and decided I needed a computer, a “tinkering” toy, with two main goals: Try out the latest system updates — an aggressive platform Try out all kinds of new distros After weighing things back and forth, my requirements for this device gradually became clear: It has to be cheap, the cheaper the better, and the specs as high as possible Ideally it supports various form factors — a keyboard, a touchscreen, and Linux-friendly. I mainly use Linux, since I’m already tired of Windows Durable and light, because after testing I’ll usually just toss it in a corner to gather dust Ideally some expandability and serviceability, like a ThinkPad Occasionally usable for emergency work — the kind of thing you can toss anywhere without feeling bad

Seeing this title, I have to bring up this pair of mysterious, exquisite little pieces of junk I paid a premium for from Japan. What is this thing? I wonder if you can guess. This is something I bought on a whim from Japan last year for 2,000 yen. The way you use it is so abstract that it’s been sitting in my drawer gathering dust for a long time.

Preface: Retro handhelds (open-source handhelds) have been kind of popular these past few years. I’ve bought and sold a few myself. Honestly, before this I was just following the crowd — I barely played any games on them, it was more about messing with the hardware. Lately I’ve been thinking about settling down and actually playing something seriously, so I started wondering whether I should put together a “handheld” that genuinely fits my needs. So after a whole bunch of tinkering, I ended up with a result I’m reasonably happy with. I figured I’d write it up and share it with anyone who’s had the same idea, in the hope it helps or gives some inspiration.

It’s been a long time since this happened, but I kept going back and forth on whether to write it down. Same as my experience two years ago when I got dragged into a quarantine facility for over ten days — I really wanted to write about it, and it would be meaningful, but it’s easy to get burned, to invite unnecessary trouble. Last year I really wanted to write it out and vent, but as time passed I forgot about it. Today I happened to remember, and figured I should write it after all — the whole process is not just surreal but ironic, and it also illustrates the state of most of the industry from the side, and it even calls back to some of my experiences from years ago. To avoid unnecessary trouble, I won’t mention the product’s name in this whole piece, and I won’t comment too heavily on the product’s R&D and management strategy. I’ll try to just lay out the facts plainly and let everyone judge for themselves. At the end I’ll give my short take. Of course, this is just a long dream I had last year. All the plot comes from the story in the dream, not reality. Please don’t match it to anyone real, and don’t make weird guesses.

Last time I mentioned I bought an RK3588 laptop. It used a no-name OEM chassis, but the overall experience still beat my expectations. I also mentioned that the laptop had a few shortcomings, and fixing them would be a huge improvement: Fast typing on the keyboard causes double presses (probably a chassis issue) Battery capacity isn’t big enough Build quality is a bit poor, the whole body is plastic Only one USB-A port Too much empty space inside So is there an RK3588 laptop that solves all those pain points? Yes, there is, my friend, there absolutely is.

Around May last year I was thinking about replacing the laptop I’d been using for over three years. Unfortunately, the only new stuff out at the time was either a Ryzen 7840HS with mediocre Linux support, or the new Intel Meteor Lake ThinkPads. Even though going from an 11th-gen chip to Meteor Lake would have been a big jump, Meteor Lake barely improved over the previous generation — it even regressed in places — so I decided to wait it out. While waiting, I stumbled onto this “Chinese-made laptop,” the Cool-Pi CM5 Laptop. ARM architecture, RK3588, native Linux support, 32GB of RAM, hard drive expansion, and interest-free installments on the Tmall store. I thought about it and figured I’d play with it for a bit. Ended up buying one.

Getting older, I still like looking at the pretty and the hot stuff for the eye candy, but I also like messing around with e-waste. The regular stuff just doesn’t excite me anymore. And the hottest e-waste lately is all the Linux-based “xinchuang” (信创) gear. “Xinchuang” is basically the mainland’s push for domestic everything—replacing the “Western” and “open source” stuff with fully Chinese products so nobody can strangle you with supply chain sanctions. Whether that’s realistic, whether it’s feasible, how far along it actually is—let’s set all that aside. At the very least, the xinchuang scene does enough work with and on top of Linux to satisfy a Linux guy’s urge to tinker with junk. I’d wanted a Loongson laptop for a while, but that batch of RMS-endorsed 198-yuan group-buy machines is now stupidly expensive, and the specs and pricing are just absurd. Newer Loongson laptops are also pricey, out of my league, so I just watched from the sidelines. Then a kind soul reached out a hand. With help from a certain big shot, I somehow got my hands on a “xinchuang laptop.” Carrying that person’s earnest warnings, I started my own xinchuang journey.

The Playdate is a handheld made and sold by Panic, the studio behind the well-known game Firewatch — or rather, that game is exactly what gave the team the starting capital to build this thing. As a handheld, the Playdate has a grayscale reflective display that’s supposedly on par with e-ink (no backlight), a small enough size, a yellow shell, and a button layout reminiscent of retro handhelds. It looks very refined at first glance, but the real standout is the “crank” on the side that tucks in and pulls out. This kind of control device is probably the first I’ve seen in the “handheld” category.

Last year, I think, Qingzhou Xiaoxiong—the online seller most respectful of electronic waste—listed a batch of e-ink devices: the first-generation Remarkable, at a very lovely price, probably under 600 yuan, brand new. I got excited and grabbed one, and I’ve been using it on and off as a reading and e-paper device ever since. Here are some quick thoughts.

I’ve been playing fewer galgames lately, but that doesn’t mean I’ve left the scene — I’ve just played a bunch of stuff and haven’t felt like writing about any of it. And since that last post, I’ve upgraded my “gal machine” too: swapped it out for a GPD Win Mini, which I’ve been using ever since. This little thing is honestly better than I expected. As a “gal game player,” I can’t find anything more suitable right now. I’ve said before that if I ever bought another GPD product I’d eat shit, but this little guy has somehow become GPD’s best product to date, and the “gal machine” I’d recommend most. So, well — time to eat.