MiniMac in the shadow of Marvin

MEATBOMB.jpg

This morning started as it always does: gritting my iPod-white teeth, I fingered the open trephine hole of my auxiliary port, smelled my fingers to detect any spillage and then — untangling the knots of the buycrime detecting umbilical that slithers out to my desk from Big Boinger’s central hub — inserted the massive Cat-5 into my Thalamus.

But nothing happened. Something should have happened. My brain should have been awash in the matrix of morning deals; the Morning Reverie should have blared into my brain; electro-chemical orgasms should have been induced, again and again, as I had the bodies of the latest product revisions raped into my brain, leaving me as spent and without free will as a man who has just ejaculated his entire limbic system onto the floor. At the very least? The curious sensation of smelling overloaded synapse ozone from within the vacuum of my own skull. But there was nothing. Big Boinger just wasn’t there anymore.

I looked over at my two colleagues. Minister Wang simply rocks back and forth muttering regulations, folded in on himself like some sort of spindly, fetal praying mantis. Minister Touchpreaux’s reaction is more interesting: what once was a golem of listless oatmeal has now transformed into a manic marionette of enthusiasm, playing with strange blob-like creatures gelatinously inhabiting his iPhone and whistling to himself, only pausing to scatter off a burst of prose so discordantly uncouched from the Fifth Edition of Infomercia’s NuPR Lexicon and plosively mouth “Yes. Yes!” to himself.

Of course, there is a procedure to follow in situations like these. Hardware fails… it’s supposed to. I took out the emergency PR pack from under my desk, its cover stenciled with the Checkbook font, and broke the seal; from within, I removed the Portable Big Boing Mainframe, and turned it on.

>HELLO. NOW SPELL ANYTHING.

“EMERGENCY PROTOCOL,” I queried.

> INCORRECT. NOW SPELL PROBLEM.

“Marvin.”

>CORRECT. NOW SPELL MAKE.

“Make.”

>CORRECT. NOW SPELL CRAPGADGET.

I thrilled. This is a forbidden word. “Crapgadget,” I typed.

>CORRECT. NOW SPELL MEATBOMB.

My indoctrination continues. Big Boinger isn’t here anymore. Marvin has stepped right into the machine. I’m plugging him in now.

Virtual Big Boinger Field Kit [Official Site via Red Ferret]

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20 Responses to MiniMac in the shadow of Marvin

  1. Not a Doktor says:

    Hooray!

  2. pikematerson says:

    Recallibrate your gadget-tubes! Meatflapping trinket-goons can stick it up their I/O ports if they don’t like it!

  3. jahknow says:

    #10, J.R. “Bob” Dobbs is the only short-duration personal saviour (“ShorDurPerSav”) for me.

  4. nairobired says:

    this is lovely! all these nerds getting aflustered because they arent being told what to buy in a manner in which they are accustomed to. delightful!

  5. Gainclone says:

    Hey.

    Pick up that can.

    Pick up that can, and put it in the trash can.

  6. Not a Doktor says:

    Guys this has been wonderful*. I was wondering if you can provide a higher resolution image of the unicorn so I can make a stencil (that will be bitchin’ on anything)

    *going in theme with the BB mission

  7. RedShirt77 says:

    I drink your Milkshake!

    Info-merica is giving me a headache!

  8. Bob Doles Communist Doppelganger says:

    I’m enjoying this, if only because it’s driving away the humorless, pretentious, self-absorbed entitlement-complex poster children clinging to the crevices of the site.

    I propose that anyone who’s ever become enraged at a tongue-in-cheek slight change of content on a free website be the first ones up against the wall when the revolution comes. Not for shooting, but so we can point and laugh at their hats, which are likely to be unfashionable and unwieldy.

  9. Rob Beschizza says:

    We’ll throw up the art in a couple of days.

  10. kpkpkp says:

    Why more of this Infomercia flavoring dumped on top of Gadget Wholesomeness?

    Infomercia = BULLSHIT!

  11. ehamiter says:

    I want to ejaculate my fist into that fucking unicorn’s face. This shit is awful.

  12. Anonymous says:

    I agree with the first two posts above. I used to enjoy BBG, but this Infomercia crap makes in unreadable. If I want bad pseudo-political sci-fi, I’ll get it elsewhere.

  13. clueless in brooklyn says:

    Okay, it’s kind of funny watching boing boing nerds get all protesty over this little conceptual project you are doing for a week.

    By the way, my cock is completely rock hard right now.

  14. clueless in brooklyn says:

    Also, kudos to whoever made the gayest unicorn-techno logo one could muster.

    It’s wrong & absurd on so many levels that it must be appreciated.

  15. Pete says:

    Thanks for that cock update, Clueless.

  16. Anonymous says:

    These bizarre posts are now only annoying! Not funny, not mildly amusing – just annoying. Stop it!

  17. nabru says:

    I’ll be back in a week when this is over.

  18. clueless in brooklyn says:

    “electro-chemical orgasms should have been induced, again and again, as I had the bodies of the latest product revisions raped into my brain, leaving me as spent and without free will as a man who has just ejaculated his entire limbic system onto the floor.”

    the door is open on this one.

    anything goes.

  19. Anonymous says:

    I didn’t know BBG readers were so joyless. Infomercia is a splash of brightly-coloured hyper-consumerist fun which is only going for a very short period of time. And yet, so many people bitch and moan. If you don’t like it, go away. It’s not like anyone’s papering your bedroom walls with technicolor unicorns.

    It’s only three days. Be quiet.

  20. Gainclone says:

    Yeah, I don’t get what the big deal is! It’s different! It’s exciting! DOES SLASHDOT DO THIS SHIT!? No they do not! So go read slashdot, if you don’t care.

    I, for one, welcome our… aw fuck it.

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