A boy once walked on a lovely unspoilt beach next to the sea and picked up a beautiful shell. It was magic, and it was majestic in his eyes; a treasure of the deep washed to shore, unto his feet. He picked it up and admired it intently. Then he held it to his ear and listened to the eternal hum of the ocean, the universe and all of life; hidden by mystical means deep within its core. The sound was an eternal peaceful lullaby; and eternal hush of the deep blue see. It made him calm and tranquil and he could hear the spirit of the ocean forevermore, whenever he picked up and listened to his magical shell. He would hold the ocean, and the rhythm of life, to his bosom for all time to come.   A young lad once received his first transistor radio on his tenth birthday. It was a technological marvel, and a wonder of human skill and aspiration to him. He would view the world from this black static box, listening to stories and country music. Listening to general knowledge shows and the murder, mystery and science-fiction hour late on a Sunday night, in his darkened little room. And the voices from the box became like old familiar friends and family. It made him happy beyond measure, and wealthy as prince in knowledge and culture. Sometimes he would listen to foreign sounds and stations on the short wave channel, or picked up the static from the radio activity of the sun’s rays, sounding like ufo’s and an alien civilization from far across the stars.   Now that boy is much older, and he is writing on the internet. He meets new people every day, and travels the world. Bridging the gap of all cultures and colours, and joining the global village of freedom, peace and prosperity for all. Telling his tales to all men, while listening to the news and input from abroad. E.T did indeed phone home; and at last his call was answered. And still the hum of the universe inspires him, and the lull of the ocean lays him to rest. And all is at peace under the silver stars above, as the static hums on in the ether of cyber space.