A tour with an upright mammal
by digby
“Silicon Valley” fans will especially enjoy this Clickhole “tour” of Google headquarters, but it’s fun for the whole family. An excerpt:
The next stop on our journey is Google’s research and development center. Upright Mammal and I fight our way through a swarm of vengeful ghosts and enter an enormous, state-of-the-art laboratory.
“Here at Google, we’re always working on some sort of new and beautiful robotic sin in order to drown the world in a sea of convenience,” my guide explains to me. “Google proudly employs a dedicated militia of scientists to build our vicious gizmos.”
He leads me to an immense indoor driving course where several cars are parked. Scientists run back and forth, fiddling with various mechanical components.
“Behold!” exclaims Upright Mammal, “Google’s driverless car! The hideous miracle that will make driving old cars illegal!”
I turn my attention to the indoor racetrack where the driverless cars are parked. A scientist climbs into the backseat of one of the driverless cars.
“Okay, Google Car,” says the scientist, “take me around the track.”
With elegant, deliberate precision, the Google Car starts its own motor and makes a slow, controlled trip around the quarter-mile track. It comes to a perfect, gradual stop at the finish line. The door to the car opens and the scientist emerges. He now has the head of a falcon. He emits frightened birdlike shrieks from his new beak as he grasps in horror at his monstrous new head. Several paramedics rush onto the racetrack, grab the falcon-headed scientist, and usher him into the backseat of a driverless ambulance.
“Okay, Google Ambulance,” says one of the paramedics, “take us to the hospital!”
The driverless ambulance rockets vertically into the sky and explodes like a firework thousands of feet above the ground.
“The driverless cars are not working right now,” explains Upright Mammal. “Let’s look at a different miracle instead.”
He leads me to another part of the laboratory where, he says, the company’s top researchers work on the highest-priority sins. It dawns on me that I haven’t felt this level of enthusiasm since finally getting my femur removed.