Once upon a time, in a land beyond the bitrate, the static sang tales. Tales of sheep with improbable dreams and woolly ambitions.
"Count them like this," they whispered: for every black sheep sidestep leftwards, and for every white sheep a jump to the right, the rhythm of your snooze will be prosperous.
In this archive, we store forgotten wit: "A coder's rubber duck once ate a byte for breakfast—couldn't fetch a cup of coffee ever since." Dive deeper.
So, does the lullaby serenade the stars? Or simply remind us? To be wary of caffeinated electronics and their espresso-fueled escapades at midnight.
Navigate wisely, young dreamer, for curiosity leads to more delightful static. The glow calls you.