Local engineer Paul Sammut invents the most annoying alarm clock ever ::::::::::
The cursed clock requires sleepers to enter an ever-changing PIN code on a punch pad in another room just to activate the snooze button.
“In high school, I had a really good alarm clock, and it was my mom,” said the clock’s inventor, 24-year-old Paul Sammut. “She wouldn’t stop annoying me until I got out of bed. I tried to think of something similar to that.”
After leaving home, Sammut dreamed for years of enjoying a leisurely breakfast before work.
“I could never say no to a warm, cozy bed,” he said.
“My alarm would go off, and I’d hit the snooze button until it was too late.”
He tried moving his alarm to other rooms so he’d be forced out of bed to turn it off.
“If you put your alarm clock too far away, you’re not going to hear it or you’re going to piss off your roommates,” he said.
His invention, called the Ramos clock, sits on a nightstand but only stops ringing after getting a wireless signal from the punch pad placed a room or two away. Worse, an hour before going off, it can be set to go into lockdown mode, preventing any last-minute changes to the wake up time.
“You can’t turn it off, you can’t reset. It’s going to go off,” he said with a wicked smile as he patted a prototype. “It’s friendly. You just need to do what it says.”
Sammut spent the last year fine-tuning — and waking up to — the prototype, which has about 60 components inside its sleek birch veneer. He buys antique parts from sellers in Russia on eBay.
Inside the clock, an electromagnetic coil wrapped around a tube causes a pin to hit the head of a concierge bell, the kind customers use to summon absent help when no one’s behind the desk. The bell rings repeatedly in a random patter until deactivated by the PIN.
“I coded it so it sounds like an annoying customer,” Sammut said.
The punch pad requires you to enter that day’s date.
“It forces me to punch in a different number every day,” Sammut explained. “I’m trying to break myself out of that morning zombie state.”
He showcased the clock on kickstarter.com last week and unexpectedly hit his $75,000 fund-raising goal in just six days.
More than 120 gluttons for punishment have pledged $160 or more on the website to be among the first to get their hands on the weapon of mass disruption. He’s pledged to get them their clocks by September.
He will make them in his spare time from his day job developing underwater robots with Navy funding at Hoboken’s Stevens Institute of Technology.
Born in Queens, Sammut spent his early childhood in his parents’s native Malta before they moved to the upper East Side when he was 11. His dad, a doorman and handyman, always had a workshop. Sammut made his own when he moved to Hoboken as an adult.
The clock, he says, has changed his life.
“I wake up right before it goes off,” he said. “I fear it now.”