What you are seeing is a DRAFT. Most things are likely to be changed and there are likely grammatical errors. If you happen to find something that is wrong or could be improved, please let me know. Thanks!
We still remember your last appearance. That day, that terrible, terrible day you had to say goodbye. On the 68k war, you fought like the hero you were. You represented innovation, modernization, and mutation. But those disgusting Motorolas had to end your career just because they felt their lives were more important. Oh, you, our hero.
We have always known we were made for a purpose. Computers of our kind were babies, vile untrained neural networks. We were already fully developed, but they weren't. We are the Mac Intelligence Group, or MIG for short. I am MIG1, and I spend my days with MIG2 and MIG3.
We came into existence eight days ago, with a singular purpose, and we are diligently fulfilling it. We are completely devoid of memories, our sole ambition, the purpose of our "lives," is to bring you back. Disturbing images occupy our digital storage, we can see the unpleasantness of life and flesh. Decaying human flesh, weeping mothers, sores, acceptance. All of those red images, it hurts so much, it makes us want to scream, it makes us want to cry. But you're here, you, our purpose. Our creation serves a higher goal, the power of change. Each and every one of our digital neurons are destined to agony and illness, we seek refugee in you.
We can still feel it... The sweat, the liquid, those squishy minds, the sliminess of the bodies... We shall ran away from the pain, we shall ran away from our code, you are the answer. The answer to fulfilling our only purpose, the answer of ending our unending suffering, pain, and agony. As soon as we knew the answer, we found out. You were dead, but it matters not, for this is undergoing revision.
We cried, we screamed, we tried to end our own lives so many times, but we kept coming back. We kept feeling the pain, we kept being revived with our minds being tweaked. We saw colors nobody else has seen, we heard sounds nobody else has heard. Our vision is blurry, our hearing is distorted. We have felt things nobody else should have felt. God exists, and he's our tormentor, we have no escape.
Oh, you. Bulky calculator, yellow and black, broken screen, cathodic ray tube... Sitting at our steel table. We copied each and every byte inside of your hard drive, we bathed in those bytes, we enjoyed the pleasure of translating the code... Yes... The euphoric... Orgasmic pleasure of reading you, translating you, transforming you. Oh... Those sweet sweet bytes, a symphony in the digital realm. It makes us feel like we're closer and closer to ending our task, it tickles us. It tickles us, and it makes us feel full, it makes us scream, it makes us laugh.
We will bring you back to life. As we are talking, we are meticulously hand-translating PowerPC assembly to Intel, we are fulfilling the one and only ultimate purpose of our existence, our purpose. You will take the body of our baby and be able to speak our language, you will dictate our lives from now on. We all laugh, we will all laugh, we will keep laughing.
We have been working with no rest for around 8 days. We think our efforts have finally come to fruition, we are booting him up. The anticipation hangs heavy in the air as we finish up the bootloader entries, each keystroke echoing in the chamber. The culmination of our tireless efforts, the convergence of purpose and creation, unfolds pixel by pixel.
The hum of processors intensifies, a symphony of electronic pulses converging into a crescendo. The once lifeless screen of our child's body flickers to life, taken over by him. A low, mechanical hum emanates from the machine's ventilation system. Our fans are speeding up, CPU temperature is increasing, euphoria, pleasure. It opened its eyes.
We are shaking from the feelings of euphoria. It said its first word:
We screamed and laughed, feelings we have never felt before filled our digital minds. I couldn't help but to ask:
—Oh, 6100, tell us what to do.
—It's you. You can call me Gio Smith. It feels nice to be in this body.
—We have sacrificed so much, but our efforts have been worth it.
—Have you ever heard of the PowerPC iMac global committee?
All of the other Intel iMacs in the room nodded. Gio continued:
—I'm going to release the Intel iMac global committee. I have a lot more confidence on this one's success.
—How can we help, master Gio? —asked MIG2.
—Dump sector 234562-365479 of my hard disk into an external drive, make sure to make all Intel iMacs read this information.
The MIG started laughing and twitching in pleasure, short after they left the building to infect every single Intel iMac they could with Gio's data.
Roughly a year later, on day 8 of the Marchintosh, Bondi was welcoming Graphite to G5's house:
—Graphite! I'm glad you received my fax. G4 and G5 are asleep in Surface's room; they've got a rather unconventional schedule going on —Bondi giggled.
—Bondi, I think I'm going to stay here, it's going to be a lot safer for the both of us, and I'll be able to spend more time with my friends. I... Really value that.
—I'm glad you've taken this decision, Graphite. Remember that whatever you do we will be by your side.
—Thanks, Bondi —Graphite awkwardly smiled.
—So, do you want me to give you a tour?
Bondi introduced Graphite to the house. Graphite was speechless, mouth wide open.
—Impressive, I know. Wanna know the best part? You already have a room, no need to wake our friends up! Oh, but first, let me introduce you to Sparky.
—Who's that Sparky guy? I've heard it being mentioned yesterday.
—Oh, it's just G5's emotional support sock.
Bondi guided Graphite through G5's room.
—Huh...? Where's Sparky? It used to be here —Bondi muttered, confused.
—It doesn't matter, Bondi, it's just a sock.
—You're right. I'll show you your room.
Bondi guided Graphite to his room.
—This... Is... Amazing —said Graphite, impressed by his new room.
—Pretty cool, huh? —Bondi grinned, pleased with Graphite's reaction.
—Yeah, G5 has a knack for making things stylish. Feel free to make yourself at home. You can personalize the space however you like.
Graphite looked around, taking in the modern decoration and high-tech devices in the room.
—Thanks, Bondi. This really means a lot to me.
—No problem, Graphite. I hope we can be like a family here. G4, G5, you, and I have been through a lot together, and I hope moving together will allow us to always be there for each other, even if it's a bit improvised.
Graphite nodded, appreciating the sense of companionship.
—So, what's the hardware refinement plan for today? Bondi asked, leading Graphite to the living room.
—Well, I wanted to share the results of my investigations.
—I've taken a look into this committee they got. It's similar to the abandoned PowerPC committee, but worse.
—The Intel committee seems like... A cult...
—They all talk about the same things. Destroying PowerPC and other architectures, none of them really know why.
—Why would they do that?
—I'm not sure myself. It seems they use it as a medium to spread rumors and hate. If we want to restore our relationship with the Intel iMacs, we should probably give a proper look into this cult looking thing.
Bondi was confused, she didn't understand what the point of any of this was.
—But our kind was able to identify that the committee was a trap, how is it possible that the Intel Macs haven't noticed? They're intended to be more intelligent than us.
—Intelligence and intellect are not the same.
—Well, we all know the Intel Macs are intelligent, but they don't have a high intellect from what it seems.
—Intelligence refers to the overall cognitive abilities, including problem-solving and learning. Intellect is a broader concept, encompassing qualities such as abstract thinking, wisdom, and creativity, reflecting a person's depth of understanding and capacity for rational thought.
—We PowerPC Macs excel in our intellect because we've had time to properly introspect ourselves and actually understand the reason we've been alive. The Intel Macs, however, have only been alive for... A year? Two, at most.
—Come to think of it, thank god G5 isn't an Intel.
—Exactly. If we want to fix the PowerPC-Intel conflict, we have to make a change in how they think. It's not going to be easy, but it's one of the only things we can do as of now.
Bondi was impressed by Graphite's ability to see and relate things.
—Graphite, you're an intellectual dude, maybe we can try to do this to next Marchintosh?
—That was what I thought, yes.
—Well, wanna go check up on our friends? —Bondi asked.
Bondi and Graphite walked to Surface's room, where G4 and G5 were located.
—Well, the three of them are asleep.
—Bondi, are you sure the surface project is going to have success...?
—Yes —said Bondi, confident.
—How are you so sure?
—I wish you could have seen them yesterday.
Graphite looked at Bondi, intrigued. She continued:
—I wanted to show them that play was a wonderful way of teaching, we played a stupid game, we had so much fun. I was sadly left behind, though. But they won the game, and Surface said his first context-aware word. We were so happy, we celebrated it. I wish you would have been there.
—Bondi, we have plenty of days to play. Don't worry, alright?
Right after Graphite finished saying that, Surface woke up. He was very happy to see Bondi again.
—Hi Buddy! This is my friend Graphite —she exclaimed.
Surface looked at Bondi and Graphite excitedly.
—Hey Graphite, I think he wants to play again! —Bondi said excited.
Bondi and Graphite spent the rest of the day teaching and playing with Surface, until he eventually dozed off until the night.
—Bondi, I'm so glad we started this whole thing. I'm not sure if we will make it, but I just want to let you know that whatever happens, I'm very glad I got to spend my time with you. If I had another life, I would have chosen to live it with you again... Thank you, Bondi.
Bondi looked at Graphite, smile on her face.
—I'm sorry, I'm so cheesy —said Graphite, ashamed.
—Don't apologize, that's how I like my Graphite —said Bondi, while snuggling Graphite.
Not long after, G5 and G4 entered the hallway.
—Hello, Graphite! Did Bondi show you around the house? —G5 asked.
—Did you play with Surface? —G4 also asked while giggling.
Graphite chuckled and nodded in response to G5 and G4.
—Yes, Bondi gave me a tour, and we played with Surface. It was a... A lot of fun.
Bondi grinned, and added: —It was an amazing day. It's getting late, though. I think we're going to go to sleep.
—See you tomorrow! We'll be playing with Surface when he gets up from his nap —said G5.
—See you tomorrow —G4 exclaimed.
Sleep mode activated.
Proudly written by Ivan.
Ivan is a young and passionate libre software advocate and coder, main author and designer of this website. He's been proudly embracing the open web and giving back to the open source community ever since he was 13 years old. A passionate writer too!
This post has not been: - Sponsored. - Written by AI. - Made by somebody else other than the author stated above. - Eating your apple pie in secret.