More from Ian's Blog
This post is a living diary of all the times I messed up something with my website in a funny way. I value those who have the confidence to own their mistakes and share the learning with others, and so this is me doing just that! That Time I Accidentally Made a Tarpit That Time I Accidentally Made Really Large Headers That Time I Accidentally Made a Tarpit Back to Top A "tarpit" is an unofficial term used in computing to describe an intentionally slow response to a request. In these modern times many people are using tarpits as a way to combat the relentless theft of data by AI companies, although there's little to no evidence of that actually being in any way effective. I don't use tarpits, at least not intentionally, but there was that one time when I accidentally created a tarpit and trapped all visitors in it. As I've shared previously, I refuse connections from IP addresses that are blocked or belong to a blocked subnet, and I enforce this firewall during the TCP handshake. The logic here is straightforward: there's no reason to waste resources doing a TLS handshake, accepting an HTTP request, and then rejecting the connection if I already know I'm going to reject it at the earliest step. At the time, the code worked like this: the HTTP server would repeatedly call the Accept() function below expecting a new connection. I've added some comments to help explain the logic. func (l *firewallListener) Accept() (net.Conn, error) { // Accept the connection from the TCP listener. This blocks until there is a connection to accept or the listner was closed. conn, err := l.l.AcceptTCP() if err != nil { return conn, err } // Separate the IP address out from the remote address (which includes the port) ip := utils.SocketStringToIPAddress(conn.RemoteAddr().String()) if ip == nil { return nil, nil } // Check if it's blocked, if so close the connection and return a refuseError if IsBlocked(ip, true) { conn.Close() return nil, &refuseError{} } // Otherwise return the connection on to the HTTP server return conn, nil } If the incoming connection was from a blocked IP then I'd return a refuseError. I need to use a specific error interface because the HTTP server will halt if it encounters a non-temporary error from the call to Accept(), so I need to return an error that satisfies the definition of a temporary error. I defined refuseError like this: type refuseError struct{} func (e *refuseError) Error() string { return "." } func (e *refuseError) Timeout() bool { return true } func (e *refuseError) Temporary() bool { return true } func (e *refuseError) Is(err error) bool { return err == context.DeadlineExceeded } This did accomplish the goal of rejecting connections before the TLS handshake for blocked addresses, but it had one really unintended and difficult to track down side-effect. Accepting connections is done serially, after which servers typically then process that request on a dedicated thread (or in Go's case a goroutine). This means that any delays during the accept loop will block all incoming connection. What I had missed while reviewing the code for Go's HTTP server is that when it receives a temporary error from Accept() is that while it doesn't abort, it does sleep for up to a maximum of 1 second. This sleep blocks the entire server for all incoming connections. You can see a trimmed copy of the code that does this below, with some marks I've added which I will explain. // src/net/http/server.go // Copyright 2009 The Go Authors. All rights reserved. // Use of this source code is governed by a BSD-style // license that can be found in the LICENSE file. for { // (1) rw, err := l.Accept() if err != nil { if s.shuttingDown() { return ErrServerClosed } // (2) if ne, ok := err.(net.Error); ok && ne.Temporary() { if tempDelay == 0 { tempDelay = 5 * time.Millisecond } else { tempDelay *= 2 } if max := 1 * time.Second; tempDelay > max { tempDelay = max } s.logf("http: Accept error: %v; retrying in %v", err, tempDelay) // (3) time.Sleep(tempDelay) continue } return err } connCtx := ctx if cc := s.ConnContext; cc != nil { connCtx = cc(connCtx, rw) if connCtx == nil { panic("ConnContext returned nil") } } tempDelay = 0 c := s.newConn(rw) c.setState(c.rwc, StateNew, runHooks) // before Serve can return // (4) go c.serve(connCtx) } At mark 1 the server calls the Accept() function, this is the exact function that I defined above where I might return a temporary error. At mark 2 it checks if an error was returned, and if so if that error is temporary. If there was a temporary error, at mark 3 it sleeps for an increasing amount of time up-to 1 second, otherwise, at mark 4 it processes the connection on a dedicated goroutine, which allows the server to accept the next connection. I'm not entirely sure why the Go developers added this sleep delay and the change when it was introduced doesn't provide any meaningful insight. Regardless, it caused significant latency connecting to my website when a flood of rejected requests was coming in. It just goes to show how important it is to write meaningful commit messages, because you never know when somebody might come back years later wondering "why was this done?". I sure home I don't come to eat those words later. Coincidentally, you can actually see this happening if you look carefully at one of the metric graphs I shared in my first post about my server's security model: Securing My Web Infrastructure. This is the graph I shared in that blog post and while I didn't know it at the time, the fact that these request spikes all cap-out at around 60 requests per minute was not a coincidence. These requests were not being made with a limit in mind, attackers rarely ever care about things like that, instead it the accidental tarpit I had created. The downside to this was that while the malicious requests were being rate-limited, all requests were being rate-limited, up to a point of taking so long they timed out. The Fix Fixing the issue was relatively straightforward enough. Instead of returning a temporary error to the HTTP server during the accept loop, just don't return anything at all and wait for the next valid connection. func (l *firewallListener) Accept() (net.Conn, error) { for { conn, err := l.l.AcceptTCP() if err != nil { return conn, err } ip := utils.SocketStringToIPAddress(conn.RemoteAddr().String()) if ip == nil { return nil, nil } if IsBlocked(ip, true) { conn.SetLinger(0) conn.Close() continue } return conn, nil } } Now, when the HTTP server calls Accept(), the only time it returns is with a connection from an IP that isn't blocked, or if there genuinely is an error. No more sleep delays, no more excessive timeouts. That Time I Accidentally Made Really Large Headers Back to Top For about 10 years now all major browsers have support for a security feature known as a Content Security Policy or CSP. A CSP is an HTTP header provided by the server that instructs the browser on where it can load assets from, this could be scripts, images, stylesheets, fonts, etc. The objective of using a CSP is to prevent against injected HTML that tries to load assets, such as a malicious Javascript file, from a remote source. With so much user-provided content being available online, it's very possible for this to happen without an attacker compromising the entire web server. CSP protects against that by saying "scripts can only be loaded from these domains". That's a really simplified way of looking at it, anyways. My web server supports injecting the CSP header automatically, but before I go on I need to explain a little bit about the structure of my web server. When an incoming HTTP request is accepted (having passed all firewall checks and assertions), we look at the destination host for the request. This can either be the value of the Host header or as specified during the TLS handshake. We then look at a map of hosts to apps. Apps are just an interface that accept a few methods: type App interface { Cleanup() ReloadConfig() ServeHTTP(rw http.ResponseWriter, r *http.Request) Setup(dataDir string) error Shutdown() } One of the apps is the Proxy app, which is a reverse proxy - it accepts the incoming HTTP request and then proxies it on to another host. This is a very common design, especially with increasingly complex TLS setups. Because each app is unique to a host, and different hosts have different requirements for CSP rules, the proxy app includes a CSP preset that we use to build the header value, or skip it entirely. When the proxy app was going to copy an HTTP request to the downstream host, it would build the CSP header, however there was a slight bug... func (a *App) ServeHTTP(rw http.ResponseWriter, inRequest *ht2.Request) { // --snip -- if a.CSP != nil { a.CSP.ConnectSrc += " " + inRequest.Origin } CopyHttpRequest(inRequest, outRequest, rw, CopyHttpRequestOptions{ Origin: inRequest.Origin, Csp: a.CSP, Cors: a.CORS, AddHeaders: !a.SkipHeaders, UseHTTP3: a.UseHTTP3, InsecureTLS: a.InsecureTLS, }) } I'm really unsure as to what I was doing with the line to append to the ConnectSrc, but the impact is that I'm appending to a variable that lives on the App, rather than a variable that is per-request. This meant that every time there was a request to the app, any request at all, the origin would be appended to the header value. This went on for quite a long time unnoticed and unresolved, largely because I am constantly tweaking and tinkering with my web server, after all, it's how I made having a website fun again. Each time I restarted the server process, the header value would be reset, but only for it to continue to grow and grow. Eventually, after a period of being busy with other matters, the server process stayed running for long enough that the header value grew too large and HTTP clients began to reject it. There is no defined maximum for an HTTP header value, however most HTTP clients use 100KiB, which is perfectly reasonable, and this header value would continue to grow well beyond that. Diagnosing this issue turned out to be difficult as tools like Curl would fail with errors relating to entities being too large, but stopped short of saying what specifically. I eventually used openssl s_client to send an HTTP request by hand and observed my terminal window being filled with a domain name repeated thousands of times. Looking at the commit history, it was really unclear why I added the culprit lines of code. The commit message just says "Improved CSP support". It just goes to show how important it is to write - hey look it's those words I'm now having to eat! The Fix The fix was to just delete those three lines of code. Yup, it really was that simple, and fixing this bug actually made a larger positive impact than I had expected, as it was immediately clear when I fixed the bug by looking at outbound network bytes: So much traffic was being wasted on excessive header sizes. You might look at these mistakes I've made and think "wow, Ian, these are some obvious mistakes, I never would have made them!" to which I say "good for you!" with the utmost sarcasm and disdain. I enjoy making and refining software, and making anything means making mistakes along the way. Each time I make mistakes such as the ones above, I improve my skills of investigation, diagnosing, and repair. Skills that, judging by my peers in the industry, seemingly everyone is quickly willing to throw away because a robot does it "better" than you. Header Image: "Car accident on the Ffestiniog to Bala road. Nobody was hurt" by Geoff Charles, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons.
On March 30th 2016 the first commit of TLS Inspector, back then called Certificate Inspector, was made - and just shy of two weeks later version 1.0 was released. Now, 10 years later, TLS Inspector celebrates its 10th year, and I've got some exciting changes to share with you all. A Not-So-Quick History The original idea for TLS Inspector came about when I was travelling on a passenger ferry between Vancouver Island and mainland Vancouver. The operator, BC Ferries, provided free WiFi at the time, which was useful as cell service is spotty out in the water. However, this free WiFi wasn't working right, as all TLS Connections were failing with untrusted certificates (even though no captive portal was being presented). I looked in the App Store for any app that could help see what was going on, and found nothing but a one, very limited app filled with in-app-purchases. "I could probably write something like this myself", I thought, and so began TLS Inspector. In 2017 the app caught the attention of cryptologist Kenn White, who reached out to me and provided invaluable feedback. After a short and intensive development cycle, TLS Inspector graduated from a small proof-of-concept into the tool it is today, with release 1.5 being the first where the app gained widespread use. Originally named "Certificate Inspector", the app was renamed to "TLS Inspector" after DigiCert issued a cease-and-desist over the use of the name. In many ways, I felt that this was a good thing in the end, as the new name better reflects what the app is truly about - inspecting the entire TLS connection - not just certificates. Modernization In August 2023 I began work on implementing support for DNS over HTTPS within the app, however this feature never came to realization. Instead, my attention shifted into focusing this new-found DNS energy towards a new app, DNS Inspector. Even though TLS Inspector never got this feature, I did gain one piece of valuable insight from the effort; the realization that TLS Inspector's codebase was quickly aging, and was at serious risk of being left behind. When TLS Inspector was first released, Swift was still a very new language, and those familiar with Swift's early days will recount the growing pains it had, where every year there were major breaking changes to the language and APIs. In addition, Swift did not offer functional interoperability with C for many years - this made using Swift in TLS Inspector anywhere from impossible to incredibly difficult. As a result, Objective-C was used. However by 2019 Swift has significantly matured, and so I was comfortable splitting the app into two components - a Swift-based UI and an Objective-C based backend. Despite its maturity, its C interoperability was still very new and, frankly, very bad, so this design made sense. Apple has been investing an immense amount of time and effort into evolving and growing Swift, and they could not be more clear that the future of Apple Development is exclusively on Swift - SwiftUI is a great example of this. DNS Inspector was my first official SwiftUI app, and served as a validation test for both me and the platform, to answer the question of "do I feel it's ready?", and the answer was yes. Today we finally mark the completion of our transition to Swift, as TLS Inspector 3.0 written 100% in Swift, including all interaction with C libraries. Three-Point-O Let's get one thing clear right away: the experience you've come to expect from TLS Inspector is not changing. This effort to completely rewrite the app was also done with a strong desire to not change how the app worked. I, like many of you, dislike when a tool you may rely on suddenly changes how it works. Tradespeople don't just wake up one morning to suddenly find that their hammer had a software update and now it works entirely differently, why should TLS Inspector? I'm making a point of stressing this because I'm being quite serious when I say that this update is a total rewrite of the application. Nearly every component you see below has been substantially to entirely rewritten. And no, before you ask, the phrase "biting off more than you can chew" means nothing to me. TLSUI Before I get into talking about what changes I made, I want to clarify what I mean when I talk about things like SwiftUI or a "Swift-based user interface", because those sound like the same thing. So, buckle up, because it's time to learn about UIKit. Ask anyone who'd developed a native desktop application for macOS (no, not Electron) and they will absolutely gush about how much they love AppKit, and you can count me among one of those people! When Apple was building iPhoneOS (which later became iOS), they naturally wanted to reuse what they could from OS X, AppKit being no exception. However, as countless designers will tell you, user interfaces designed for touch screens absolutely do not work for traditional keyboard-and-mouse PCs. Apple knew this, and forked AppKit over to UIKit so the two could diverge cleanly. UIKit was, and I suppose still technically is, how you make native user interfaces on iOS apps. Apple provides you with three ways to work with UIKit: Do it entirely in code by yourself Use Xcode Interface Builder (.nib and .xib) Use Storyboards Storyboards are just a fancy way of joining together xibs, so realistically 2 and 3 are the same thing. When referring to the "Swift-based User Interface" of TLS Inspector before version 3.0, I'm referring to option #3 above. TLS Inspector previously used storyboards with UIKit for the entire UI. Initially being written in Objective-C and later ported over to use Swift. SwiftUI, however, takes a different approach. SwiftUI is Apple's attempt at modernizing the user interface tooling provided to developers by dropping interface builders and storyboards, and going all-in on declarative interfaces. As mentioned earlier, DNS Inspector was a test for me to see if I felt that SwiftUI was ready for da big leagues (as we say in the biz). The answer was a confident mostly sorta kinda yes. It's very clear that Apple is pouring a lot of resources into building out SwiftUI, and with every iOS release it gets better! The problem is that with every iOS release Apple changes things, and I hate when they do that! Unlike when Apple releases a new version of The Swift Language, SwiftUI is a runtime framework, which makes supporting old iOS versions quite annoying. Although, to be fair, I'm sure people found AppKit annoying during its early years. I only hopped on the UIKit train after it had almost 10 years to mature. SwiftUI has a lot of extremes. On one hand, it makes creating List-based interfaces (which used UITableView before) such a breeze, but at the same exact time there's bizarre limitations where your best bet is to just abandon SwiftUI and fall back to UIKit elements. Anyways, enough history and preamble, let's finally talk about the new user interface: As I said about 8 billion words ago, the goal here was not to dramatically change TLS Inspector - just to give it a gussy up, at most. The Main View The main view of the app has been tidied up, primarily by removing the Tip section. Let's be real, you don't need to be reminded that you can inspect websites from other apps every single time you use TLS Inspector. The advanced inspection parameters can be accessed by tapping on the gear (or cog, if you speak metric). Response View The response views are largely unchanged aside from adding more information. The app now highlights the root certificate in the chain as well as performs a reverse DNS lookup on the remote address. The trust details view has been tidied up to provide more direct information about the trust situation. Additionally, specific trust failures will also have what I call "Safety Warnings", which highlight when common indicators-of-compromise have been detected, directing users to engage with Apple support or a trusted friend. A "quick exit" button will immediately exit the app. Certificate Information The certificate information screen has been somewhat reorganized, moving the alternate names right to the top, and improving support for new "subject-less" certificates such as those issued by Let's Encrypt. In addition, there's several new datapoints provided: The results from CRL or OCSP checks are now displayed The source of the certificate is displayed (if the certificate was sent by the server or found on the device) All X.509 extensions are displayed, even those not understood by the app TLSKit TLSKit is the name of the "Backend" of the app - this is a Swift Package that performs all of the inspection tasks, collects and presents the results. Previously TLS Inspector used CertificateKit, which was a classic Objective-C based framework for accomplishing the same goals. However, CertificateKit contained some of the oldest and (in my opinion) worst code of the app. It was a frequent source of crashes and locked me out from enjoying new features with Swift Packages since it used legacy code and legacy tools. TLSKit is more than just a Swfit-rewrite of CertificateKit, however, because I took this as a perfect oppertunity to go back to the drawing board and rethink how the backend should work given how the app works today. Remember, CertificateKit contained some of the oldest code, back from before I really knew what I was doing or what I wanted TLS Inspector to be. External Dependencies A major hurdle that proved as a total "Go/No Go" test for this rewrite was the ability to use external dependencies in a Swift package, namely Curl and OpenSSL. After doing some initial research it appeared as if Apple had finally added proper Foreign function interface (FFI) support in Swift. This means one could directly invoke C function calls in these libraries within Swift without the need for an Objective-C bridge. However, in my effort to utilize Swift Packages, I needed to find a way to link to precompiled static libraries. To solve this puzzle, I reached out on the Apple Support forums, and with help from the fine folks there we were able to untangle this mess and get things working. An exciting prospect I plan to work on after 3.0 has stablized is moving away from OpenSSL towards using WolfSSL. This will also unlock the ability to inspect QUIC connections, something not currently possible in the app. It Takes A Village To say this was a massive undertaking for just one guy who does this part time is an understatement, and it's clear that I never could have done this alone. I cannot wrap things up here without giving my sincerest of thank you to the following: David (aka Catfish_Man), for their incredible patience and guidance helping me with the Swift 6 transition. Quinn (aka "The Eskimo"), for repeatedly helping me get through difficult tooling challenges on the Apple developer forums. All of the people who helped test the app. You helped me catch some real nasty bugs early and provided such great feedback. ChatGP- nah just kidding. could you imagine though? lol.
Turns out buying Air Pods from eBay is risky, who knew? Well, clearly I didn't because I totally fell for one. I was looking to pick up some used AirPods Pro 2 to use while out on walks or whenever my usual over-ears wouldn't be comfortable. I found a decent-enough looking listing that was selling a "opened and used once, but otherwise new" set for only 30% off what Apple is asking. Seems fair, right? Wrong. What arrived in my postbox were counterfeits, and I'm left out of pocket (at least, until eBay processes my refund request). In the meantime, I went and did what I should've done from the start and just bought a genuine pair from a retailer, partly because I still actually want a pair, but now also because I want to compare the two side-by-side and show you all the differences. The Packaging The front of the counterfeit box is actually very well done. The printing is close enough to the real one that without a genuine to compare against you'd have a really hard time telling if its fake. The box is even embossed correctly. Remember that these were sold to me as having been opened, so the fact the box is a little smushed doesn't really mean anything. The rear of the boxes is where we start to begin to see differences, although nothing immediately telling of a fake without a genuine box to compare against. It's interesting that the fake box does not show the USB-C cable like the genuine one does. Note: I had already unsealed the fake box. The box arrived sealed and in plastic shrink-wrap. The genuine box did not come in plastic wrap. The bottoms of the boxes begin to show some of the key differences between a real and fake box. On the real box, Apple has printed all information to the box itself, including the serial number. The fake box uses stickers for everything. The contents of the box don't give away too many clues. I had unwrapped the included charging cable myself for reasons you'll see later, it was wrapped when I first opened it. The bud bits additional tips contain a few clues, notably the worse printing the size labels and the lack of the indentions in the packaging. The Charging Case The exterior of the case reveals no clues. The only visual difference is the difference in assembly location (which I wouldn't be comfortable saying identifies it as a fake), and the different typeface used for the labels. This is very hard to identify without a known-good comparison. However, while impossible to demonstrate with pictures, the feel of the fake case is notably worse than the real one. The fake case rattles when you shake it and sounds hollow when you tap it. The real one feels dense with no rattles. Inside the case looking at the serials we start to see some more key differences. While my phone's camera is doing no favours to the image, the printing quality on the fake pods is notably worse. In addition, note the lack of input and output power requirements The Individual Pods This is where the counterfeits really begin to standout. Whoever made this case did a really good job, but whoever did the pods did not. Genuine AirPods have vents on and around the body. These aren't just for style, and are actual grills. Fake AirPods, like mine, just use styled plastic fillers. In addition, the pre-installed tip should include its size embossed into the rubber Lastly, a very important thing to check, the serial number of each individual pod should be unique - it should not match the serial of the charging case. These are three individual products each with their own serials. Apple should label all 3 on the box, instead the only label the charging case. The Hard Evidence Taking the serial number of the charging case, M6WYX2HJKR, and putting it into Apple's warranty check tool, I am presented with irrefutable evidence of the forgery: USB-C, you say?
Securing My Web Infrastructure A few months ago, I very briefly mentioned that I've migrated all my web infrastructure off Cloudflare, as well as having built a custom web service to host it all. I call this new web service WebCentral and I'd like to talk about some of the steps I've taken and lessons I've learned about how I secure my infrastructure. Building a Threat Model Before you can work to secure any service, you need to understand what your threat model is. This sounds more complicated than it really is; all you must do is consider what your risks how, how likely those risks are to be realized, and what the potential damage or impact those risks could have. My websites don't store or process any user data, so I'm not terribly concerned about exfiltration, instead my primary risks are unauthorized access to the server, exploitation of my code, and denial of service. Although the risks of denial of service are self-explanatory, the primary risk I see needing to protect against is malicious code running on the machine. Malicious actors are always looking for places to run their cryptocurrency miners or spam botnets, and falling victim to that is simply out of the question. While I can do my best to try and ensure I'm writing secure code, there's always going to be the possibility that I or someone else makes a mistake that turns into an exploitable weakness. Therefore, my focus is on minimizing the potential impact should this occur. VPS Security The server that powers the very blog you're reading is a VPS, virtual private server, hosted by Azure. A VPS is just a fancy way to say a virtual machine that you have mostly total control over. A secure web service must start with a secure server hosting it, so let's go into detail about all the steps I take to keep the server safe. Network Security Minimizing the internet-facing exposure is critical for any VPS and can be one of the most effective ways to keep a machine safe. My rule is simple, no open ports other than what is required for user traffic. In effect this only means one thing: I cannot expose SSH to the internet. Doing so protects me against a wide range of threats and also reduces the impact from scanners (more on them later). While Azure itself offers several of ways to interact with a running VPS, I've chosen to disable most of those features and instead rely on my own. I personally need to be able to access the machine over SSH, however, so how do I do that if SSH is blocked? I use a VPN. On my home network is a WireGuard VPN server as well as a Dynamic DNS setup to work-around my rotating residential IP address. The VM will try to connect to the WireGuard VPN on my home network and establish a private tunnel between them. Since the VM is the one initiating the connection (acting as a client) no port must be exposed. With this configuration I can effortlessly access and manage the machine without needing to expose SSH to the internet. I'm also experimenting with, but have not yet fully rolled out, an outbound firewall. Outbound firewalls are far, far more difficult to set up than inbound because you must first have a very good understanding of what and where your machine talks to. OS-Level Security Although the internet footprint of my VPS is restricted to only HTTP and HTTPS, I still must face the risk of someone exploiting a vulnerability in my code. I've taken a few steps to help minimize the impact from a compromise to my web application's security. Automatic Updates First is some of the most basic things everyone should be doing, automatic updates & reboots. Every day I download and install any updates and restart the VPS if needed. All of this is trivially easy with a cron job and built-in tooling. I use this script that runs using a cron job: #!/bin/bash # Check for updates dnf check-update > /dev/null if [[ $? == 0 ]]; then # Nothing to update exit 0 fi # Install updates dnf -y update # Check if need to reboot dnf needs-restarting -r if [[ $? == 1 ]]; then reboot fi Low-Privileged Accounts Second, the actual process serving traffic does not run as root, instead it runs as a dedicated service user without a shell and without sudo permission. Doing this limits the abilities of what an attacker might be able to do, should they somehow have the ability to execute shell code on the machine. A challenge with using non-root users for web services is a specific security restriction enforced by Linux: only the root user can bind to port at or below 1024. Thankfully, however, SystemD services can be granted additional capabilities, one of which is the capability to bind to privileged ports. A single line in the service file is all it takes to overcome this challenge. Filesystem Isolation Lastly, the process also uses a virtualized root filesystem, a process known as chroot(). Chrooting is a method where the Linux kernel effectively lies to the process about where the root of the filesystem is by prepending a path to every call to access the filesystem. To chroot a process, you provide a directory that will act as the filesystem root for that process, meaning if the process were to try and list of contents of the root (/), they'd instead be listing the contents of the directory you specified. When configured properly, this has the effect of an filesystem allowlist - the process is only allowed to access data in the filesystem that you have specifically granted for it, and all of this without complicated permissions. It's important to note, however, that chrooting is often misunderstood as a more involved security control, because it's often incorrectly called a "jail" - referring to BSD's jails. Chrooting a process only isolates the filesystem from the process, but nothing else. In my specific use case it serves as an added layer of protection to guard against simple path transversal bugs. If an attacker were somehow able to trick the server into serving a sensitive file like /etc/passwd, it would fail because that file doesn't exist as far as the process knows. For those wondering, my SystemD service file looks like this: [Unit] Description=webcentral After=syslog.target After=network.target [Service] # I utilize systemd's heartbeat feature, sd-notify Type=notify NotifyAccess=main WatchdogSec=5 # This is the directory that serves as the virtual root for the process RootDirectory=/opt/webcentral/root # The working directory for the process, this is automatically mapped to the # virtual root so while the process sees this path, in actuality it would be # /opt/webcentral/root/opt/webcentral WorkingDirectory=/opt/webcentral # Additional directories to pass through to the process BindReadOnlyPaths=/etc/letsencrypt # Remember all of the paths here are being mapped to the virtual root ExecStart=/opt/webcentral/live/webcentral -d /opt/webcentral/data --production ExecReload=/bin/kill -USR2 "$MAINPID" TimeoutSec=5000 Restart=on-failure # The low-privilege service user to run the process as User=webcentral Group=webcentral # The additional capability to allow this process to bind to privileged ports CapabilityBoundingSet=CAP_NET_BIND_SERVICE [Install] WantedBy=default.target To quickly summarize: Remote Access (SSH) is blocked from the internet, a VPN must be used to access the VM, updates are automatically installed on the VM, the web process itself runs as a low-privileged service account, and the same process is chroot()-ed to shield the VMs filesystem. Service Availability Now it's time to shift focus away from the VPS to the application itself. One of, if not the, biggest benefits of running my own entire web server means that I can deeply integrate security controls how I best see fit. For this, I focus on detection and rejection of malicious clients. Being on the internet means you will be constantly exposed to malicious traffic - it's just a fact of life. The overwhelming majority of this traffic is just scanners, people going over every available IP address and looking widely known and exploitable vulnerabilities, things like leaving credentials out in the open or web shells. Generally, these scanners are one and done - you'll see a small handful of requests from a single address and then never again. I find that trying to block or prevent these scanners is a bit of a fool's errand, however by tracking these scanners over time I can begin to identify patterns to proactively block them early, saving resources. Why this matters is not because of the one-and-done scanners, but instead the malicious ones, the ones that don't just send a handful of requests - they send hundreds, if not thousands, all at once. These scanners risk degrading the service for others by occupying server resources that would better be used for legitimate visitors. To detect malicious hosts, I employ some basic heuristic by focusing on the headers sent by the client, and the paths they're trying to access. Banned Paths Having collected months of data from the traffic I served, I was able to identify some of the most common paths these scanners are looking for. One of the more common treds I see if scanning for weak and vulnerable WordPress configurations. WordPress is an incredibly common content management platform, which also makes it a prime target for attackers. Since I don't use WordPress (and perhaps you shouldn't either...) this made it a good candidate for scanner tracking. Therefore, any request where the path contains any of: "wp-admin", "wp-content", "wp-includes", or "xmlrpc.php" are flagged as malicious and recorded. User Agents The User Agent header is data sent by your web browser to the server that provides a vague description of the browser and the device it's running on. For example, my user agent when I wrote this post is: Mozilla/5.0 (Macintosh; Intel Mac OS X 10.15; rv:128.0) Gecko/20100101 Firefox/128.0 All this really tells the server is that I'm on a Mac running macOS 15 and using Firefox 128. One of the most effective measures I've found to block malicious traffic early is to do some very basic filtering by user agent. The simplest and most effective measure thus far has been to block requests that have no user agent header. I also have a growing list of bogus user agent values, where the header looks valid - but if you check the version numbers of the system or browser, nothing lines up. IP Firewall When clients start getting a bit too rowdy, they get put into the naughty corner temporarily blocked from connecting. Blocked connections happen during the TCP handshake, saving resources as we skip the TLS negotiation. Addresses are blocked 24 hours, and I found this time to be perfectly adequate as most clients quickly give up and move on. ASN Blocks In some extreme situations, it's necessary to block entire services and all of their addresses from accessing my server. This happens when a network provider, such as an ISP, VPN, or cloud provider, fails to do their job in preventing abuse of their services and malicious find home there. Cloud providers have a responsibility to ensure that if a malicious customer is using their service, they would terminate their accounts and stop providing their services. For the most part, these cloud providers do a decent enough job at that. Some providers, however, don't care - at all - and quickly become popular amongst malicious actors. Cloudflare and Alibaba are two great examples. Because of the sheer volume of malicious traffic and total lack of valid user traffic, I block all of Cloudflare and Alibaba's address space. Specifically, I block AS13335 and AS45102. Putting It All Together Summarized, this is the path a request takes when connecting to my server: Upon recieving a TCP connection, the IP address of the client is checked if it's either in a blocked ASN or is individually blocked. If so, the request is quickly rejected. Otherwise, TLS is negotiated, allowing the server to see the details of the actual HTTP request. We then check if the request is for a banned path, or has a banned user agent, if so the IP is blocked for 24 hours and the request is rejected, otherwise the request is served as normal. The Result I feel this graph speaks for itself: This graph shows the number of requests that were blocked per minute. These bursts are the malicious scanners that I'm working to block, and all of these were successful defences against them. This will be a never-ending fight, but that's part of the fun, innit?
According to the Wayback Machine, I launched my website over a decade ago, in 2013. Just that thought alone makes me feel old, but going back through the old snapshots of my websites made me feel a profound feeling of longing for a time when having a website used to be a novel and enjoyable experience. The Start Although I no longer have the original invoice, I believe I purchased the ianspence.com domain in 2012 when I was studying web design at The Art Institute of Vancouver. Yes, you read that right, I went to art school. Not just any, mind you, but one that was so catastrophically corrupt and profit-focused that it imploded as I was studying there. But thats a story for another time. I obviously didn't have any real plan for what I wanted my website to be, or what I would use it for. I simply wanted a web property where I could play around with what I was learning in school and expand my knowledge of PHP. I hosted my earliest sites from a very used Dell Optiplex GX280 tower in my house on my residential internet. Although the early 2010's were a rough period of my life, having my very own website was something that I was proud of and deeply enjoyed. Somewhere along the way, all that enjoyment was lost. And you don't have to take my own word for it. Just compare my site from 2013 to the site from when I wrote this post in 2024. Graphic Design was Never My Passion 2013's website has an animated carousel of my photography, bright colours, and way too many accordions. Everything was at 100% because I didn't really care about so much about the final product more as I was just screwing around and having fun. 2024's website is, save for the single sample of my photography work, a resume. Boring, professional, sterile of anything resembling personality. Even though the style of my site became more and more muted over the years, I continued to work and build on my site, but what I worked on changed as what I was interested in grew. In the very early 2010s I thought I wanted to go into web design, but after having suffered 4 months of the most dysfunctional Art school there is, I realized that maybe it was web development that interested me. That, eventually, grew into the networking and infrastructure training I went through, and the career I've built for myself. Changing Interests As my interests changed, my focus on the site became less about the design and appearance and more towards what was serving the site itself. My site literally moved out from the basement suite I was living in to a VPS, running custom builds of PHP and Apache HTTPD. At one point, I even played around with load-balancing between my VPS and my home server, which had graduated into something much better than that Dell. Or, at least until my internet provider blocked inbound port 80. This is right around when things stopped being fun anymore. When Things Stopped Being Fun Upon reflection, there were two big mistakes I made that stole all of the enjoyment out of tinkering with my websites: Cloudflare and Scaling. Cloudflare A dear friend of mine (that one knows I'm referring to it) introduced me to Cloudflare sometime in 2014, which I believe was the poison pill that started my journey into taking the fun out of things for me. You see, Cloudflare is designed for big businesses or people with very high traffic websites. Neither of which apply to me. I was just some dweeb who liked PHP. Cloudflare works by sitting between your website's hosting server and your visitors. All traffic from your visitors flows through Cloudflare, where they can do their magic. When configured properly, the original web host is effectively hidden from the web, as people have to go through Cloudflare first. This was the crux of my issues, at least with the focus of this blog post, with Cloudflare. For example, before Lets Encrypt existed, Cloudflare did not allow for TLS at all on their free plans. This was right at the time when I was just starting to learn about TLS, but because I had convinced myself that I had to use Cloudflare, I could never actually use it on my website. This specific problem of TLS never went away, either, as even though Cloudflare now offers free TLS - they have total control over everything and they have the final say in what is and isn't allowed. The problems weren't just TLS, of course, because if you wanted to handle non-HTTP traffic then you couldn't use Cloudflare's proxy. Once again, I encountered the same misguided fear that exposing my web server to the internet was a recipe for disaster. Scaling (or lack thereof) The other, larger, mistake I made was an obsession with scaling and security. Thanks to my education I had learned a lot about enterprise networking and systems administration, and I deigned to apply those skills to my own site. Aggressive caching, using global CDNs, monitoring, automated deployments, telemetry, obsession over response times, and probably more I'm not remembering. All for a mostly static website for a dork that had maybe 5 page views a month. This is a mistake that I see people make all the time, not even just exclusive for websites - people think that they need to be concerned about scaling problems without first asking if those problems even or will ever apply to them. If I was able to host my website from an abused desktop tower with blown caps on cable internet just fine, then why in the world would I need to be obsessing over telemetry and response times. Sadly things only got even worse when I got into cybersecurity, because now on top of all the concerns with performance and scale, I was trying to protect myself from exceedingly unlikely threats. Up until embarrassingly recently I was using complicated file integrity checks using hardware-backed cryptographic keys to ensure that only I could make changes to the content of my site. For some reason, I had built this threat model in my head where I needed to protect against malicious changes on an already well-protected server. All of this created an environment where making any change at all was a cumbersome and time-consuming task. Is it any wonder why I ended up making my site look like a resume when doing any changes to it was so much work? The Lesson I Learned All of this retrospective started because of the death of Cohost, as many of the folks there (myself included) decided to move to posting on their own blogs. This gave me a great chance to see what some of my friends were doing with their sites, and unlocking fond memories of back in 2012 and 2013 when I too was just having fun with my silly little website. All of this led me down to the realization of the true root cause of my misery: In an attempt to try and mimic what enterprises do with their websites in terms of stability and security, I made it difficult to make any changes to my site. Realizing this, I began to unravel the design and decisions I had made, and come up with a much better, simpler, and most of all enjoyable design. How my Website Used to Work The last design of my website that existed before I came to the conclusions I discussed above was as follows: My website was a packaged Docker container image which ran nginx. All of the configuration and static files were included in the image, so theoretically it could run anywhere. That image was being run on Azure Container Instances, a managed container platform, with the image hosted on Azure Container Registries. Cloudflare sat in-front of my website and proxied all connections to it. They took care of the domain registration, DNS, and TLS. Whenever I wanted to make changes to my site, I would create a container image, sign it using a private key on my YubiKey, and push that to Github. A Github action would then deploy that image to Azure Container Registries and trigger the container to restart, pulling the new image. How my Website Works Now Now that you've seen the most ridiculous design for some dork's personal website, let me show you how it works now: Yes, it's really that simple. My websites are now powered by a virtual machine with a public IP address. When users visit my website, they talk directly to that virtual machine. When I want to make changes to my website, I just push them directly to that machine. TLS certificates are provided by Lets Encrypt. I still use Cloudflare as my domain registrar and DNS provider, but - crucially - nothing is proxied through Cloudflare. When you loaded this blog post, your browser talked directly to my server. It's almost virtually identical to the way I was doing things in 2013, and it's been almost invigorating to shed this excess weight and unnecessary complications. But there's actually a whole lot going on behind the scenes that I'm omitting from this graph. Static Websites Are Boring A huge problem with my previous design is that I had locked myself into only having a pure static website, and static websites are boring! Websites are more fun when they can, you know, do things, and doing things with static websites is usually dependent on Javascript and doing them in the users browser. That's lame. Let's take a really simple example: Sometimes I want to show a banner on the top of my website. In a static-only website, unless you hard-code that banner into the HTML, doing this from a static site would require that you use JavaScript to check some backend if a banner should be displayed, and if so - render it. But on a dynamic page? Where server-side rendering is used? This is trivially easy. A key change with my new website is switching away from using containers, which are ephemeral and immutable, over to using a virtual machine, which isn't, and to go back to server-side rendering. I realized that a lot of the fun I was having back then was because PHP is server-side, and you can do a lot of wacky things when you have total control over the server! I'm really burying the lede here, but my new site is powered not by nginx, or httpd, but instead my own web server. Entirely custom and designed for tinkering and hacking. Combined with no longer having to deal with Cloudflare, has given me total control to do whatever the hell I want. Maybe I'll do another post some day talking about this - but I've written enough about websites for one day. Wrapping Up That feeling of wanting to do whatever the hell I want really does sum up the sentiment I've come to over the past few weeks. This is my website. I should be able to do whatever I want with it, free from my self-imposed judgement or concern over non-issues. Kill the cop in your head that tells you to share the concerns that Google has. You're not Google. Websites should be fun. Enterprise tools like Cloudflare and managed containers aren't.
More in technology
By a mile, the iPhone Duo has garnered more questions about what I think about it than any other phone I’ve ever had. It’s clearly a phone that has people intrigued, so I thought I’d jot down some loose, unorganized thoughts about what I think about it after about ten days. If I could sum all my thoughts up into one word, it’d simply be “fun”. I think for the vast majority of people, myself included, the iPhone 18 Pro is a more practical phone that through scientific analysis you’d likely even find a better phone. Even if they were priced the same, its package is more traditionally comfortable and ergonomic, with a better quality main camera, a helpful telephoto camera, a screen that’s more practical to use more of the time, a better biometric system (Face ID versus Touch ID) and a more established software experience. But damn if the iPhone Duo isn’t fun. Phones have been downright boring for so long. Incredible technology, lovely apps, but the hardware has been a bit slow moving since the iPhone X. Maybe that’s why I jumped onto the iPhone Air so readily. Even that slight departure from “black slab of glass” to “a dramatically thinner black slab of glass” was exciting versus what we’ve grown accustomed to. So I pick up the Duo, and it’s kinda just exciting to hold a phone for the first time in ages. Maybe that’s a honeymoon period and after a few months I’ll be over it. Maybe everyone who tries a folding phone for the first time experiences this. And to be clear, it’s not just all raw novelty. The fun aspect is fueled by having an absolutely incredible inner screen that fundamentally transforms what a phone is and can be. In addition, support the Apple Pencil has turned out to be phenomenally handy for me to be able to jot down quick thoughts and notes. For downsides, Touch ID is objectively worse than Face ID, but honestly, I don’t mind it as much as I expected I would. The smaller camera sensor than the Pro series phones is still decidedly great (rumors were it was a 17e size which was not correct, it’s the size of the normal 17’s). Software support gets better by the day, though iOS on the Duo is still decidedly a bit buggy at times. Other random thoughts Touch ID is objectively worse than Face ID, but honestly, I don’t mind it as much as I expected I would, previewing notifications is where I miss it the most After getting used to having a single speaker in the iPhone Air for a year, having stereo (not to mention great sounding) speakers is amazing The FaceTime camera on the inside is indeed not great for selfies/photography but honestly perfectly acceptable for FaceTime, and I’d definitely prefer this solution over a cutout on the inside so I’m happy! It definitely has a heavy feel to it, but it’s nothing honestly that bothersome A lot of the reviews said something to the effect of “the crease is practically invisible” and while I don’t really mind it or anything I definitely would disagree with that statement, you can see it a fair bit even with light content The hinge is a bit harder to open than I expected, I’ve found the secret is don’t pry from the middle of the side, instead put a thumb near the top and bottom (also helps prevent pressing Camera Control instead which I was doing all the time). I imagine this is necessary to have it be able to stop at arbitrary angles once open (which I do like) and hopefully it loosens up a bit with more use, but playing with Android foldables at Best Buy I did find their hinge easier to open I am really split on the inner, nano texture screen. It definitely helps reflections, has a neat look to it, and is super nice to draw on with the pencil, but it’s significantly less vibrant than the outer display which to my eyes looks a fair bit nicer. I think they made the right decision ultimately but it’s definitely not a zero-compromise solution. I was considering nano texture on my next MacBook but after this I think I’ll stick with glossy. My glass half full take with the Duo for now though is that we get two really cool screens to play with The outer screen is awesome for taking photos, unlike taller iPhones, your viewfinder fills the screen completely so it’s the largest feeling viewfinder I’ve used on a phone I miss the action button, nice little launcher for ChatGPT/Claude depending on which month it is Battery life is downright phenomenal versus my iPhone Air and 15 Pro (two devices admittedly not known for having great battery life) So, I don’t think the Duo is for most people who either don’t care much about phones, or care a lot about having the perfect phone, but for a decent amount of people in the middle I think the Duo represents a fundamentally different experience, that’s a ton of fun, and I’m excited to be excited about a phone again. (But, Apple, please figure out a way to add a telephoto lens.)
Going through a collection of old parts, CuriousMarc encountered some ICs that he couldn't identify. He opened up one of these ICs, and I studied it under the microscope. After some reverse engineering, I determined that it was a logic chip that implemented four NAND gates using old-fashioned diode-transistor logic (DTL).1 The chip turned out to be the ST680A, a member of the Signetics 600 series of chips from 1965. In this article, I discuss the circuitry in this chip and how diode-transistor logic works. The die of the ST680A under the microscope. Integrated circuits can be packaged in many ways. One of the most popular is the plastic DIP (Dual In-line Package), a black rectangle of epoxy with two rows of metal pins. This type of package was invented by Signetics: "Introduced in late 1965, the 600 series was the first integrated circuit family to be offered in a solid, plastic, dual in-line package (DIP)." Earlier integrated circuits were packaged in round metal cans or in small flat-packs. In 1965, engineers at Fairchild invented the DIP, which had two rows of pins on 0.1" spacing. Unlike the surface-mounted flat-pack, the DIP had pins that were inserted into holes, making manual or automated assembly quick and easy. Because the pins of a DIP were on a regular grid, rather than the circular pattern of a metal can, circuit board design and manufacturing were also easier (details). The first DIP chips had ceramic packages. The plastic DIP, introduced by Signetics, was much cheaper and became very popular. An advertisement for the Signetics 600 series. From Electronics, March 21, 1966. The plastic DIP is less popular with me, however, because it is harder to open. With a ceramic package, I can simply tap it with a chisel and pop it open, but that doesn't work with epoxy packages. An epoxy package can be dissolved with nitric or sulfuric acid, but I try to avoid dangerous acids. Instead, CuriousMarc used Antoine's hot air decapping method. Unfortunately, the hot air technique doesn't always work. In this case, tiny bits of epoxy were stuck to the die, obscuring the circuitry. I used a few drops of boiling sulfuric acid to clean the die. (I'm okay with sulfuric acid in tiny quantities.) The die on its metal frame. The photo above shows the silicon die on its metal frame, the lead frame. The golden blobs are where the bond wires were attached to the die. You can see the doped silicon regions that form diodes and bipolar NPN transistors, as well as 16 resistors in the center, forming serpentine paths. Most chips have a passivation layer—a thin layer of silicon dioxide—over the chip. Inconveniently, this old chip didn't have a passivation layer, so the acid also stripped off the metal layer. (A few remnants are visible in the upper left.) Without the metal layer, I had to guess at how the components were connected to form logic gates. The die has very faint color differences where the silicon was protected by the metal, so that helped. Eventually, I came up with the diagram below, showing how the metal layer was probably configured. This wiring reveals that the chip implements four DTL NAND gates, which I'll describe in more detail below. One puzzle was that the chip has two unused diodes, indicated with question marks below. The metal layer for a quad NAND chip. I desaturated the image to make the labels clearer. Transistors, diodes, and resistors In this section, I'll explain how the patterns in the image correspond to components of the circuit. The silicon die is doped with various impurities to form regions with different electrical characteristics. These regions appear red or green under the microscope due to thin-film effects. As a result, the chip's transistors, diodes, and resistors are visible. The chip is made from bipolar NPN transistors, which have a completely different construction from the MOS transistors in modern ICs. In an NPN transistor, the current from the collector to the emitter is controlled by the current through the base. The collector is a large region of N-type silicon, silicon that is doped with atoms such as phosphorus or arsenic. Since these elements have one more valence electron than silicon, they give the silicon more negative charge carriers, so it is called N for negative. The N-type silicon happens to appear reddish. On top of the collector, the base is a thin region of P-type silicon, which appears green. This silicon has been doped with atoms such as boron or gallium, which have one fewer valence electron than silicon. The missing electrons form "holes", which act as positive charge carriers. Finally, the emitter is N-type silicon, on top of the base layer. These layers work together through semiconductor magic, amplifying the base current. Two NPN transistors on the chip. The second transistor is a larger output transistor. The chip's output transistors are slightly larger so they can sink more current. In the transistor on the right above, note that the collector contact wraps around three sides of the transistor. The emitter is also larger, with an L-shaped contact. According to the datasheet, each output transistor can sink 2.5 mA of current. The chip uses many diodes since it is diode-transistor logic. The structure of a diode is similar to a transistor, but without the emitter. In a diode, current flows from the cathode (P-type silicon) to the anode (N-type). A diode and a resistor on the chip. The chip uses 16 resistors, located in the middle of the die. A resistor is constructed from a long, thin region of doped silicon. Since silicon has moderately high resistance, a long strip of silicon acts as a resistor. Most of the resistors have a serpentine layout to fit a long resistor into a smaller area. These resistors consist of P-type silicon (green) in a "tub" of N-type silicon (red). The tub is connected to the positive voltage supply; since current doesn't flow from N-type silicon to P-type silicon, this isolates the resistors from each other. Operation of a DTL gate Logic gates can be created in many ways. The earliest integrated circuits (such as the ones in the Apollo Guidance Computer) used Resistor-Transistor Logic (RTL), where logic gates were constructed from resistors and transistors. In March 1962, Signetics announced the first family of commercial Diode-Transistor Logic (DTL) integrated circuits (details). By using diodes on the inputs instead of resistors, DTL provided better performance than RTL. However, DTL soon became overshadowed by TTL (Transistor-Transistor Logic), which was faster and used less power. (If you built digital circuits a few decades ago, you're probably familiar with the popular 7400 series of TTL chips.) The diagram below shows how the DTL NAND gate works. If both inputs are high, the current from the first resistor flows through the base of the first transistor, turning it on. The transistor amplifies this current, passing a much larger current from the transistor's collector to the transistor's emitter. This current goes through the base of the second transistor, which turns on the second transistor. The second transistor passes an even larger current from the output pin to ground, pulling the output pin low. The DTL NAND gate with both inputs high. The schematic is from the datasheet. This circuit is considerably more complicated than the DTL gate on Wikipedia. But if one of the input pins is pulled low, the current from the resistor goes through the diode instead of the transistor. The first transistor turns off, and without a base current, the second transistor turns off. The third resistor pulls the output high. Thus, the output is low only if both inputs are high: a NAND gate. The DTL NAND gate with an input low. I'll point out a few features of this circuit. The diodes on the inputs ensure that one input doesn't affect the other input. The diode in the middle raises the voltage on the first transistor's emitter, so it requires more voltage to turn on, reducing the sensitivity to noise. The output uses a resistor to pull the output high; more advanced circuits use another transistor. When the output is low, the third resistor is still "trying" to pull the output high, which is wasting power. Moreover, the resistor limits the output current, so the high output is fairly weak. In some DTL families, you can get gates with different values for the output resistor, so you can select the tradeoff between wasting power and having an output that is too weak. If you've used TTL integrated circuits from the 1970s, you know that chips usually have power and ground on diagonal pins: ground on pin 7 and power on pin 14. (Putting power and ground diagonally opposite both helps die layout and circuit board layout.) Much to my surprise, I found that the Signetics chips predate this standard and have ground on pin 1 and power on pin 8: still diagonal, but the wrong diagonal! The diagram below shows how the four NAND gates are wired in the chip. Pinout of the 680A quad NAND gate. From the databook. Three chips from one die When I examined the die under the microscope, I figured out the circuit, but I was puzzled by two extra diodes, as if two NAND gates had a third input that wasn't used. The explanation is that Signetics used the same silicon layout for at least three different chips, applying a different metal layer for different functionality. This saved money since it's much cheaper to produce a single optical mask for the metal layer than a complete set of new masks. Signetics sold semi-custom ICs to customers, using an approach called variFEBS (Variable Functional Electronics Blocks). This approach used a custom metal layer on top of fixed silicon, providing custom circuits without the cost of a full mask set. These circuits didn't sell well, but Signetics used the same approach for standard ICs. Pinout of the 670A triple NAND gate and the 616A quad NAND gate. All three chips have some similarities, such as using pins 2 and 14 as outputs. From the databook. One IC with the same silicon as the quad NAND gate is the 670A chip, which has three NAND gates, each with three inputs (above left). The diagram below shows how the silicon can be wired to provide this functionality. The hypothesized metal layer for the 670A triple-NAND gate. The layout for the triple chip above is a bit tricky because the top gate has inputs on both sides of the power (Vcc) pin. This creates a layout problem because the power and ground metal runs vertically to the resistors, blocking metal wiring from one side to the other. The solution is a "crossunder", a region of silicon that allows a signal to pass under the metal layer, connecting the inputs on the left to the rest of the circuitry on the right. This crossunder is visible near the top of the chip. Another chip with the same layout is the 616A dual NAND gate, with five inputs on each gate. Since this chip has 10 inputs in total (compared to 8 on the quad gate), this chip uses the two "extra" diodes that I spotted. If that isn't enough inputs, each NAND gate has an expansion input; by connecting external diodes to the expansion input, the gate can be made as large as desired. The hypothesized metal layer for the 616A dual-NAND chip. Some history The history of Signetics is closely tied to Fairchild. The story of Fairchild's founding is well known: in 1957, eight engineers—the Traitorous Eight—left Shockley Semiconductor and created Fairchild Semiconductor. Hundreds of companies (the "Fairchildren") were started by engineers who left Fairchild. Signetics was one of those companies, formed in 1961 and said to be the first company to exclusively design and manufacture integrated circuits.2 Signetics announced its first product in 1962, a NAND gate that cost $125 (over $1000 in current dollars).3 Not surprisingly, sales were weak. Signetics soon ran short of money, so in 1962, Corning Glass invested $1.7 million for 51% ownership of Signetics. Corning Glass may seem like a strange investor, but Corning was more of a high-tech company than you'd expect, making components such as resistors and glass capacitors, and later creating fiber optics. Moreover, in the early 1960s, integrated circuits were the hot area (much like AI now), and everyone wanted to get involved. In 1963, the Department of Defense pushed for contractors to use integrated circuits in new products. Riding this wave, Signetics became the leading producer of integrated circuits.4 However, Fairchild soon introduced a series of DTL chips that competed with Signetics. The Fairchild 930 series was faster than the Signetics chips and less than half the price, so Fairchild took much of the market from Signetics and dominated the IC market. Signetics also produced analog integrated circuits. Signetics is probably best known for creating the 555 timer chip in 1970, said to be the world's most popular IC, with billions sold.5 Signetics was acquired by Philips in 1975, and then Philips Semiconductors was spun off as NXP (Next exPerience) in 2006. NXP is currently the #10 semiconductor manufacturer worldwide, so the heritage of Signetics lives on. For more, follow me on Bluesky (@righto.com), Mastodon (@[email protected]), or RSS. Thanks to CuriousMarc for providing the IC and thanks to TubeTime for finding the databook. AI statement: Despite the presence of the em dash, no AI was used in the writing of this article (details). Notes and references After I had reverse-engineered the chip, TubeTime found datasheets for it, making my reverse engineering unnecessary. (See the Signetics Condensed Catalog 1969, Utilogic II Databook 1971, and Utilogic 2 Databook 1972.) We must have been unlucky with our original web searches since we didn't find anything. But this way you get to see what's inside the chip :-) The Signetics ST680A IC in its package. The large circular depression marks pin 1. From the date code, this chip is from 1971. ↩ For more Signetics history, see Signetics Founding History, written by Lionel Kattner, a co-founder of Signetics. He states that the company name was inspired by the words "signals" and "networks", as well as the high-tech suffix "-netics". ↩ See History of Semiconductor Engineering, page 156. ↩ The book Making Silicon Valley describes the history of Signetics. It has a negative view of the Corning investment, saying that Signetics executives "Van Poppelen and Kattner dissented on the grounds that Corning was not a good fit for an integrated circuit company. In their view, Corning was a staid Eastern firm, ignorant about semiconductors and antithetic to the ways and culture of the electronics industry on the West Coast. Their view later proved to be correct." ↩ The 555 timer was created by analog IC wizard Hans Camenzind. If you're interested in analog circuits, you should read his book Designing Analog Chips, which you can download for free. ↩
A great deal of effort has gone into understanding the regulatory burden on housing construction, and the extent to which it contributes to high housing prices.