Foreshadowing

Nice – this should have been titled: Everthing that will almost certainly happen to your Merlin.

A co-worker named Dave told me that he left his out in the rain one night and it lived to play another day.

The games

I never beat tic-tac-toe, and I never quite caught on to Magic-Square.

Music Maker

I saw this and had to include it.

I remember such a feeling of possibility when I realized that you could “compose music” on this device. I was lucky to memorize the first few chops of row-row-row your boat.rnrnIt was also a major downer when I realized that my masterpiece composition, which I had worked on for an hour, was obliterated after I powered it off.

penlight

Here are our six penlight batteries – not included.

Also note the very useful listing of games and associated numbers on the cover panel – can’t see them too well here.

Let there be light

I started playing a game – but I don’t know which one here.

Alternate power

A view of the jack or the power adapter. You had to buy that separately, as indicated in the directions. Very specific, too:

Nominal: 9v DC @ 75milliamps
Minimum: 7.5v @ 150milliamps
Maximum: 10.5v @ 5milliamps

The power

The power switch – I almost left this out.

Solitary fasteners

Here we have the only two fasteners in the device removed. Also see the enormous battery bay. 6 AA’s. Thats a lot of batteries. Could they have used a 9-volt instead?

It’s almost as if they designed the entire unit around “pen-light batteries”.

More Power

We need to remove the two power leads to the back of the case, where it picks up the juice from the “pen lights”.

The lower half

Here is the lower half where you would make one of your four choices as to where the unit would go next.

Also note the sturdy feet to support the pounding that it would take.

Overlaid

Here is the overlay that goes between the keypad membrane and the plastic stool that we just saw. With French translations.

On mine, it said “comp turn” instead of “Merlin” as does here.

Voice from above

Here we have a solitary speaker. Note also that there are no screws holding it in. Minimalist engineers.

Out comes the insides

Taking out the mainboard and red plastic backrest.

Again – no fasteners here.

Sans

This is the entirety of the unit sans case.

Touchy

With the touchpad still attached, we have a view of the board and the red lens/base, clamshell style.

No board for you

Now the mainboard has been removed (by simply pulling the ribbon out – nothing at all locking it in place), and this is how the touchpad is arranged on top of the red lens/base (still haven’t figured out what to call it).

Clipicator

These little tabs are all that holds the touchpad in place and keeps it aligned.

Simple

Simple design, our touchpad laid out for all to see. We get a good look here at the conductive material and the circuitry that makes it go.

Folding at home

This shows how it folds together to make ‘er go. The unmarked plastic with holes folds in between the other two to provide separation when there is no pressure applied.

Assembled

Assembled, this shows how the circuit is closed for each button by the two conductive sides making contact.

Not many parts

13 resistors, 2 capacitors, and a diode make up the lions share of the circuitry. Not to leave out the LEDs and the chip which holds our logic.

TI chip

The Texas Instruments TMS1100 series chip. It funcions as both the ROM and the RAM. You can find the specs on it at an antique chips collectors page. Very common and still available, it seems.

Nothing special

The backside of the mainboard. Certainly no multi-layered circuitboard here.

Laid out

Here we have the complete unit all laid out in all of its simplistic, minimalistic wonder.

Thank-you, dear Merlin.

This has been the electronic equivalent of being an organ donor for education and nostalgic enrichment.