It appears that I've inherited the Jesus Touch. Something I can't explain tempted me to attempt to boot my iBook one last time before dismantling it to salvage the hard drive; imagine the shock as the familiar Mac 'bonggggg' chime sounded and the Apple screen fired up.
I don't know how or why it somehow now works. All I know is that it does and the joy-filled stream of obscenities I stammered upon its resurrection attest to my near orgasmic pleasure.
Aside from some milk-stuck keys, everything appears to work normally as of right now. I have to admit some degree of paranoia about turning it off again however. I guess I'm going to have to sooner or later though.
At least I'm safe from Windows for a little while longer.
