Polaroid just lobbed a new instant camera into the void, and for the first time in years, it might actually be worth a damn. This isn’t some plastic nostalgia trap—it’s got a real lens system, sonar autofocus, and a flash all crammed into a body that doesn’t look like a Fisher-Price experiment gone wrong.

Whispers from the front lines—actual instant shooters—say it works. Imagine that. A functioning instant camera in 2025. It’s a goddamn miracle.

Details here.

Anker has been killing it in the whole “outdoor power” department lately. And it looks like they are about to drop a pretty impressive battery powered cooler. According to the marketing, it will cool to 32-degrees in just 15 minutes and will keep there for over four days. Not bad.

Details here.

Sigma has always been the wild card of the camera world—never afraid to roll the dice while the others play it safe. I respect that. Their new BF is yet another example of their reckless brilliance.

This thing is a tiny, brutalist slab of aluminum with a full-frame 24MP sensor lurking inside. No nonsense. No dead weight. Just raw imaging power in a body that looks like it was forged in a machine shop at midnight.

The sensor? Fantastic. The body? A work of art. The user interface? Well, Sigma isn’t exactly Leica or Fuji, but at least they’re not Sony. This little beast could be a game-changer for run-and-gun filmmakers.

Oh, and did I mention it’s L-mount?

Details here.

Ah, Christ. Another day, another Leica cash grab—some fever-dream marketing ploy designed not for photographers but for the sort of people who think owning a Leica makes them part of some elusive, well-heeled cult. This time, they’ve cooked up a grip—an absurd little contraption that turns your iPhone into a machine that not only spies on you but also pretends to be a real camera.

I’ll give them this: the Leica FOTOS app is slick. Almost dangerously good. And yeah, maybe this grip makes it a little more enjoyable. But not $329 enjoyable. Maybe $100 enjoyable.

Patience, my friend. Let the suckers take the hit first. When the euphoria wears off, they’ll be dumping these things on the used market for a fraction of the price. That’s when you strike.

Details here.

Squarehood is the kind of outfit that thrives in the shadowy underbelly of the niche market—supplying square hoods and obscure camera accessories to the select few who truly give a damn. It’s not mainstream, nor does it try to be. But if you’re hunting for the perfect hood for your 28mm Ultron, or some arcane gadget to pimp out your point-and-shoot, these maniacs are the ones to call.

Naturally, I threw in my order—expecting the usual sterile efficiency—and FedEx, true to its chaotic nature, promptly lost the damn package. A fine display of corporate entropy. But Squarehood? They didn’t flinch. On Christmas Day, no less, they swooped in like a gang of caffeinated elves, hellbent on righting the wrongs of modern logistics.

This is customer service with guts. These are the people you want in your corner when the chips are down and the lens hoods are lost. I’m sold—hook, line, and sinker—for life.

Details here.

A $1,600 keyboard made almost entirely out of 6061 aluminum—industrial art at its finest. Cool as hell, no doubt, but what a dicey gamble if the thing turns out to be a wrist-destroying torture device. At that price, you’re betting on a masterpiece, not a mistake.

And here’s the kicker: with the cost of aluminum and the sheer amount of machining that went into this beast, I can’t imagine they’ve left much room for profit. It’s like they’re building keyboards for the gods and praying mere mortals will foot the bill. Risky business, indeed.

Details here.

IDS is one of those slick operations that zeros in on the Leica crowd—hungry for prestige and not shy about squeezing every last dime from it. A market ripe for plunder, built on mystique and margins thicker than a Texas steak. But, against all odds, IDS might actually be one of the rare vultures that delivers something worthwhile.

Their latest strap? It’s not just a piece of leather and marketing fluff. It’s a genuinely clever design that conceals an AirTag, slipping a bit of 21st-century paranoia management into old-school aesthetics. A subtle stroke of genius for anyone who’s ever sweated over the whereabouts of their Leica in the chaos of the real world.

Details here.

My doctor, in his infinite wisdom, has decided I need to wear an Apple Watch—something I absolutely detest. Sure, I love my old mechanical watches, the ones that tick away with soul and history, but fine… I’ll play ball. It’s fun to mess with tech every now and then. But here’s the problem: charging. My phone is already a hassle on the road, but throw a watch into the mix? Suddenly, I’m tangled in cables and scrambling for outlets in every godforsaken hotel room. It’s a nightmare.

Enter the Zen Travel Charger. Now, let me be clear—I couldn’t care less about charging speed. I’m not sitting there watching the battery percentage climb. No, the beauty of this thing is simple. I set it up on the hotel nightstand, toss my phone and watch onto it, and let them simmer overnight. When I wake up, everything’s fully juiced and ready to go. No fuss.

The Zen is plenty fast though… but the real magic is in its design. It folds down to this neat little package, slides into my tech pouch like it was born to be there. Best form factor I’ve found so far, and trust me, I’ve been through plenty. If you’re in the market for something that won’t make your life more complicated, I highly recommend this little gadget. It’s about as good as it gets when you’re fighting the war on wires.

Details here.