Timothy Alexander Cook was born suddenly at about 2.30 in the afternoon of Friday 25th October 1974, in Hounslow, Middlesex, England. His mother was present at the birth- as was his father, who was reading an Isaac Asimov novel and making the prophetic decision that his new son should be the first man to set foot on Jupiter. Archived news reports of the time indicate how little media attention this momentous birth was given, presumably due to fear of causing panic in the populace.

Following his dramatic birth Tim, or "Tim", as he became known, proceeded to live suddenly in a house in Kingston upon Thames. This was an innovative and thought provoking move from Hounslow, often not fully explored by historians but worthy of note. Was it this sudden move that was to cause hair loss in later life? Scientists have yet to comment. What is clear is that the house was at the end of a terrace, within walking distance of Richmond Park, and had a tree in the front garden called Eric. Tim attended the Latchmere Infants School, until his rapidly advancing intelligence (and age) led to his introduction to the renowned Latchmere Junior School next door. Little is known of his activities there, except that he once made a model of the Lockheed SR-71A "Blackbird" aircraft out of cardboard that was really, really good. Research and Development personnel from Lockheed were not invited to inspect the model, and the model is not now on permanent public display at the Smithsonian Institute.

Suddenly, Tim was twelve, and made the decision (in consultation with his parents) to move to Petersfield, in Hampshire. He was immediately enrolled in the prestigious Petersfield School (later to become known as The Petersfield School in a bizarre marketing twist), and stunned teachers and classmates alike with his fairly good work and not so bad reports. During this time Tim did not get into a scrap with anyone, never did a bad or naughty thing, and was never threatened with expulsion. Apart from in 1990, when he and some friends who will remain anonymous under an oath of secrecy, produced an unofficial school magazine which took a satirical swipe at the headmistress, the board of governors, sundry other teachers and pupils, and Jon Bon Jovi. The magazine did not survive the very popular first issue, and Tim was punished by being made to edit a sappy official version full of bad poetry, for the remainder of his comprehensive schooling. Tim is not bitter about this, and does not refer to the headmistress concerned as a "mad cow".

Exploding into his A-levels, Tim developed an innovative approach to study, which drastically reduced his need to attend classes. Initially misunderstood by teachers, this approach gave far greater freedom of expression to Tim's natural abilities to sit around, talk rubbish, and have larks. Inexplicably, the short-sighted nature of the educational system at that time failed to recognise this valid contribution to academic advancement, and Tim's A-level results fell just short of very crap. After considering the numerous offers of University placement, Tim elected to take up the one that had actually been made, and left Petersfield to study English at the University of Luton (formerly the Luton College of Higher Education, specialist in Modern Hat Manufacture).

Historians of the future will doubtless see the "Luton years" (1993-1996) as a defining point in Tim's rise to global dominance. Certainly it was here that his unerring drinking abilities were perfected- shares in the Jack Daniel Distillery soared during the first term- and here also that Tim developed his ability to hit all the high notes in the James' song "Laid". His unique dance style, never officially named but based on a foot stomping half jump with potentially lethal consequences, was invented in Luton's nightclubs. What's more, it was in the final year of study that Tim bought his first PC, to help him work on his dissertation.

The dissertation isn't quite finished yet, but Tim expects it will be done any day now.

Following his departure from Luton and triumphant return to Petersfield with a rinky-dink Diploma, Tim spent two years looking for just the right job, selflessly rejecting many to the benefit of Petersfield's unemployed residents. During this time, as the rest of the world grappled with emerging Internet technology, Tim concentrated on attempting to write novels longer than two A4 sides with limited success. Excluded from the Internet due to difficulties in running Internet Explorer on a 640k Dos PC, Tim instead spent more time outside in the sunshine with real people. That was soon to change, however.

In 1998 Tim launched a dazzling career in the Civil Service. For reasons of national security the exact nature of his work can never be disclosed, but his duties are believed to involve a great amount of chair sitting, pen pushing, and drunken nights out in Wetherspoons. A new income called for a new PC, and in January 1999 the Internet was finally invaded. By April of that year, Tim had figured out how to make pretty things in FrontPage Express, and Planet Boinng was born.

The true meaning and purpose of Boinng will perhaps remain a mystery. The motives behind Tim's efforts to dominate the Internet, armed with only a flaky knowledge of html and the ability to write his own life story in the third person, are unknown. There are many words that could be used to describe Tim, and his unquestionable genius. To this chronicler, however, it can all be summed up in the words of Winston Churchill...

"History will be kind to me, for I intend to write it."