When I was a kid I could turn on the television late at night around maybe one or two in the morning and see static on the screen. This was well before the broadcasting of 24 hour news and sensationalized stories to vie for the insomniac's attention. I always thought it was odd that it was called static while the white and gray lines danced with such effervescence. This rapid monochromatic dance was eloquently accompanied by the wondrous sound of "white noise". The sound of nothing, but with this odd feeling that there was something there, hidden, waiting to be deciphered.
Interesting correlation to life and purpose.
Until next time...
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