Why 3D TVs failed and the trouble with 3D in Hollywood.
They were annoying to use and bad 3D movies didn't help.
Sony says it will still make physical discs after 2028, as long as the game came out before then
Anything released after 2028 will still be digital-only.
Who is Apple’s New Chief Hardware Officer: Meet Johny Srouji, The Man Shaping Apple’s Roadmap
Every great Apple product from the last thirty years came out of a partnership. Steve Jobs had Jony Ive, a designer with more operational power than anyone at Apple except Jobs himself. Tim Cook inherited that dynamic in 2011, and over the next fifteen years the industrial design studio slowly lost its seat at the executive table, with finance and operations gaining a larger say over product direction. Bloomberg’s Mark Gurman has described the current studio as a shell of what it used to be, briefed by other teams rather than briefing them. That is the Apple John Ternus takes over on September 1, 2026, and his choice of number two says everything about where the next decade is headed.
Johny Srouji became Apple’s Chief Hardware Officer on April 20, 2026, a title that did not exist a day earlier. The role folds Apple’s hardware engineering group, previously run by Ternus himself, into the hardware technologies organization Srouji has led since 2015. He now controls silicon, batteries, cameras, sensors, displays, storage controllers, cellular modems, product design engineering, and every reliability lab in Cupertino. Ternus is his only boss, which effectively makes Srouji operational number two at a four trillion dollar company. The last time one Apple executive held this much hardware authority, Steve Jobs was still alive and Bob Mansfield was running the show.
Srouji was born in 1964 in Haifa, the third of four children in a middle-class Arab Christian family, his father a carpenter who built casting molds by trade. He studied computer science at Technion, graduating summa cum laude on his bachelor’s and magna cum laude on his master’s. Before Apple came calling, he had already done processor design at Intel Austin and managed IBM’s POWER7 CPU. Bob Mansfield recruited him in 2008 to build a chip Apple did not yet know how to design, which became the A4 that launched inside the first iPad and iPhone 4. Colleagues describe him as no-nonsense, allergic to technical vagueness, and unwilling to accept anything less than the hard truth about what silicon can and cannot do.
Every A-series and M-series chip you have ever used came out of Srouji’s org. His team pulled off the 64-bit A7 in 2013 that caught Qualcomm completely flat-footed, then engineered the M1 transition in 2020 that made Intel Macs obsolete overnight. Apple’s whole vertical integration story, the one that lets a MacBook Air outperform Windows laptops twice its price on battery life, is essentially his life’s work. His team also introduced the Neural Engine in 2017 with the A11 Bionic, quietly laying the groundwork for on-device AI half a decade before the industry decided AI was a talking point. The man who liberated Apple from Intel’s silicon almost got poached by Intel to be their CEO in 2019.
Ive read Dieter Rams and treated industrial design as the ordering principle of a product, sketching an object first and asking engineering to solve for it. Srouji operates from the opposite pole, treating silicon as the ordering principle and letting form factor, material, and thermal envelope adapt to what the chip can do at what power draw. The $599 MacBook Neo Apple launched in March 2026 is the perfect case study, because it only exists as a product because the A18 Pro from last year’s iPhone 16 Pro became efficient enough to run macOS without cooking itself or eating the battery. Ternus led the keynote and got the credit, but Srouji built the runway. That reframing of where design begins, at the wafer rather than the render, is the first coherent thesis about form and function anyone has articulated at Apple since Ive walked out in 2019.
Ternus and Srouji together cover the full stack from atom to product enclosure, which is the tightest hardware leadership Apple has run since Jobs, Ive, and Jon Rubinstein were setting product direction from the same conference room. Srouji has already started restructuring aggressively, splitting hardware into five groups and moving product design authority from veteran VP Kate Bergeron to Shelly Goldberg on Mac and Dave Pakula on Watch, iPad, and AirPods. He has also stood up a new Ecosystems Platforms and Partnerships team led by Matt Costello and Kevin Lynch, the latter of whom runs Apple’s still-secret robotics group. In his internal memo to staff, Srouji wrote that he intends to deepen integration between the silicon teams and the product-creating teams. Translation: the chip designers will now sit closer to the people deciding what the next iPhone actually looks like.
Everyone keeps asking whether Ternus and Srouji will turn Apple into a Xiaomi or Samsung style product factory, launching sub-brands and price tiers across every possible category. I don’t think that is where this goes. Xiaomi wins on volume and value engineering, Samsung wins on being first to try every new form factor, and Apple under Srouji looks positioned to do something closer to the Jobs-era iPod strategy: one core capability, several related form factors, each tuned to a different lifestyle. AI camera glasses in 2027, camera-equipped AirPods, a rumored wearable pendant, a HomePad with a swiveling display, and a foldable iPhone all sit on the same roadmap, and they are fundamentally the same argument as iPod versus Nano versus Shuffle was in 2005. Discipline stays intact, but the surface area for hardware expands into whatever new form the current silicon can actually support without turning your pocket into a hand warmer.
Srouji’s promotion is Apple’s bet that AI-era consumer devices will be won by whoever can co-design chip, sensor, battery, and enclosure as a single integrated object. That is a bet Apple can uniquely make because it already owns the whole stack, and one that Meta, Google, and even OpenAI (currently building its own hardware future with Ive, Evans Hankey, and Tang Tan poached straight out of Cupertino) still cannot fully replicate. The risk sits on the software side, where Apple’s own AI models trail rivals and Siri keeps getting delayed for reasons nobody at Apple wants to explain in public. Srouji cannot fix that himself. What he can do is make sure that whenever Apple finally ships a competent generative model, the hardware waiting to receive it has been designed around what the model actually needs, rather than retrofitted around it after launch.
The post Who is Apple’s New Chief Hardware Officer: Meet Johny Srouji, The Man Shaping Apple’s Roadmap first appeared on Yanko Design.
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A Craftsman Just Turned Dead Car Engines Into One-of-a-Kind Guitars
I’ve been thinking about this one for days. A Slovenian craftsman named Vlado Plateis is turning discarded car engine heads into fully playable electric guitars, and every time I look at the photos, I still can’t decide if I’m staring at a musical instrument or a sculpture. Maybe that’s exactly the point.
The design logic here is deceptively simple: take the engine head as the body of the guitar, preserve its raw industrial form, and build around it rather than in spite of it. Nothing is polished away, sanded smooth, or disguised. The cast metal arrives with its own surface history of machined edges, bolt holes, and combustion chamber cavities, and all of it stays. The visible scars and geometry of the original part become the visual language of the finished instrument. That restraint is a design decision, and it’s a brave one. Most makers would be tempted to refine. Plateis resists that impulse entirely.
Designer: Vlado Plateis
What makes the objects so visually arresting is the tension between their two identities. The pickups, tuning pegs, and strings are all standard guitar hardware, clean and purposeful. Set against the rough, irregular topography of the engine casting, they create a contrast that reads as almost confrontational. One material is mass-produced and precise. The other is heavy, asymmetrical, and marked by mechanical life. Together, they don’t clash so much as they hold a conversation, and that conversation is what you keep looking at.
Each engine head also brings an entirely different geometry to the design, which means every guitar has a silhouette that could never be repeated. A guitar built from a Toyota Corolla head looks nothing like one built from a Mitsubishi Colt. The donor car determines the form. The bolt pattern, the fin arrangement, the overall mass and proportion are all inherited rather than designed, which paradoxically makes the final object feel more authored, not less. Plateis isn’t imposing a shape. He’s discovering one that was already there.
The weight is part of the design too, and I think it matters more than people initially consider. These are dense, substantial objects. You don’t pick one up and forget what it’s made from. That physicality communicates something about permanence that most contemporary design actively avoids. We’re so conditioned to lightweight, minimal, and frictionless that an object with genuine heft feels almost transgressive. It asks you to be present with it.
I also want to talk about what Plateis doesn’t do, because restraint is underrated in design. He doesn’t paint the metal. He doesn’t add decorative elements that aren’t structurally necessary. He doesn’t try to make the engine head look like something it isn’t. The honesty of the material is the aesthetic. That’s a philosophy rooted in the same tradition as Shaker furniture and Braun electronics, the idea that a thing should look exactly like what it is and nothing more. Applied to a guitar made from automotive scrap, it produces something genuinely unexpected.
Upcycling in design is popular right now, often to the point of feeling performative. Brands slap the word “reclaimed” on something and call it sustainable, but the object itself is forgettable. Plateis sidesteps all of that because the material isn’t incidental to the design. It is the design. Because every engine head has a different geometry, every guitar is structurally and visually unique. You cannot order the same one twice. The scarcity isn’t manufactured. It’s inherent to the process.
As someone who pays close attention to design, I think Plateis Guitars represents something genuinely interesting happening at the intersection of material culture, craft, and form-making. It’s a reminder that the most compelling design doesn’t always come from the biggest studios or the most advanced technology. Sometimes it comes from someone in Slovenia, a scrapped engine head, and a very considered eye for what already exists inside a piece of discarded metal.
Whether or not you play guitar, whether or not you care about cars, these objects deserve your attention. They are proof that constraints can be generative, and that found form, treated with patience and respect, can produce something completely new.
The post A Craftsman Just Turned Dead Car Engines Into One-of-a-Kind Guitars first appeared on Yanko Design.
The Samsung Galaxy S27 Ultra Hardware Change No One Expected
The Samsung Galaxy S27 Ultra is poised to elevate the flagship smartphone experience, introducing noteworthy advancements in camera technology, display innovation, and privacy features. As leaks and rumors circulate, it becomes clear that Samsung aims to cater to a wide audience, ranging from photography enthusiasts to privacy-conscious users, while maintaining its reputation for innovative design […]
The post The Samsung Galaxy S27 Ultra Hardware Change No One Expected appeared first on Geeky Gadgets.
Insta360 Luna Ultra Adds Leica Optics but Faces Overheating Issues
The Insta360 Luna Ultra introduces features like a detachable wireless display and Leica optics, aiming to enhance image quality and usability for creators. According to Tech Court, while these features offer notable advantages, the device’s first-generation design presents challenges such as overheating during extended use and occasional connectivity problems with the wireless display. These issues […]
The post Insta360 Luna Ultra Adds Leica Optics but Faces Overheating Issues appeared first on Geeky Gadgets.
These popular smartphones are in their last year of software support
It's good to know how long your phone will get updates before you purchase.
Fire, Memory, and the Design That Wants to Keep Both Alive
Every year during the Ghost Festival, millions of people across East Asia stand at street corners, in parking lots, or on sidewalks, setting fire to paper offerings for their ancestors. It is one of the most intimate acts a person can perform in public. It is also, increasingly, a problem for the cities around it. The smoke is real. The fire hazard is real. And the tension between a deeply rooted cultural practice and modern urban living is just as real. That is the space where the Peace Urn was born.
Designed by a team of five students, Hao Qian, Xiyue Yang, Zetong Song, Chenchen Du, and Yichen Fan, the Peace Urn is a clay vessel built specifically for burning joss paper in dense urban environments. It took home a Student Notable in the Lifestyle Accessories category at a 2026 design awards program, and while the recognition might sound understated, the thinking behind the project is anything but.
Designers: Hao Qian, Xiyue Yang, Zetong Song, Chenchen Du, Yichen Fan
What the designers understood, and what I think gets missed in a lot of conversations about modernizing tradition, is that the goal was never to replace the ritual. It was to protect it. Burning joss paper is an act of grief and connection, a way of sending material offerings through fire to ancestors in the afterlife. You do not solve that by eliminating the fire. You solve it by giving the fire somewhere better to live.
The Peace Urn does exactly that through airflow. The geometry of the vessel is engineered so that air moves through it in a specific pattern, slowing ash as it rises and drawing it back down rather than letting it scatter across streets and neighbors’ windshields. Smoke is managed similarly. The result is a contained burn that still looks and feels like a burn, which matters more than it might seem.
The designers were deliberate about keeping the visual experience intact. Flames remain visible through openings in the vessel because that visibility is not decorative. It is the whole point. Watching the offerings transform is part of the ritual itself. A closed, purely functional container would have technically solved the problem while emotionally gutting it. The Peace Urn refuses to make that trade.
The material choice is worth noting too. The urn is made from unglazed heat-resistant clay, chosen for its thermal stability, affordability, and cultural familiarity. But the choice goes beyond practicality. As the urn ages and accumulates soot, heat marks, and residue from repeated use, it becomes a record of the rituals performed in it. The surface changes. It holds memory in a tangible way, which feels entirely fitting for an object designed to help people honor the dead.
There is also a structural proposal embedded in the design: moving the practice from informal street corners into designated public spaces. The urn is not just a personal object. It is part of a system, a piece of infrastructure that allows the practice to be relocated into designated spaces, improving safety and spatial order while maintaining the privacy and emotional intimacy of the ritual. That shift from “this is someone’s private act happening in public” to “this is a supported civic practice” is, I think, quietly significant. It is an argument that tradition deserves planning, not just tolerance.
The geometry carries one more layer of meaning. The circular form of the urn references the traditional practice of drawing a circle on the ground when burning joss paper, where the boundary defines sacred space and the opening represents the direction of spiritual transmission. Translating that into the vessel’s shape is the kind of detail that separates thoughtful design from clever design. The circle does not just look good. It means something.
The Peace Urn will not end up in a museum as an object of aesthetic appreciation, and it is not trying to. It is trying to show up every Ghost Festival, on a designated corner somewhere, smelling like smoke and doing its job. That restraint is admirable. Not every design needs to be timeless. Some just need to be useful at the right moment, for the right people.
The post Fire, Memory, and the Design That Wants to Keep Both Alive first appeared on Yanko Design.
Transform Your Home Screen: Must-Have iPhone Apps for July 2026
As July 2026 unfolds, a new array of innovative iPhone apps emerges, designed to enhance productivity, creativity, and personalization. Whether your goal is to streamline daily tasks, customize your device, or explore creative tools, these apps cater to a variety of interests. Below, we delve into eight standout apps that promise to elevate your iPhone […]
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