Answer:
Be sure to shout for its answers are weak, but there is no language it cannot speak.
It is the electronic version of junk mail or a salty meat in a can.
Searing 'cross the pitch-black skies, I scream in celebration, Yet moments later, my outburst through, I am naught but imagination.
Up on high I wave away but not a word can I say.
What is it which builds things up? Lays mountains low? Dries up lakes, and makes things grow? Cares not a whim about your passing? And is like few other things, because it is everlasting?
Why was the cook arrested?
Difficult
Animal
Easy
Food
Funny
Kids
Logic
What am I?