Los programas que utilizamos para el curso son los correspondiente a Software DelSol, empresa líder en desarrollo de software empresarial para Windows:
¿No dispones de Microsoft Windows? Si tu ordenador personal es un Apple MAC con procesador Intel (i3, i5, i7, ...), es compatible con Microsoft Windows, por lo que puedes seguir esta guía para poder disponer de Windows 10 x64 en tu dispositivo Mac OS. Una vez tengas tu Windows 10 funcionando, ya podrás instalar CONTASOL y FACTUSOL (y todo lo que desees).
¿Qué vas a necesitar? Necesitarás descargar unas cosas y adquirir una licencia de Windows 10 x64:
At first, it looked like a ghost.
The reply came:
> because code is memory. > and memory, even broken, wants to be found. > go. commit often. backup twice. > and when the link goes dark... you will know why. She tried to visit again the next week. The page was gone. Just a 404.
But three months later, when her colleague whispered in panic about a lost project, Elara smiled, wrote a single address on a sticky note, and slid it across the table.
No search engine ranked it highly. No social media post ever shared its true purpose. You had to hear about it from someone who had stumbled upon it by accident—someone who had been chasing a broken dependency, a corrupted log, or a deleted script, only to land on that plain white page with a single blinking cursor.
> commit hash? file name? last line you remember? The user typed a fragment: a variable name, a half-remembered function. A second passed—then a hundred lines of code appeared. Not reconstructed. Restored. As if the repository had never been lost.
In the sprawling, humming heart of the digital world, where data streams flowed like rivers of light and servers stood as silent cathedrals, there existed a million forgotten links. Most led nowhere. Some led to ruins.
At first, it looked like a ghost.
The reply came:
> because code is memory. > and memory, even broken, wants to be found. > go. commit often. backup twice. > and when the link goes dark... you will know why. She tried to visit again the next week. The page was gone. Just a 404. yexex github io
But three months later, when her colleague whispered in panic about a lost project, Elara smiled, wrote a single address on a sticky note, and slid it across the table. At first, it looked like a ghost
No search engine ranked it highly. No social media post ever shared its true purpose. You had to hear about it from someone who had stumbled upon it by accident—someone who had been chasing a broken dependency, a corrupted log, or a deleted script, only to land on that plain white page with a single blinking cursor. > go
> commit hash? file name? last line you remember? The user typed a fragment: a variable name, a half-remembered function. A second passed—then a hundred lines of code appeared. Not reconstructed. Restored. As if the repository had never been lost.
In the sprawling, humming heart of the digital world, where data streams flowed like rivers of light and servers stood as silent cathedrals, there existed a million forgotten links. Most led nowhere. Some led to ruins.