A whole business,
on a box you own.

What is what — CampOS, Boone, and the box

CampOS is the house — the operating system and the whole suite: office, files, books, CRM, creative studio. Boone lives in it — the AI guide who reads your documents, teaches the tools, and talks. He is not sold separately; he comes with the house, and his brain sizes itself to whatever hardware you run. The box is the house pre-built on proven ground — our tested hardware with everything installed, warrantied, and supported.

Whatever you run him on, he sets himself up

Jailbreak the SaaS prison

Every subscription is a cell with the door open — until the bill comes.

Tally what you rent today. Then own it once, on a box in your shop, and serve no one’s sentence but your own.

Pick a few — we’ll tally the year.

Deliberately conservative floor prices — your real bill is probably higher. The Software Edition is $139.99 once; updates optional at $34.99/yr, and the box stays fully usable without them.

The part nobody else can do

Boone teaches the tools, too.

Status you can read from across the room

The camp is how the box talks.

the fire

the cairn

the dock

the woodpile

the lanterns

back out ↑

Mouse over anything glowing — the games open on a click.

No dashboards, no notification badges — the scene IS the status. A blue jay named Jack turns up when something new needs a decision; weather follows your real sky if you tell it your zip. On the box this drops down over your desktop exactly like it just did here.

Fishing, splitting and the cairn are playable right here, in their day-off form — on the box they’re wired to the machine underneath. The firepit, the lanterns, and a fair bit more live at camp too. We’re not going to spoil it.

You own the whole box — not just a login

He talks. And the box keeps its promises.

Voice, all on-box: push-to-talk or say “Hey Boone” — your words never leave the building, a light shows whenever the mic is live, one tap mutes it, and it’s off unless you turn it on. His voice is ours outright — built from openly licensed parts, no cloned humans, hear it yourself.

And the boring promises are tested like the exciting ones: backups aren’t real until you’ve restored one — we restore-test ours. A tampered update gets refused before it touches the disk; a broken one rolls itself back. All measured, all dated, on the receipts page.

A real Linux computer underneath. No lock-in.

New — and measured before we said a word

Boone reads the paper, too.

Photograph an invoice, a motor nameplate, a crumpled receipt — Boone transcribes it with two readers that fail differently: a vision model and a plain deterministic OCR engine. Where they agree, you get the value. Where they don’t — and on every dollar amount and every rating — it comes to you flagged, with the photo crop right beside the number. You confirm it; then it’s a fact Boone can cite.

Across our 41-image test set — glare-shot nameplates, 1936 typewriter invoices, dashboard phone photos, and 30 documents built specifically to fool it — zero wrong high-risk numbers were ever committed silently. Every real misread surfaced as a flag. A model’s own confidence never gets a vote: we measured it rating every field “high” while some were wrong, so the flags come from evidence, not self-esteem.

The reading engine is box-proven today; the photograph-to-confirm flow ships with CampOS. And what it can’t catch, we keep on a written ledger instead of pretending. Think you’d catch the misread yourself? Try. →

The whole business, end to end

Run it, make it, take it to market.