Star is on the phone from L.A. He is calling New York. At midday rates it's costing him almost four bits a minute. I lift the receiver and say hello. From a distance of over three thousand miles, by way of inconceivably complex electronic communications systems which take ordinary human speech and send it bouncing off a satellite some where beyond the ozone, I hear Star, who is on the phone from L.A., begin a simple conversation with a co-worker across the room. It is not absolutely necessary for Star to call me in New York in order to speak to a co-worker in L.A., but by doing just that, his conversation, no matter how common place, resonates with properties of the ages. It could be said that when Star speaks, the cosmos listens. Literally.