Being the riveting true story of how a band of brave pioneers scrabbled a glorious profession out of the dull and clammy medium of Hypertext Markup Language.
As the last of the Cretaceous fauna slipped slowly into the vast memory bank of our happy planet, the Sainted Tim gave to the ever-Widening World its Web. And the valleys and chasms and dry dusty places were amused and brought forth dahlias and rhinestones and other non-transparent things.
Right around last call on the third morning of creation the gnomes from under the mountain in Zurich were joined by virgin boys in T-shirts from the town of Urbana in Middle America. And the boys in T-shirts carried gifts of code, and the code spoke of wondrous things like background colors and tables and words that would not keep still.
That Bill Gates was born is a matter of no real dispute, though there are those who find the documentary evidence unconvincing. That he was born human is a matter of greater controversy. Some would prefer to believe that the founder of Microsoft was actually the product of an alien genetics experiment gone horribly wrong. But these people tend to be longterm users of Internet Explorer, software known to cause transient ischemic episodes in the unprepared.
See the restyled version