Yesterday the IT gnomes here at Apple delivered a new PC to my desk. Since we build a cross-platform application at this division, it’s actually not as heretical as it sounds. I rejoiced, because that meant that I could devote my laptop entirely to schoolwork, meaningless blog updates, downloading pornography, and sending threats of no consequence whatsoever to friends, with a greatly decreased risk of getting caught at it by any coworkers or supervisors. Life is good.

Little did I know how good it was going to get, my friends! As I set up the new computer under my desk, and unpacked the cords and cables, I saw that I had been graced with a powerful new computing accessory. A keyboard.

What’s that you say? The keyboard is nothing to be excited about? Au contraire! I am shocked at how little regard people give to such shining beacons of modern technology. Seriously, folks, the keyboard- at least this keyboard- is the Last Word in input devices. Don’t believe me? I pity da fool. I have photographic evidence! Cardboard boxes don’t lie, my friends!

That’s right. The Ultimate Input Device. This thing has it all. Keys, lights, even a cable to connect it to the computer! This thing rocks. When the system showed up at my desk, I was initially dismayed to find it came with a ball mouse instead of an optical mouse, like all the cool kids are using these days. But when I saw the box for the Ultimate Input Device, I knew why no laser-guided, three-button scrollin’ wonder was in my cubicle. You gotta scrimp here and there if you want to save up for the big guns where it counts.

I now held in my trembling hands the very apex of human-machine interface engineering. I suddenly felt, though, that the box, while possessed of a certain austere beauty, was somehow lacking. Its severe and confident assertion of supremacy, not unlike Apple’s advertising posters or Stalinist architecture, did not fully convey the magnitude of its glory. This, I thought, was intolerable, a slight to the prowess of its designers and manufacturers. The very progress of all mankind was getting short shrift from the thoughtless philistines of some nameless container design committee.

Clearly, something had to be done. If not me, who? If not during my lunch break, when? I resolved to act, to erase this grave injustice and do no less than invigorate a tragically slumbering humanity with concrete evidence of its own resplendent triumphs. I set to work at once.

The first step was obvious. This keyboard is “Xtreme”. Anything superlative is “Xtreme”, denoting that it is a product or substance that can only be truly appreciated and properly used by the youthful, athletic, sharp-witted, and exuberant flower of our species. The kind of item you take along when you paraglide out of your hardbodied girl/boyfriend’s helicopter down to the ten-diamond snowboard run down K2, armed only with your five tongue studs, neon-colored sports beverage, and a whole lotta ‘tude. There’s probably a “tribal” tattoo and a soul patch in there somewhere, too. At any rate, clearly, if this keyboard is “ultimate”, it’s gotta be “Xtreme” as well.

As soon as I made the keyboard Xtreme, I realized that it was only the first step. What else, though, could successfully and dramatically illustrate just how impressive this thing really is? For answers, I turned to proven real-life displays of superiority. Everybody knows that if you attach enough fiberglass to a four-cylinder Asian car, the resulting vehicle is the finest automobile on the road. With that in mind, I made further modifications to the box.

THAT’s more like it. Now just about anybody can tell that this keyboard is gonna rock your world the second it gets plugged in. Only one element is missing: that high-tech look. Technobling. And nothing says high-tech like ultra-bright LEDs. Nothing.

Behold! The Ultimate Input Device now has a box worthy to hold it. Awww yeah. This is goin’ up on the cube wall for sure.