Recently saw this new watch page. Apparently he’s having “hosting problems” with his server being taken down by hackers "somewhere in Switzerland". I copied the page before it was taken down because it looks like the kind of hard hitting, investigative watch journalism we like around here. I thought I’d share it everybody.
We here at the Watch Slob have been planning this, our inaugural issue, for some time. We wanted something you just wouldn’t find on one of the snotty horology sites. To this end we decided to present to you, our readers, a look inside the top secret Omega R&D Lab – specifically the room known as “The Speedmaster Graveyard”. This room is the final resting place of Speedmasters that were designed, and sometimes even built, but for various reasons never saw the light of day. The first two reporters I sent to Bienne simply vanished so we turned to legendary industrial spy S.P. deMaster. What follows are his words, his photos, and his trip, through the Speedy morgue.
I spent over a week hanging around the local bars and restaurants near the Omega facility. Eventually I met a young R&D worker and, through the liberal purchasing of adult beverages, I was able to extract all the information I would need to gain entrance into the innermost parts of the citadel. Disguising myself as an itinerant yodeler I joined a tour group and then hid behind a hot chocolate machine in the break room until after closing. After midnight, I emerged and made my way down empty hallways to the only door into the Research and Development workshop. Security is very modern and high tech – requiring a retina scan, fingerprint reading, and a urinalysis to unlock the 2 ton (metric) door. I was prepared for these devices however (I chuckled as I imagined that by now a nine fingered, one eyed, R & D worker with a new catheter was waking up in an alley behind a bar thinking “I’ll never let him buy me another Daquiri!”) and gained access without issue.
After gassing the night watchman, I soaked in the incredible ambiance of the before making my way to the door at the far end of the room.
Legend has it that a ham and Swiss sandwich is deposited through a slot nightly to feed the caretaker of the archives. If the sandwiches are still there the next day, the oldest member of the R&D team is ceremoniously taken to the door and locked inside. Once there, he must bury the last caretaker, maintain the collection of stillborn designs, and place new models around the room on walnut table tops – designing the individual displays is his only amusement. Knowing he had led this Spartan life for many years I gave him my iPad with “Heidi Does Heidelberg” on it and he scurried of to a corner, allowing me to photograph the one off watches you see here.
Knowing my time, and battery, was limited I quickly photographed as many watches as I could. First I saw the legendary “Peemaster Professional” ..........
Followed by the mythical “Mulchmaster Professional”……….
Then the Holy Grail of lost Speedies – the “Menstrualmaster Professional” ……….
My eyes were sucked in by the stately “Clintonmaster Professional”,
After a break to catch my breath I rushed over to the most unusual Speedy I had ever heard of – the “Madonnamaster”. The optically unique "Bresalite” crystal proved difficult to photograph, so normal in appearance from head on, but viewed from an angle……….
Spotting some bling, I rushed over to find the golden “Pimpmaster Profesiional”……….
Seeing that the crypt keeper was getting restless I started towards the door but had to stop just once more for the “Mortalitymaster Professional”……….
Alas, I had tarried too long and as I rushed from the crypt I heard the keeper coming up behind me. We ran all night until I found myself trapped on a narrow footpath at Reichenbach Falls. He has graciously allowed me to pen this note to you, my publisher, which I leave here on the side of the path – with my iPhone.
And this was our last communication from him – two sets of footprints went further up the muddy path but only the set, made by old Birkenstocks, came down and we assume we have heard the last of Mr. de Master.