Posts Tagged ‘Tektronix’

Computers 1967-2011: a personal perspective. Part 3. 1990-1994.

Tuesday, July 12th, 2011

In 1986 or so, molecular modelling came of age. Richard Counts, who ran an organisation called QCPE (here I had already submitted several of the program codes I had worked on) had a few years before contacted me to ask for my help with his Roadshow. He had started these in the USA as a means of promoting QCPE, which was the then main repository of chemistry codes, and as a means of showing people how to use the codes. My task was to organise a speakers list, the venue being in Oxford in a delightful house owned by the university computing services. Access to VAX computers was provided, via VT100 terminals. Amazingly, these terminals could do very primitive molecular graphics (using delightfully named escape codes, which I learnt to manipulate).

An expert on the use of such codes was George Purvis, who hailed from the quantum theory project at the University of Florida at Gainesville. He had developed QUIPU for VAX/VT100 and together we had much fun setting things up for the participants at these QCPE workshops (which ran 1986-1990). During one session, George asked me whether I thought a properly implemented and reasonably cheap graphical user interface might have commercial potential in chemistry. Remember, the VAX/Evans&Sutherland PS390 system we had acquired in 1987 was NOT cheap. I must have encouraged him, since in 1990 George (now part of the CACHE, or computer assisted chemistry, group at the Tektronix corporation in Beaverton) had brought to market a “shrink-wrapped” system which did just that. This was, in many ways, well ahead of its time. It was based on a then state-of-the-art Macintosh computer, with a co-processor that could crunch floating point numbers quite fast (this was then very rare in so called personal computers, being reserved for supercomputers). It had a unique spherical trackball (almost a haptic device) for rotating molecules, and a liquid crystal polarized screen running at 120Hz (60Hz for the left eye, 60Hz for the right eye). Wearing polarized (passive) glasses, the stereo 3D effect via the 19″ screen (big for its day) was awe inspiring. What is more, two people could sit at it and both see molecules in stereo.

We managed to get a grant to purchase such a system, and I well remember taking it to the 1990 Oxford workshop (I had now taken over from Richard for the UK workshops) in the back of my car. This involved driving to my office on a Saturday, and heaving the thing out. A security guard saw me doing this and arrested me. After much ado, I was forced to take the CACHE to my office and told not to try that again. I waited 30 minutes, and took it out the back door (which nowadays has a black security camera watching it, but in those days was not guarded) and on to Oxford (checking for police sirens all the way). I think I made the trip to Oxford with this thing in the back of the car one more time, where I used it to give a poster at a conference, handing out the 3D glasses to anyone who expressed an interest (and reclaiming them rapidly if they posed no interesting question). I still fancy this was almost unique in the history of posters (which tend, even nowadays, to be printed on paper). Reflecting on this, I realise that my total aversion to Powerpoint probably dates from that time.

At this stage, I will tell you about some of the science we did with the remarkable stereographical 3D CACHE system. The first is our realisation that the Pirkle reagent exhibits a π-facial hydrogen bond from the OH group (DOI: 10.1039/C39910000765). Indeed, I notice that four of the posts here relate to this topic! Once you know what you are looking for, its trivial to spot. But I recollect that the crystallographers who did the structure for us had failed to identify this unusual hydrogen bond; it took the CACHE, and its 3D glasses, for us to notice it.

But the really important breakthrough using CACHE was a different molecule, halofantrine (X=Y=Cl, DOI: 10.1039/C39940001135) an antimalarial pharmaceutical molecule.

Halofantrine.

At this stage, pharmaceutical companies were assiduously resolving chiral compounds into their enantiomers and testing each separately for biological activity. It had been noticed that whereas X=H, Y=Cl could NOT be resolved on a chiral column, replacing X=H by X=Cl suddenly made it possible to do so. But why? Well, in order to inspect this with the CACHE system, we asked for the crystal structure to be done. Back it came and Mike Webb and I sat inspecting the coordinates in full stereoscopic glory, as I recollect for about an hour, twiddling the viewpoint here and there. Each of us would take over the haptic trackball for 10-15 minutes, and we would then discuss what we saw. In one of those magical moments (I can assure you that shivers do run down one’s back at moments like this) we spotted that X=H had a strong hydrogen bond to the OH of another molecule, whereas X=Cl did not. Suppressing that C-H…O interaction forces the molecule to π-π stack instead, and this mode now enables it to better interact with the chiral column and hence resolve.

Halofantrine. Click for 3D.

Some of that magic is recreated above. If you click on the image, the coordinates will be loaded. Now that the relevant interaction is highlighted, it is so easy to spot you might wonder how anyone would have ever missed it!. At any rate, shortly after writing this article, I sat down to write another on a new phenomenon called the World-Wide-Web. And to illustrate why the Web might become important, we highlighted halofantrine, and how the Web could carry such immediately visual information to its readers. This blog, in effect, is a direct descendent of that article (which, by the way, is still available in HTML form here). So, 3D graphics led to the (chemical) Web. What a tangled web indeed.

And to end with 3D. I live in hope that shortly, stereoscopic tablets will make an appearance. Given that the CACHE system noted above was heavy (it was a major struggle moving the monitor into the car, as described above), it will be an amazing evolution to see (almost) pocket sized devices being carried around for the same purpose.

Computers 1967-2011: a personal perspective. Part 1. 1967-1985.

Thursday, July 7th, 2011

Computers and I go back a while (44 years to be precise), and it struck me (with some horror) that I have been around them for ~62% of the modern computing era (Babbage notwithstanding, ~1940 is normally taken as the start of the modern computing era). So indulge me whilst I record this perspective from the viewpoint of the computers I have used over this 62% of the computing era.

  1. 1967: I encountered (but that term has to be qualified) my first computer, suggested to me as an alternative to running quarter marathons on Wimbledon common at school by an obviously enlightened teacher! I wrote a program (in Algol) on paper tape, put the tape in an envelope, and sent it off to Imperial College (by van) to run, on an IBM 7094. A week later, printed output showed you had made a mistake on line 1 of the program. As I recollect, after about eight weeks of this, I got the program to run (and calculated π to 5 decimal places).
  2. 1970: By now I was a student (again at Imperial College), and was introduced to Fortran, then a radical new innovation to a chemistry degree. The delightfully named pufft compiler combined with the 7094 again, but this time with punched Holerith cards as input and line printer output. I cannot remember what we were asked to program. I do remember that the punched cards were produced by a pool of punch card operators, working from code pages written by the programmer. Some students (not me!) thought it great fun to give their Fortran variables naughty names (which the punch card operators then refused to punch, thus causing the student to fail the course!).
  3. 1971: I really liked this programming lark, so when instant-turnaround was introduced that year, I decided to do a proper program. It was called NLADAD (yes, I was no good at names, even then), which stood for non-linear-analysis of donor-acceptor complexes. The idea was to take recorded NMR chemical shifts, and fit them to an equilibrium A+B ⇔ AB+B ⇔ AB2 using non-linear regression analysis. It must have been all of 200 lines of code (OK, I did not write the matrix inversion routine myself)! Instant turnaround was also great, you got to punch your own cards this time, and had the great excitement of feeding them into a card reader yourself. You then walked about 5 yards to the line printer and waited agog. No waiting one week, this was less than a minute. Or it would have been if the line printer did not paper-wreck every two minutes! (I might add that I have a dim recollection of a member of the computer centre staff standing by to recover these paper wrecks. He, by the way, is now the director of the ICT division here!).
  4. 1972: I am now doing a PhD (yes, boringly, yet again at Imperial College). I had found the one and only teletypewriter in the chemistry department. The crystallographers had secreted it away in their empire, but were very dismayed to find me occupying it constantly. Instant was now even more instant. I was now connecting to a time-sharing CDC 6400 computer, at the dazzling speed of 110 baud (or bytes per second). These were small bytes by the way, since the CDC used 6 bits per byte. The result was that one did everything in UPPER CASE, since a 6-bit byte only allows 64 characters! My (still Fortran) programs reached probably 1000 lines of code now, and I was engrossed in deriving non-linear analyses of steady state chemical kinetics (about four different kinds of rate equation as I recollect). Ah, the joys of covariance analysis, and propagation of errors (I was in a kinetics lab, and all the other students plotted graphs on graph paper, and if pressed, plotted gradients of graphs, the so-called Guggenheim plots. I thought this the dark ages, but no-one volunteered to join me in this single teletypewriter room. Not even the attractive girls in the group. I was the geek of my time, no doubt about that. My kinetic analysis did however have one upside. Its how I meet my wife to be a few years later!).
  5. 1974: PhD completed, I was now ready to go to Texas, where everything is bigger (and in terms of computers, slightly better, a CDC 6600 now and a 300 baud teletypewriter!). I had been computing now for seven years, and finally I actually got to SEE the device for the very first time. My mentor, Michael Dewar, had a sort of special relationship with the university. His students (and possibly only his students) were allowed to go into the depths of the machine room, where behind plate glass you could see the CDC 6600. I soon learnt how to get even closer. It was not particularly exciting however. I was more entranced with the CALCOMP flatbed plotter, which was located next to the 6600. Pictures at last (you probably do not want to know that to convert my kinetics in 4 above to pictures, I got quite expert in using a french curve. Look it up before you jump to conclusions). Part of the pact I negotiated was that I was only allowed into the inner sanctum at 03:00 in the morning (sic!). Still a geek then! Oddly, I was one of the few students in Dewar’s group using the CALCOMP, but at least we now had pictures of the molecules I was now calculating (using MINDO/3). To put the computing power into context, in 1975, Paul Weiner, another group member, announced that he had completed a full geometry optimisation of LSD, this having taken about 4 days to do on that over-worked 6600. The entire group went out to celebrate. Many pitchers of beer were drunk that nite.

    Computer graphics from 1976.

  6. 1977: Back to Imperial, where we might have also now had a CDC 6600. And a Tektronix terminal running at the dizzying (hardwired end-to-end) speed of 9600 baud. I learnt to Word process on this device (using a word processor, written in Fortran, although not by me) and I wrote three review articles by this means, using a fancy phototypesetter as the printer. My next program, STEK, probably ran to about 5000 lines of code, and it persuaded the Tektronix to plot all sorts of things, ball&stick diagrams, isometric potential surfaces, molecular orbitals, and the like (and jumping ahead, my experience with this program eventually led to CML, and Peter Murray-Rust, but that is indeed jumping ahead). I think I also managed to gain access to the Imperial machine room, that inner sanctum, yet again. But for reasons I will not go into, it was not as interesting as the Texan machine room.

    Chemistry Computer graphics, circa 1977-85.

  7. 1979: I encountered a Cray 1 computer, and probably also 8-bit bytes (and yes, lower case printer outputs) for the first time at the University of London Computing Centre.
  8. 1980: Remember that teletypewriter, encountered earlier. Well these were now running at 2400 baud and I started to organise the deployment of a chemistry department computer network to sprinkle several such terminals around the department. The controller was a PAD, and in that year, we introduced STN ONLINE using this network. It was the first time we could search CAS online ourselves (previously, it was a service offered by the library). Literature searching has not been the same since.
  9. 1980: I finally again encountered a real computer, which one could happily listen to without creeping into machine rooms in the middle of the night. It was the data system on a Bruker Spectrospin 250 MHz superconducting NMR spectrometer. I had many adventures on this system. It was installed, by the way, on more or less the same day as the birth of my first daughter Joana. It had a hard drive (5 Mbytes as I recollect, and cost an absolute fortune, around £10,000 if I remember correctly).

    Combining Quantum mechanics and NMR.

    Computer graphics 1982, from NMR spectrometer.

  10. 1982: More networks, this time a curious computer known as the Corvus Concept, using a networked hard drive (possibly as big as 20 Mbytes by now), and a large screen.
  11. 1985: Enter the Mac (OK, the IBM PC came a little earlier, but it was not entrancing). Now one really had a tactile computer that made noises (not always nice), produced smoke signals occasionally, and ejected its floppy disk incessantly. Yet another revolution to cope with. As I type this, I look down on that Mac, which is still underneath my desk. Wonder if its worth anything on ebay?

Well, a second consecutive blog, with (almost) no pictures or molecules. And I have only gotten to the half way stage of my story. Better break off then.