Critics call it "arthritis speedrun." Users call it "flow state."

Inside the cult-like devotion to a 64-key keyboard, a trackball mutation, and the ergonomic revolution no one asked for.

The device was first conceptualized in 2021 by an exiled industrial designer known only as "Vexel." Tired of switching between a Planck keyboard and a Logitech MX Master 3, Vexel did something unhinged: he cut a $300 keyboard in half with a bandsaw, routed out the PCB, and hot-glued the guts of a trackball into the cavity.

There is a quiet corner of the internet where the click is not a mouse click. It is a thud. A deep, satisfying, ceramic-like thunk . This is the world of Mousepound64—a hybrid input device that refuses to be categorized, a Frankensteinian masterpiece that has turned programmers, video editors, and digital cartographers into devout evangelists.

Mousepound64 is not for everyone. In fact, it is not for almost anyone. It is for the hyper-specialist, the workflow fetishist, the person who looks at a hammer and asks, "Why does the handle have to be straight?"

Mousepound64

Critics call it "arthritis speedrun." Users call it "flow state."

Inside the cult-like devotion to a 64-key keyboard, a trackball mutation, and the ergonomic revolution no one asked for. mousepound64

The device was first conceptualized in 2021 by an exiled industrial designer known only as "Vexel." Tired of switching between a Planck keyboard and a Logitech MX Master 3, Vexel did something unhinged: he cut a $300 keyboard in half with a bandsaw, routed out the PCB, and hot-glued the guts of a trackball into the cavity. Critics call it "arthritis speedrun

There is a quiet corner of the internet where the click is not a mouse click. It is a thud. A deep, satisfying, ceramic-like thunk . This is the world of Mousepound64—a hybrid input device that refuses to be categorized, a Frankensteinian masterpiece that has turned programmers, video editors, and digital cartographers into devout evangelists. It is a thud

Mousepound64 is not for everyone. In fact, it is not for almost anyone. It is for the hyper-specialist, the workflow fetishist, the person who looks at a hammer and asks, "Why does the handle have to be straight?"