I made my own duct tape wallets starting in the summer of 1992. In about 2003 I started making wallets out of a kind of tape that I believe is superior. It goes by several names, but one common name is “house wrap tape.” It’s often sold in conjunction with Tyvek house wrap. The tape is made of polypropylene, and is very strong for its weight. Unlike duct tape it’s isotropic, meaning that it’s the same in all directions, and won’t tear or fray. The adhesive is a very aggressive acrylic, which is needed to stick to the slick surfaces of Tyvek house wrap.

DuPont’s Tyvek house wrap tape is by far the most common brand of this kind of tape. The only downside is esthetic; it has “Tyvek” printed in large letters all along the tape. It’s possible to buy plain colored house wrap tape; I bought the roll I’m using in this essay online. I once had several rolls of Owens Corning house wrap tape which came in pink and had no text. Additional information about these tapes can be found here.

To create a house wrap wallet, we need to know how fancy we want to go. My wallets are simply the main currency pouch plus two smaller card pouches. These instructions are for this style.

To start off we will create the two smaller card pouches. Unroll a 7” or 8” length of tape and place it sticky side up on your table. Unroll a similar length and overlap it about half way lengthwise. Cover the remaining section of sticky-side-up tape with another fresh piece. The fresh piece does not need to overlap the first. Turn the three pieces over and overlap the sticky side up section lengthwise. Repeat this process until you have a panel of tape about 7” wide by about 5” tall.

A typical plastic card like a driver’s license or credit card is about 2 & 1/8” tall by 3 & 3/8” wide. Our card envelopes will be about 2” tall to allow the tops of the cards to peak out and be easily grabbed. Mark the long edge of your panel with a straight line and cut it straight. A Sharpie permanent marker works well for drawing on polypropylene. To minimize edges that can come apart or expose adhesive, overlap a fresh piece of tape on this straight edge and roll it over on the other side to secure it.

You may notice the acrylic adhesive binding to the blades of the scissors you are using. One way to remove this is with WD-40, which also lubricates the revolute joint. Be careful when wiping scissors blades, as they can be quite sharp.

Fold the panel with the cards you intend to carry inside. Allow the tops of the cards to peek over the top. My card envelope dimensions are just about 4” or perhaps 4 & 1/8”.

If you look carefully, you might be able to see that the edges of this panel are squared and cut, and the edges covered with an overlapping length of tape.

Each card pouch panel is about 3 & 3/8” wide. Fold one panel in half and tape one edge together. Place your cards inside the pouch and tape the other side edge.

Once the proper height is determined, cut the panel into two sections.

Don’t worry if you are taping over a gap, as we will correct this in a latter step. Make sure to align the tops of the two envelope sides as you create this seal. Since the adhesive is on the inside, it creates an unfortunate situation, since the adhesive will tend to stick to the cards. We remedy this by everting the card pouches. Remove the cards and turn the pouches inside out. To fully evert the corners, use a single plastic card to push the envelope from the inside out. Eventually it should fully evert. Reinforce the sides with extra tape.

Now the two card pouches are joined side by side. Notice there is a gap of about ¼” between the two pouches. This is to allow them to fold together without binding along the crease.

A new panel is created for the main currency envelope. An American bill is about 2 & 5/8” by 6 & 1/8”. The width and height of the currency envelope will need to be greater than these dimensions. The width should match the width of the joined card pouches.

In this case the currency envelope is 7 & 5/16” wide. As with the card envelopes, cut the panel to the correct width then fold down the middle to create the crease. The height in this case is 3” so the panel height before folding would be 6”. Tape the edges, evert the envelope, and seal with additional tape.

Join the currency envelope to the card pouches along the sides and bottom. You will see a gap at the top of the card pouches that should be taped down. Slip a section of tape inside each card pouch and adhere it to the card pouch and the envelope pouch. Add additional reinforcement along the sides and bottom of the wallet.

There you go! My previous polypropylene wallet lasted about 5 years, and was much more elegant than a duct tape or gaffer tape wallet. I call this model the “Big Red One.” Good luck!

I built two pumps back in the early 1990s when I invented this stunt. One was stolen in Copenhagen, and the other remains with me. Both were essentially the same size. I started off with a clear acrylic cylinder 10” in length, 4.485” OD, and 3.975” ID. Clearly this is a 4” ID nominal tube. From there I used a drill press to machine an end cap, again out of clear acrylic, to seal one end. This was the most labor-intensive part of the fabrication, as I had to machine it to a few thousandths of an inch over the ID of the barrel. If you plan to do this yourself, you will need a reliable dial or digital caliper. The end cap on my unit was .675” thick, again made of clear acrylic. When your end cap almost fits into the barrel, use a heat gun to soften the end of the barrel. I chose not to use adhesives to secure the end cap into the barrel, but perhaps one could; I honestly don’t know what would work best. Both of my pumps held liquid under pressure for years with no leakage or malfunctions. You will notice the presence of “crazing” on the end of my barrel; this is a common phenomenon with all many plastics under stress. I suppose one could further secure the end cap with a metal band, or drill screws or pins into the plastic, but I didn’t need to.

From there a brass plumbing fitting was installed in the end cap. This was threaded with pipe thread, so you will need a pipe tap that corresponds to the threads on the fitting you are are using. The fitting needs to dimensionally match the tubing you will be using. Since I used tubing whose ID was 3/16” you will need to choose a metal fitting that will allow that size of tubing to slide over the hose barb. The tubing is elastic, and will expand a bit to fit over a hose barb. I sealed the junction of the threaded hose barb and the acrylic end cap with plumber’s epoxy on the outside of the unit. Black vinyl tape was wrapped around the junction of the hose barb and tubing to provide strain relief. If I were doing this today I would probably use silicone tape instead.

The plunger of the pump is a series of acrylic disks which hold the O-rings in place on a stainless steel rod. The opposite end of the rod is a plastic T-handle. There are two sizes of disks, which are sized to allow just a portion of the O-ring to be exposed to the inner surface of the pump. Again, the dimensions I’m providing are for a barrel whose nominal ID is 4”. The inner disk is 3.550” across and .229” thick. The thickness is nominally ¼”. The larger disk is 3.917” across and the same thickness. I started out using 4 O-rings, but later on found I could get by with just 3. For a 3 O-ring stack you will need 4 large disks and 3 small disks. I chose to tap the centers of these disks to match the threads on the stainless steel rod, which in this case was 3/8” coarse threads.

Believe it or not I was initially unable to find O-rings that fit this application! I fabricated my own using over-sized O-rings and Loctite Prism cyanoacrylate (superglue) #11. The ends must be diagonally tapered at the butt joint. I’m quite confident that anyone building a gavage pump in the 21st century should be able to find 4” OD O-rings commercially. Obviously the thickness of the O-rings needs to match the thickness of the plunger spacer disks. The ones I used were .240” thick.

The stainless steel rod I used was 14” by 3/8”. Both ends were tapped for 3/8” coarse threads. The plunger disk end was tapped 3” and the T-handle end was tapped 2 & ¼” or just a tad longer than the T-handle is thick. I ground a couple of flat spots on the rod to allow the rod to be chucked into a vice while I tapped the rod. This will also allow the use of a crescent wrench to hold the rod while assembling and disassembling the plunger handle. While I used galvanized washers, I wouldn’t recommend it for anyone building one today. I would stick with all stainless steel washers and nuts. On the plunger disk end I used an ordinary stainless steel nut in the middle, with nylon locking nuts at the end. If I was building this today, I would use nylon locking nuts at all four points; two on the plunger end and two on the T-handle end. Use a washer under all four nuts. Besides a crescent wrench, you will need a socket wrench to access and rotate the nut on the outside end of the T-handle.

The T-handle I used was also plastic, in this case a section of polyethylene whose dimensions are 6” by 1& ¾”. The center hole was counter sunk to allow the nuts and washers to fit inside elegantly and to prevent the center rod from biting into the flesh of the gavage assistant. In my case the countersink was a 1” wide bore.

The tubing I used was Tygon R-1000, 5/16” OD and 3/16” ID. The part number I used was AAU00012. As of this writing, this part number is still current. The tubing length I used was 7’. The end was tapered, and a series of cuts were made into the sides near the end to facilitate fluid flow. These cuts were made with a diagonal wire cutter.

I used PAM brand non-stick spray to lubricate the plunger when performing my act.

As the Modern Primitive subculture progressed, people began to push the envelope in all sorts of ways, mostly with piercings and implants. Tattooing has certainly become more common, yet the technology hasn’t really progressed since the tattoo gun was invented by Thomas Edison. I should like to make a modest proposal, namely that it’s time to push the envelope and embark on a new kind of body modification. This would be powder tattooing as art.

First off, you can’t actually shoot your clients with real bullets, as this tends to diminish repeat business. Instead of using lead bullets, I propose that powdered pigments be used. These pigments would be fired from real firearms, at ranges close to the subject’s skin in order to push the pigments into the dermis. Modern metallic cartridges could be used, although the specialized rounds would have to be hand loaded. Perhaps the pigments would need to be held together with an adhesive binder of some kind, in order for the projectile to be held securely in the cartridge. The technology of tablet manufacturing is well established, and could be adapted to creating pigment projectiles.

In powder tattooing, a whole range of variables opens up which includes the caliber of firearm, the length of the barrel, the distance of the muzzle to the skin, the exact composition of the pigment, the angle of the barrel to the skin, and the brand and mass of the propellant charge. The skin that is not to be tattooed would be covered with a metallic or Kevlar mask.

Imagine you’re an outlaw biker, a real one-percenter, and you want a nice little rose on your ankle. You start off by taping a mask that defines the outline of the rose to your skin. We first apply black pigment, so colored areas are blocked off with adhesive-backed masks. You and the “Shootist” put in earplugs and don eye protection. Safety first! The shootist starts off with a .357 Magnum with a 6” barrel. The “round” is plain black tattoo ink propelled with 4 grains of Hercules powder. The shootist measures the distance to the target, and fires. The distribution of powder will tend to concentrate in the center, so touch-ups would need to be applied to the perimeter. Additional masks could be applied to the center so the periphery is exposed.

Now for the green leaves and the red petals. A new mask is applied that isolates the green leaves. Note that this process is analogous to Japanese woodblock printing in that an entire color is applied at one time. Undoubtedly hipsters will get The Great Wave off Kanagawa ASAP… Since the green is small and isolated, the shootist shifts to a Ruger MKII in .22 caliber. This is a semiautomatic handgun, so the bolt will probably have to be hand-cycled, as we are using “light loads.” This time the shootist moves in very close, perhaps within in inch. The shootist keeps the colors consistent, and goes with Green Dot propellant. Bang! Now we have some sweet leaves…

Now for the tricky part, the red petals. Again, a third mask is applied, which isolates the petals. This element occupies more area than the leaves, so we want greater dispersion. A Charter Arms .44 Bulldog is chosen for its large caliber and short barrel. 5 grains of Red Dot blasts the persimmon pigment into the dermis in a “one shot stop.” No need to double tap this baby…

Though entire patches of color are applied at one time as in Japanese woodblock printing, art aficionados will probably notice the results have a somewhat “stippled” appearance. This results in a more pointillist style. Perhaps in the future, a re-make of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off will be made which features a scene of an entranced teenager starting at a man’s bare back, stippled in the style of Seurat…

As with all things underground eventually the mainstream co-opts the cutting edge, and what was once outre’ becomes ordinary. Some of the old school Master Blasters will sell out, and soon we will see powder tats on the latest Disney pop stars. But the Jonas Brothers of the future won’t have the balls to actually be shot, so this is where pneumatic vaccination guns come in. Since smallpox was eradicated in the human population in 1979, pneumatic vaccine guns have become museum relics. Some enterprising Ed Hardy type will figure out that these can be “re-purposed” and used to inject pigment rather than vaccine. Sure, we’ll have a “crier’s corner” for those who can’t cut it, but by and large a pigment “inoculation” should be less painful than getting “the shot.”

I’ve read a number of essays regarding the moon illusion, some written prosaically and some highly technical. In all the work I’ve read on the subject, I’ve yet to come across what I believe is a rather simple possible explanation, and one whose fundamental principles were understood several hundred years ago!

At this point I need to make an admission. I have failed to do the serious bibliographic work required to get an essay like this taken seriously. I don’t have a degree in psychology or art history so some might dismiss my musings due to lack of credentials. I accept that, yet I’m convinced that my suggestion is at least plausible. Please take this essay for what it is, a suggestion, a preliminary sketch of an idea, not a rigorous argument.

For those not familiar with the moon illusion, it’s the psychological phenomenon whereby a full moon on the horizon seems unusually large; larger than when it’s high in the sky. Astronomers are quick to point out that it’s not an astronomical phenomenon, and defer to psychologists and those specialized in human optical and spatial perception.

For many people “perspective” in art means spatial perspective, i.e. how is three dimensional space depicted? But there is also “aerial perspective” which is (roughly) what effect the atmosphere has on perception of objects at a distance.

Let’s take a look at two paintings from the Renaissance, which will hopefully demonstrate what I’m talking about. The first is Giovanni Bellini’s Pieta’. Obviously the figure of Christ is the focus of the painting, but carefully examine the hillside behind Mary. It doesn’t seem quite “right,” does it? It almost feels composited, as if George Lucas had created it.

Now compare Bellini’s painting to Da Vinci’s Virgin of the Rocks. The rocks in the far distance are far more realistic, and part of the reason why is that Da Vinci’s work was more attentive to aerial perspective than Bellini’s.

When objects are seen at great distances in our atmosphere, they are seen through large masses of air. This tends to do several things. It reduces the contrast of the object as compared with objects at close range, and it reduces detail.

A weird counter-example is how astronauts walking on the moon have reported underestimating the length to big boulders seen at a distance. Da Vinci understood this hundreds of years ago, and astronauts of the 20th century discovered it for themselves: The mass of air between one and a distant object affects one’s spatial perception of the object’s distance.

So how does this factor into the moon illusion? When the moon is at the horizon, several factors are in effect. First off one is looking through a greater mass of air than when the moon is high in the sky. Just like the distant rocks in Da Vinci’s painting, the moon has less detail than when it’s high in the sky. Because the full moon rises not long after the sun sets, the moon also has less contrast against the still-illuminated sky in which it rises.

In my opinion, these two characteristics are sufficient to trigger the brain’s natural perception that the moon is at a great distance. From there our brains naturally adjudge the object to have great absolute size, thus the perception that the moon is larger at the horizon.

In my opinion, the moon illusion is nothing more than a rather unique example of the brain’s natural reaction to aerial perspective.

When I was in high school, I used a conventional sewing awl to repair a leather belt I owned:

This was a scan of an old ad from Popular Mechanics magazine. This tool has been around for a long time.

I stitched the entire perimeter of the belt, as it was composed of two pieces of leather that had been sewn together in the first place. As I recall, the initial stitching had failed, and so this was a repair.

The amount of labor that went into this project was enormous, and made an impression on me. You still see numerous leather items that are composed of two slats of leather that are stitched together, like this folding knife scabbard for a belt:

Notice how the ends of the two belt loop slits terminate in round holes. This helps reduce the chances that the tear will propagate.

Stitching is not the most robust means of attachment, and so myself and others have sought ways around this design weakness. The venerable Leatherman tool scabbard is one superb example:

It has no stitching at all, and uses only four rivets:

Despite the obvious advantage of rivets, only two kinds of rivets are commonly available to the average consumer; “pop” rivets, and “cutler” rivets. Pop rivets leave a large bump on one side, and are unsightly for an aesthetic craft project. Cutler rivets are nicely flat on both sides, yet are available only in thicknesses appropriate for knife handles, as far as I know. The rivets you see on the Leatherman pouch are obviously a proprietary design. Thus one needs to make peace with the venerable sewing awl, as it’s very hard not to need stitching at least somewhere…

Fast forward many years. In about 2003 I decided to modify the standard sewing awl to become a more functional tool. I  flattened and colored one side of the sewing awl to provide visual and tactile cues. When withdrawing the needle from the work, I place my thumb on the wound thimble which enables good control of thread tension. Since the tool is now asymmetrical or “two sided”, I placed the spindle in an “overshot” configuration.

I replaced the flimsy thimble axle with a #10 fine hex-head machine screw. Existing holes were re-tapped for #10 fine threads. A much more robust design, with much less “play” on the thimble:

A short section of 3/8″ fuel line formed an effective scabbard for the sharp needle. It fit over the needle chuck nicely:

I use 130 pound test Spectra fishing line for “thread”. It must be admitted that the enormous tensile strength of such a product is probably overkill, as the stitching is more likely to fail due to abrasion rather than stress and strain. Yet the relatively large diameter of the line has the counterintuitive advantage of being less likely to cut into the base material. Since Spectra is polyethylene, it can be literally welded, which is a much better way to terminate the line of stitching than with just a knot. But to ensure a proper sewn termination, tie the ends off with a knot, then weld the knot. If you do it right, you can flatten the heated polymer to a more aesthetic “button” shape before it cools and hardens. The spool of line seen here is for me most likely a lifetime supply:

Having worn various tools in belt pouches for a number of years, It occurred to me sometime in the early 2000′s that if one started with a material that was tubular to begin with, that no side stitching would be required. Luckily for me, I was able to obtain sections of used firehose at an industrial supplier here in Seattle. Here is a flashlight belt scabbard that I made out of small diameter firehose. Note the inclusion of enlarged holes at the ends of the belt loop incision:

Note that only one end of the scabbard required stitching:

Being that firehose is a composite, with rubber on the inside bonded to a synthetic overbraid, the material’s edges can be heat sealed. Ultimately my flashlight scabbard was a mixed success; despite the heat sealing, the main flap began to pucker and fray:

And one of the belt loop cut-outs began to tear.

Perhaps the material I chose was too intrinsically flimsy.  I had better luck with a key pouch made out of firehose:

I’ve used it for several years now, and am happy with the results. Again, note that only one edge of the pouch needs stitching, due to its tubular morphology. Unlike the flashlight pouch, I forgot to truncate the corners! Nevertheless, I’ve never been poked by the stiff corners, and I haven’t had any pockets wear out because of it. Were I to do it again, I hope I’d remember to include that simple feature:

It’s possible to get tubular synthetic firehose overbraid that has no rubber bonded to it:

Being tubular, the ends of a segment can be everted, then sewn shut. This can provide a particularly aesthetic way to terminate an end.

I obtained a long section of some synthetic tubing in 4cm width. I don’t think it’s firehose overbraid though; I suspect it’s used for overhead crane straps:

This width I found very useful, as I’ve made knife scabbards and belts out of it:

As an aside, the yellow material on the knife handle is heat shrink tubing, a unique and valuable material in its own right.

Creating the knife scabbard was simple as pie, and being that the closed end experienced no mechanical stress, I didn’t even stitch it closed, I just heat sealed it:

The belt buckle I welded myself:

The bifurcation you see on the revolute joint is due to it being two steel washers welded to a segment of steel rod. Part of the main body I bent, and part I welded, thus accounting for the differences in the corners. Were I to do it again, I’d probably weld all joints.

Being tubular, the only stitching required on the strapping is what you see just below the buckle. A “tongue” was cut out of the tube, wrapped around the steel buckle, tucked back into the tube, then sewn shut.

The belt buckle holes were formed with a red hot poker (a sharpened machine screw). One could use a needle nosed soldering iron, but that would leave plastic residue on your iron. Over time mechanical stresses will distort the base material, so this is not an ideal, long term solution. But I’ve had this belt buckle for several years now, with no major malfunctions:

The most recent hole is to the far left, as I’ve lost weight recently. As you can see the middle holes have become distorted over time.

I have a strong intuition that firehose and tubular strapping are useful and robust materials for crafts projects, and I simply haven’t been able to think of further applications for it. Perhaps this webpage will act as a useful starting point for others who can see what I can’t. Good luck!