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There were huge crowds at Maker Faire 2008. While no attendance figures were known yet, there were rumors that the event's ticket pre-sales had doubled over Maker Faire 2007's. Regardless, it was clear that the event was attracting many more people than during the last two Maker Faires, in 2006 and 2007.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

SAN MATEO, Calif.--If the hour-long traffic jam leading into Maker Faire wasn't proof that the do-it-yourself festival being held here all weekend is bigger than ever, then maybe the huge crowds gathered around attraction after attraction was.

This is the third year that Maker Faire has packed the San Mateo Fairgrounds with the best and brightest of the burgeoning DIY community--mobile barcalougers, dueling Tesla coils, huge Burning Man art pieces, felt masterpieces, and on and on--and there can be little doubt the success of the previous two years' iterations led to a bigger crowd this time around.

In 2006, the first Maker Faire was a bit of an oddity, yet still attracted 20,000 people for the weekend. Last year, that number doubled and while I didn't hear any attendance figures for this year, I did overhear someone saying that ticket pre-sales had doubled over last year's total. All this is just the math behind the wall-to-wall people moving around the fairgrounds--most of them sporting ear-to-ear grins.

At Maker Faire 2008, there was a very large contingent of steampunk vehicles, structures and clothing. Here, a steampunk vehicle resembling a tractor powers its way across the pavement of the San Mateo Fairgrounds in San Mateo, Calif., where the do-it-yourself festival is being held all weekend.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

For me, and many others who have been to the previous Maker Faires, this weekend's version was more like a reunion than a showcase of new projects. To be sure, there was an endless supply of new makers on hand. How could there not be with hall after hall of creative people showing off the talents, skills, and wicked good humor that is the hallmark of events like this.

But, there was also a lot on display that had been at previous Maker Faires--and other events, too, like Burning Man, Yuri's Night, Coachella, and so forth. These days, a lot of big interactive art pieces are making the rounds of such festivals and events and some of the artists behind them, people like Michael Christian, Dan Das Mann and Karen Cusolito, Mark Perez, and others, are becoming known beyond the relatively insular communities they began in.

But, let's be honest: None of that matters when what you see when wandering around Maker Faire is excited kids, happy parents and young, attractive men and women dressed to the nines in period costumery.

One of the first things that one would see when entering Maker Fair was Kevin Mathieu's LegoJEEP. The car was meant for covering with Lego bricks, and it was a huge hit with kids. However, Maker Faire security was not too happy to see children climbing on top of the vehicle, but in the spirit of the event, after security voiced its concerns, Mathieu restricted kids to standing on the ground or on the bumper. The car and the resolution to security's issues with it, were emblematic of the do-it-yourself ethos and the desire of its participants to solve problems themselves.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

And that is really the message that Maker Faire sends: That there are delights for everyone, whether you're a robotics fanatic, a Lego fan, a crafting devotee, a fire artist, a 9-year-old, or all of the above.

Those of us who live in the Bay Area might be tempted to think that this is the only place on Earth where you could find such an eclectic combination of people. Yet, as the very successful Maker Faire Austin last fall demonstrated, there are such folks in many places. What's really needed to bring them out of the woodwork is an event that champions their creativity, glee, and interest that people of all kinds get from hours and hours of playing around with the kinds of things that Maker Faire offers.

So, indeed, what does Maker Faire 2008 have to offer?

I could go on and on and on and on. But in the interest of your time and mine, I'll only go on and on.

Colin Fahrion poses for a picture wearing a whimsical steampunk-esque bunny mask and ears. The outfit was emblematic of a popular aesthetic at Maker Faire this year.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

One wonderful project was the Buscycle, a fully pedal-powered bus of sorts. You'd see it rolling by all over the fairgrounds, a happy collection of children and adults thrashing their feet, driving it forward. I had seen it sitting idly on Thursday when I visited the fairgrounds for Maker Day--a day for the makers to meet each other and get a bit of a taste for the event before they had to entertain the multitudes--and I'd wondered if it would be special. Question answered: Yes.

Another terrific--and very popular--attraction was the remote-control scale battleship naval wars that were being put on by members of the Western Warship Combat Club. In front of hundreds of people lined up four-deep or standing up on bleachers, these folks ran their little warships around a makeshift pool, firing BBs from ship to ship, trying to sink them. Little ships would get damaged, and then, showing no mercy, those running much bigger vessels would ram their craft into the smaller ones, all to the gasps and "Oohhhs" of the crowd.

There were hourly demonstrations of dueling Tesla coils that, with dimmed lights for full dramatic effect, would build up to a crescendo of commingled lightning bolts crackling away in front of an audience lucky enough to have wandered by at the right time.

In one outdoor area, the Neverwas Haul was attracting a long line of people wanting to climb inside a fully steam-powered, mobile, Victorian house. If that's a concept that boggles the mind, don't let it: A mobile Victorian house is exactly the kind of disconnect that Maker Faire is all about.

That's why, for example, Mark Perez's gigantic, Life-Size Mousetrap was a massive hit this weekend, with hundreds of people lining up to watch and see if a bowling ball could make it all the way around a long path of levels, pulleys, ramps, baskets, ladders, and the like. I never actually managed to see it running because the crowds were too deep. But when I've seen it in place previously, at Maker Faires here and in Austin, and at Burning Man, it's been a thrill to watch it in action.

A fire art project called 2piR tasked people standing on a platform in the middle of a circle of propane-fueled jets to move around and set the jets off with large plumes of fire. The more they moved, the faster the jets would shoot.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

What else? Well, no story could do the event full justice. But the sublime 2piR was well worth highlighting. This is a fire art piece in which a large circle of propane tanks connected to jets shoots out plumes of fire in time with the movements of people standing on a platform in the middle. The more you move, the more the jets of fire erupt on the perimeter. As the day grew cold Saturday, many people huddled on the outside of that perimeter, hoping that the players in the middle would cause the plumes to erupt near them and warm them up. Sadly for me and my friends, the propane fueling the jet nearest us was empty.

Several people were on hand at Maker Faire demonstrating what's possible with aerial kite photography, a technique in which a digital camera is harnessed and hung from a kite and then raised to shoot pictures of the ground below.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

Earlier in the day, I had wandered through the various halls and came across a terrific exhibit of aerial kite photography. An artist named Ben Peoples explained that a small camera suspended from a harness under a kite can be controlled with precise movements and with some practice, can be used to take excellent photos from high above the ground. And indeed, there was a series of the photos on display, and you would never know from looking at them that they weren't taken by a professional with a camera in hand, maybe inside a helicopter or a plane.

Another project I liked was Michael Yates' "Camp Rehab Chevy," a collaborative effort to rebuild a very worn down 1948 Chevy truck and bring it back to life. As I found it, it was still pretty beat up and sad, but a group of people were tinkering around in the engine and inside the cab, and I had no doubt that by weekend's end, this might well be a functional truck.

The point of all this is that Maker Faire is a place where there is almost literally no end of wondrous attractions and terrific little finds. Tucked away in a corner of a hall, you might find some little delight that you'd never think you'd find: someone with a series of LEDs being spun around in seemingly random circles, making gorgeous patterns in the air, like Carl Pisaturo's "Rotating Amusement Device," or Tim Giugni's "Shadow Dome," a terrific exhibit which projected a shadow castle on the wall of a canvas room with a spotlight inside.

It's not likely that if you're reading this story that you'd be able to hop in the car and make it to the fairgrounds before Maker Faire closes Sunday--at 6 p.m.--but if what you're reading here piques your interest and you've never been before, mark the first weekend of May 2009 on your calendar and make a point of coming down next year. You will not be disappointed.

Two days before the third annual Bay Area edition of Maker Faire, the few art projects in place were only partly done. Here, the Neverwas Haul, a steam-powered, mobile, Victorian house, waits to be completed.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

SAN MATEO, Calif.--The best thing about going to Maker Faire a couple of days before the gates officially open is watching it grow.

Walk a couple of times around the fairgrounds here, where the do-it-yourself bacchanalia will welcome tens of thousands of people starting Saturday, and you'll see new projects appear each time you go around: A stream of trucks keeps coming through the gates, each one hauling a new group of people and whatever fantastical art, heavy machine, oddball musical instrument or other insane contents it might be carrying.

This was Maker Day, a day for the many, many makers whose individual DIY projects are Maker Faire to meet and greet and hear a series of talks on issues near and dear to their hearts: extreme crafting, the future of making, how to make money with open-source hardware kits, and much more. And to see these projects come to life.

Get a behind-the-scenes tour in the full report on News.com.

The mojito-mixing contraption in this picture is Robomoji. Its 32-year-old inventor, a German man named Robert Martin.

(Credit: Jacob Appelbaum/Roboexotica.org)

Over at Boing Boing this morning, I see that uber-blogger/novelist/speaker/electronic freedom fighter Cory Doctorow is planning on speaking at the Roboexotica symposium that gets under way in Vienna, Austria, tomorrow.

I hadn't heard of Roboexotica myself until I was in Austin, Texas, last month covering the Maker Faire there. At dinner one night with some of the Maker Faire folks, I Make Things video blogger Bre Petis started telling me about the event. And as often happens when smart people tell me about amazing things, my inner geek got very excited.

If you're not familiar with Roboexotica, this is how it's explained on the official Web site: "Until recently, no attempts had been made to publicly discuss the role of cocktail robotics as an index for the integration of technological innovations into the human Lebenswelt, or to document the increasing occurrence of radical hedonism in man-machine communication. Roboexotica is an attempt to fill this vacuum. It is the first and, inevitably, the leading festival concerned with cocktail robotics worldwide. A micro mechanical change of paradigm in the age of borderless capital. Alan Turing would doubtless test this out."

Starting tomorrow, a conference on cocktail-serving robots begins in Vienna, Austria.

(Credit: Roboexotica)

Now, I don't know what "Lebenswelt" means but I get the gist of it. In fact, if it weren't for the fact that people I know to be serious about things like this were actually traveling to Vienna, I might have thought Roboexotica was a prank. After all, "cocktail robotics?"

But it is real, and I wish I were going.

What I can see on the English version of the festival's site, however, looks pretty interesting. You've got Doctorow speaking about "why consciousness uploading, post-human existence and life after the Singularity are popular today, and why science fiction is always about the present," and Petis is doing his own talk on "the apocalyptic utopia."

Fun stuff.

Now all we need to do is figure out how to get the organizers to do a San Francisco edition of their event sometime in the future, and I can guarantee a rabid local response. Zombies, meet cocktail-serving robots.

At TechShop, in Menlo Park, Calif., members can come in any day of the week to learn about using fabrication tools like plasma cutters, laser etchers, 3D printers, computerized sewing machines, and more.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

After covering three Maker Faires over the last year and a half, one thing has become clear: there are one heck of a lot of people out there who like to make things.

For many people, this means toiling away in a garage, or a small workroom, using whatever tools they have handy. But there are limitations on what most people can make simply because they don't have that many tools and certainly don't have easy access to industrial fabrication tools.

Well, if you're in or near Silicon Valley, you may not know that you already have access to a place that will welcome you with open arms into its bosom of fabrication machinery heaven: TechShop.

My story about TechShop is up on CNET News.com this morning. It looks at what this great place is, and talks about the expansion that will bring TechShop franchises to eight new cities around the country by next July 4, and to two more Bay Area cities sometime after that.

TechShop, the brainchild of inventor and entrepreneur Jim Newton, is not for everyone. It charges $100 a month for all-you-can-eat access to its nearly endless supply of plasma cutters, laser etchers, 3D printers, milling machines, welding equipment, and more. But for those who can swing the monthly Benjamin, it's a place where a maker community has blossomed since it opened its doors last October, and where some pretty cool stuff is being made every day.

If you go, tell the telepresence robot that's walking around that Daniel says hi.

AUSTIN, Texas--The most important thing right now is to make sure no one gets hit by flying watermelons.

Maker Faire show producer Louise Glasgow (left) talks intently with a crew member.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

Under usual circumstances, this might be an odd concern. But I'm here in the Texas capital for Maker Faire, and the three organizers--Dale Dougherty, Louise Glasgow and Sherry Huss--just want to be sure that there are no safety issues with the fruit-launching trebuchet that has been set up on the west side of the event.

I've been riding around with Glasgow, Maker Faire's event producer, for a little while, hoping to see what she encounters in the course of the first day of the event, which took place Saturday and Sunday at the Travis County Fairgrounds.

After spending only a little time with her, one thing has already become clear: This woman is all about business.

It's not that she can't enjoy herself. Rather, it's that from the minute I hopped onto her golf cart, she has been a blur of motion, zipping from one place to the next, weaving in between attendees, talking on her radio, stopping to check in with crew members, and then repeating the whole process.

When I first got on, she is in the middle of trying to drum up participants for a parade of art bikes and other moving sculpture. Then, just like that, she has moved on to try to ensure the trebuchet isn't going to conflict in any way with the model rocketeers. Conflict, in this case, would be a Maker Faire version of Patriot missiles shooting down Scuds.

This is the third Maker Faire, but only the first in Austin. So while Glasgow and her fellow lead organizers have institutional memory to work with, they're also new to this city and want to be sure they get it right.

After months of planning and days of setup, it's finally the moment of truth.

And it looks like it's all paying off. Glasgow seems quite pleased as she notes, perhaps to herself, perhaps to me, "It's like a constant flow (of attendees) coming in now, which is nice."

By now, we've been joined by Huss, Maker Faire's director, and we're continuing the mad pace around the fairgrounds. You'd be tempted to think that Glasgow's just patrolling randomly, but it actually seems very much like she's a woman with a definite plan.

Maker Faire organizers (from left) Dale Dougherty, Sherry Huss and Glasgow discuss safety measures involved in a trebuchet that launches melons hundreds of feet.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

As we approach a fence separating the fairgrounds from the parking lot, we encounter Dougherty, the editor and publisher of Make magazine and the co-organizer of this 48-hour celebration of do-it-yourself culture, hacking, carnival silliness, fire art and so much more.

Every other time I've run across Dougherty during the time I've been here--I came two days early to Maker Faire Austin to play the role of "embedded reporter"--he's been in a largely jovial mood. Now he's agitated, complaining that the two parking lot attendants on the other side of the fence are not adequately directing attendees to the entry gates.

Glasgow assures him she'll take care of it, and she, Huss and I head in that direction to solve the problem.

We approach the two attendants, who apparently don't speak English, and Glasgow proceeds to engage in a half-English, half-pantomime attempt at conveying the proper instructions. They nod their assent and we drive off. Whether they actually understood was not entirely clear to me.

All summer, Glasgow has been visiting Austin, checking out other events at the fairgrounds and visiting other venues around town in a bid to understand what works and what doesn't in this entertainment-crazy town.

She and Huss have also been working hard to build relationships with the vendors for the event, as well as with institutions and communities in town to help drum up interest for the Maker Faire and ensure they don't breach important protocols.

Rich Bailey, chief of staff for the mayor of Austin (center), offers a mayoral proclamation declaring Maker Faire weekend in the city.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

"I look at it like I'm setting up 20 rows of dominos, then making sure" they fall the right way, Glasgow says. "If something goes off track, we know what track it's going to fall into."

Among the organizations that the two have reached out to are South by Southwest, the Austin City Limits music festival, the Burning Flipside regional Burning Man event, the Austin Children's Museum, the local video game development community, the University of Texas radio station--all in the hopes that each group could build bridges to the overall Austin community.

By now, we've found our way to the head of the parade route, and we've stopped momentarily to watch.

Just when it seems that Glasgow has forgotten her frenetic countenance, she spots a normal car parked up ahead along the parade route and suddenly we're off to intercept it.

We actually move so quickly that as we hit a bump. Huff's radio falls off the cart. No matter, Glasgow approaches the poorly located car, has a quick conversation with its driver and then grabs a nearby crew member to deal with the situation.

For the most part, Maker Faire is made up of exhibitors who come to demonstrate their mad science or show off their wares or educate the public. But the event is also "anchored" by some major groups hired by the Maker Faire. In Austin, that included two previous Maker Faire anchors--Cyclecide, a carnival bicycle rodeo, and the Life Size Mousetrap, a version of the kid's game on human growth hormone--and now a third group, the self-described freak show 999 Eyes.

Glasgow talks to a driver about moving her car out of the way of an approaching parade.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

And as we drive in between 999 Eyes and the Mousetrap, Glasgow hits the golf cart's brakes as the sheriff, or at least a deputy, walks up. They begin talking. Though I can't hear very much of what they're saying, I can tell it's largely friendly.

"I could tell from the first time I met you," Glasgow says to the officer, "that I wanted you on my team."

Further, she adds, he should make sure to mark his calendar for Maker Faire Austin 2008, next October.

That's the first I've heard specific mention of there being another Maker Faire here next year.

But it's not hard to see why. By the end of Sunday, Huss tells me that she estimates total attendance for the weekend in the low-20,000s, which is almost exactly on par with the first Maker Faire in San Mateo, Calif. That venue, in its second go-round this May, hit 40,000-plus. So things look good for Austin.

I ask about the 2008 event, and Huss says that it had already pretty much been assumed that there would be a second Maker Faire here, and that, in fact, you pretty much have to go into putting something like this on with the understanding that it's a multiple-year project.

One measure of success for Maker Faire Austin was its ability to create a good relationship with law enforcement.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

For the most part, Huss and Glasgow seem very happy. There are at least a few things they'd like to see be different.

From Huss' perspective, the most important might be getting more sponsorships from local major corporations. That's particularly so, she said, because Maker Faire is not a profitable venture, even in California. She said the Bay Area events just about broke even, and that Austin is not assured of even that. So, clearly more money would be good.

Another thing she'd like to see is a "food makers" section in which the so-called Makers could sell their food. That's because, currently, Maker Faire can only sell food made by approved vendors.

"Our audience doesn't want corn dogs," Huss says.

To be fair, there are other choices, like fajitas, but her point is well taken. If people were able to make and sell whatever they wanted--within reason, of course--there could be a much more interesting selection.

Finally, we pull up in front of the main Maker Faire building, where Harrod Blank, the spiritual leader of the art car movement, has gathered several examples of the genre, including one that was donated in perfect, normal shape, and which is being actively permanently decorated by participants. By now, it looks amazing, and shows a lot of promise to get even better.

As Huss and Glasgow get into a friendly conversation with Blank, I decide that this is where I'll get off.

As I walk away, I'm reminded of something Glasgow said to me during the ride.

Talking about the infrastructure of the event and her experience putting it all together for what is now the third, mostly successful, time.

"It's like building a house," Glasgow said. "There's certain things that won't go up without a foundation."

Maker Faire safety officer Joseph Pred talking to Star Wheel creator Paul daPlumber about any safety issues that might come up with the bicycle-technology-powered carnival ride.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET Networks)

AUSTIN, TEXAS--Joseph Pred is carefully eyeing the giant rolling ferris-wheel-like carnival ride as it begins to head down the first hill it has encountered since being built three years ago.

Known as the Star Wheel, the bicycle-technology-powered ride is glorious fun. But since it carries three pedaling people in its interior, Pred is very interested in making sure that the Star Wheel's creators are in control of it as it starts to head down the hill.

Pred is the safety officer for Maker Faire, the weekend-long celebration of do-it-yourself culture that's wrapping up here today. He's in charge of making sure that the million moving parts that make up such an event don't result in things going wrong and people getting hurt, or that at least if someone does get injured, it's not because of negligence on the part of the organizers or the exhibitors.

And right now, his focus is entirely on the Star Wheel and its initial encounter with degrees of incline.

"They're testing it because they've never done it on a grade," says Pred as he watches the wheel's progress. "They're testing the tolerances. My job is to observe and help them figure it out and give them a nudge. And they're doing a good job."

I've come here to Austin to report not just on Maker Faire--as I've done before--but also to write about what goes on behind the scenes. So talking to someone like Pred, who is invisible but crucial to the countless artists and attendees at an event like this, seemed natural.

This role is no stretch for Pred: He's played the same role at both of the previous Maker Faires, in San Mateo, Calif., in May 2006 and May 2007. And though he's based in the San Francisco Bay Area, the show's organizers have hired him to come to the Texas capital with them because he offers an irreplaceable combination of technical skill, long-term relationships with many of the people who are exhibiting, and an understanding of how to interface with government agencies like the sheriff and the fire department.

But as much as you might think that the safety officer's job would be filled with tales of gory incidents and exciting adventures, Pred says the reverse is actually the reality.

"My job is basically to make things not happen," Pred, who runs the Bay Area company, Mutual Aid Response Services (MARS), says. "A lot of the work is involved with pre-planning, being proactive, reviewing safety plans, and making sure that the artists and the (exhibitors) just have common sense....But the makers are, by and large, responsible for the safety of their projects, and to be fair, the makers are generally experts at what they're doing already, so it's not a big stretch."

One reason he knows this is that he has worked with or known many of the artists for years, either through previous Maker Faires, or through Burning Man--for which he works part-time by running emergency services--and other events. And that experience with many of the people involved in putting on Maker Faire here breeds the kind of familiarity necessary to break down the communications barriers that might otherwise arise when trying to instruct artists on safety issues.

"It's about relationships...(being able to) walk up to someone and address them by their first name," said Pred, who, incidentally, has been a friend of mine for some time.

Besides his knowledge of the people and of the art projects here, Pred explains that having someone whose job is specifically to seek out safety concerns is crucial to the success of an event like Maker Faire.

"I'm that safety net for both the makers and the organizers," he says. They're "focused on production and their projects, and they can get tunnel vision, and so having somebody (like me), this is a standard position in a lot of organizations, having someone focused on safety, so preventative measures can be taken before something happens."

Part of the job of the safety officer is to work alongside agencies like the fire department in setting up expectations of safety on the part of the artists. Once that position is established and respected, and the community has those expectations, they can become self-enforcing, and the job of Pred, or someone else like him, becomes supportive.

Still, there are real practical considerations.

"We review all the general descriptions of the makers (and their projects), and we highlight those that involve known hazards," Pred explains. "It could be something as simple as a glue gun or soldering iron. Maybe there's a small but known threat to someone who doesn't know how to safely handle one....It starts a dialog, really. And that dialog is just intended to show that we understand their project, and they understand our expectations. The goal is to enable them to do their projects to share their delight and passion for what they do."

One of the things that Pred feels he offers organizers of events like Maker Faire, and the participating artists, is a different approach than what many are used to. That's important when you're talking about artists who are used to working within their own constraints and guidelines and for whom any rigid law-enforcement rules would be anathema to doing their art.

"I think a traditional approach to safety has been very much a 'no, you can't do that' sort of approach. It's very conservative and not in any way permissive. But with a community like this, it's more like, 'yes, you can do that, and let's figure out how to do that safely.'" said Pred. "The primary difference is that authorities generally are more concerned about a code of regulations...that doesn't account for community or the values that a community is looking to share."

As a result, one of Pred's core contributions to everyone involved in putting on Maker Faire is what he terms as "translation."

"I'm the liaison to all the agencies we might deal with, to free the production staff to deal with the production, and I can speak to the agencies' mindset," Pred says. "And surprisingly, that's a very difficult translation for the different parties to make with each other. Agencies tend not to understand the communities, and the communities don't always understand the authorities, because it's different languages."

AUSTIN, Texas--With all the high-tech in evidence at Maker Faire here, it's hard to believe that one of the most amazing things I've seen was purely analog: drawings in dirt on the side of a car's window.

This is Scott Wade's Dirty Art Car.

Scott Wade makes beautiful art by drawing in dirt on the windows of his car, the 'Dirty Art Car.'

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET Networks)

Most people, when they see cars with dirty windows, just use their finger to write "wash me" on the glass.

But Wade is taking that basic idea and turning it high concept. He takes a drawing tool and etches wonderful, detailed drawings into dirt on the windows of his simple Toyota. It's really quite amazing to see.

Most people just write 'wash me' on the dirty windows of cars. Scott Wade turns such windows into a canvas for beautiful art.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET Networks)

That's especially true when I'm surrounded by engineers and people doing things with circuitry, fire, LEDs and model rockets. And then there's this guy quietly making beauty on his car.

I just love it.

Stephen Voltz, one-half of the team known as Eepy Bird, loads its special Mentos delivery system caps onto Diet Coke bottles in preparation for their show at Maker Faire in Austin. Eepy Bird is known for its synchronized fountains from mixing Coke with Mentos.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET Networks)

AUSTIN, TEXAS--Who doesn't like watching the chemical reaction that happens when Mentos come in contact with Diet Coke?

Well, I can't prove that everyone in attendance at Maker Faire here Saturday loves the resulting fountains of soda, but several hundred people surely did.

That much was evident by the giant crowd that gathered for the show put on by Stephen Voltz and Fritz Grobe, perhaps better known as Eepy Bird, who clustered 128 Diet Coke bottles and hundreds of Mentos and put on one heck of an exhibition.

The two have now been doing their show all over the world, and I've seen it before, at the Maker Faire in San Mateo, Calif., last May. But that time, I was far behind the crowd, and couldn't see it that well.

This time, I was right in front and got a terrific view of the proceedings.

I had also been able to go behind their barrier a couple hours before their show to watch them set it up. That means, in part, loading a custom Mento delivery system for each and every Diet Coke bottle. It's painstaking work, but Voltz and Grobe seem to enjoy it. Or at least the fame.

One of the downsides, for me at least, of being up front, was that I got to find out what happens when you put your arm directly into a nest of fire ants. Several dozen stinging bites later, I knew to watch where I put my limbs the next time I'm in Texas.

With the mixture of Mentos to Diet Coke, sticky geysers shoot in the air to the roar of an adoring audience at Maker Faire Austin.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET News.com)

But despite the pain and embarrassment of falling prey to a whole lot of insects, I was very happy to be able to see the show from up front.

These guys are such showmen, and the crowd ate it up, cheering wildly each time a new row of bottles was set off, or made a row do crazy geometric patterns, or created back-and-forth waves.

In all, the show took only a couple minutes, and despite my being up front, I did not get soaked with Diet Coke. Probably all the better for the ants. More sticky soda goodness for them.

AUSTIN, Texas--OK, that was a lot of fun.

I'm here for Maker Faire, and one of the things I'd been most looking forward to after spending two days watching people set up things was seeing the folks from the blog Toolmonger.com rip down the shack they'd built just for that purpose.

At Toolmonger.com's Maker Faire exhibit in Austin, they built a small shack only for the purpose of tearing it down. It's part of the blog's 'breaking s#!$ week.'

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET Networks)

According to Chuck Cage from Toolmonger.com, they built the shack to showcase just how easy it is to, er, deconstruct something using the latest tools.

In this case, the tool is Stanley Tool's forthcoming FuBar III. And if you don't love the name of that tool, there's something wrong with you.

The FuBar III--according to Jimmy Addison, a product research analyst in Stanley's engineering and technology group--is designed for all kinds of things, as it has a built-in sledgehammer, a wedge, a board bender to rip out floor boards, a spanner wrench and a fire hydrant key. It's a beast of a tool, for sure.

Now, Cage and Addison are getting ready to tear the shack down, and the question is how long it will take. One woman estimates 29 seconds. I think it will take a bit more than that.

The Toolmongers.com guys and a representative from Stanley Tool's research and development team begin to rip apart the shack. The question is: How long will it take to tear it down?

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET Networks)

They begin to hack away at it, pounding little holes in the plywood walls, and slowly making progress.

They're swinging their FuBars like baseball bats, and the effect is great: loud banging, instant holes and ripped out beams.

Slowly, but surely--well, okay, quickly, they begin to show the shack who's boss. First one beam gets kicked out, and then another.

Stanley Tools' product research analyst Jimmy Addison goes to work tearing down the shack.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET Networks)

Addison begins hacking away at a pair of corner beams, but they're not coming down. Someone from the audience helpfully suggests that he take advantage of leverage and hit the bottom. Eventually, he catches on and down the beams come.

It's great fun watching this, and though it's happening very quickly, it actually does seem slow because it seems like the shack should just come down right away, given the beating they're giving it.

Addison rips the frame out of one of the walls of the shack.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET Networks)

Now, two walls are gone, and they're working on the last two. Cage starts repeatedly kicking one, hoping he can knock it down with his foot. After a few futile blows, it does indeed fall.

Toolmonger.com's Chuck Cage attempts to kick down one of the last walls of the shack.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET Networks)

And then, there was just one wall. They whale away at it, and then, with the crowd roaring, the structure falls amidst billowing dirt.

All told, it took them four minutes and five seconds to tear the shack down. And every second was fun to watch.

And for Addison? "It was absolutely a blast."

After four minutes and five seconds, the Toolmongers.com guys and Stanley Tools' Jimmy Addison finished tearing the shack down.

(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET Networks)