"We called it surfing because the web was an ocean; vast and limitless as far as the eye could see from the shore of one’s sandy colored monitor. It was a bit scary, at first. You weren’t quite certain where it would take you. But, you knew just beyond the horizon was probably something you wanted to know about, all you had to do was get in the boat and set sail."
"Now, too many no longer explore. They sit on the shore and wait for bottled messages to float right to their feet. They don’t question where the bottles come from, who wrote the messages, or why they always seem to tell them what they want to hear."
To extend the metaphor:
When we weren't exploring we would return like heroes from our travels with untold treasures and place them in our readers for display.
We would sit by these majestic rivers fishing for the best catch and we still marvelled at the wondrous beasts those rivers held.
But then it was suggested we move upriver, ever further from the roiling ocean, where we sat by mere streams supporting little more than stunted minnows.
The call of the ocean is still strong but we must be brave enough to leave the comforts offered on the banks of these streams and strike out again, sailing into the unknown.