Sonnet Dare: In Which A Friend And I Wolf Whistle At The Geologic Universe

I doff my hat to William Donahue
For pointing out a thing that's truly hawt:
Both Geo Hrab and his fair partner, who
Already easy on the eyes, have got
Classy new looks! The Maestro grew some hair;
Not on the pate (thank Bog), but on his face
(And yes, that makes him Evil Hrab), right where
It should be. And MsInformation's grace
Is stunningly enhanced by cute new specs.
Applause is due them both, I do agree!
Though crashes may result as rubbernecks
At their most fav'rite crosswalk bend to see
Them as they ward off those fools who would press
That button. This could all be quite a mess!

BONUS SONNET: In Which I Sadly Must Decline A Kind Invitation

O Geo, what a dreadful tease you are,
A-sending me announcements such as these.
You know I'd be there were it not so FAR.
Alas, my accolades will need a breeze
Of gale-force just to bring them to your ears.
But know that I shall call out all the same
To hear that мавпа song. Admist the cheers
Imagine mine, too. This do I proclaim:
Someday I'll see you live and make some noise,
And then you'll wonder how you did without
The fangirl squee that tells all of the joys
Of hearing smarter music. Oh, I'll shout!
Till then, dear Geo, go and knock 'em dead.
I'll be there with bells on inside my head.

BONUS SONNET: In Which I Wish A Certain Podcaster A Very Happy Birthday!

A busy man is Geo Hrab; alas

Not even his industr'ousness can save

Him from th'advance of age, the years that pass

Unasked as we pursue all that we crave.

Each drum he beats announces that more time

Has come and gone; each podcast he records

Names out the best of what each week sublime

Has brought to his attention, and the hordes

Of Geologic fans try each Thursday

To crash his server when the call goes out

That new high silliness has made its way

Onto the internet. Let us all shout

Together, in his honor, "Vibraphone!"

And "Happy Birthday" ere the day has flown.

BONUS SONNET: In Which I Realize That Balticon Is A Bit Of A Misnomer

I spent this weekend, nose against the glass
(Entirely in a sad, virt'ual way)
As folks from far and near converged en masse
On Baltimore to pass the time of day
With Charles Stross and others I admire.
O Balticon! I'd love so to be there.
The internet permits me to inquire
As to the doings, who and what and where
The action is. I'm somewhat puzzled, though.
The folks I know keep sending photographs
Of mostly-bacon BLTs. I know
They're taking these in quest of some cheap laughs.
I'm laughing, too, but mostly at my game.
Won't Bacon-Con be a much better name?

I For One Welcome Our New Higgs-Boson Overlords

The Large Hadron Collider's almost fixed!
The last large dipole magnet is installed!
You'll all recall its start-up, somewhat nixed
When pressure testing broke a strut and stalled
The smashing schedule for a bit on this,
The biggest scientific instrument
We've ever built. Now some of you will hiss
And talk again of world's end, discontent
That black-hole blather didn't shut it down
The first time. It's unlikely that will be
What happens when we start this smasher up.
More likely that a soda made of pee
Will beat out Coke and Pepsi. Try a cup!
Higgs-Boson, if extant, though will appear
And mayhap make the world seem much less queer.

BONUS SONNET: A Get-Well Greeting For A Stranger

O Uncle Hrab, I hear you're just a bit

Less well than you have been in days of yore.

Your nephew, George, has told us all that it

Might cheer you up if messages galore

Could come your way from parts all 'round the globe.

For fondness of your George, and Roman's art,

And all the good they've done my frontal lobe,

(That painting's like a Cornell box, so smart!)

Do add me to the teeming masses who

Are hoping that you get well very soon!

You've surely got a lot you want to do

And folks to see of a good afternoon --

Preferable to languishing in bed

And hearing second-hand what folks have said.

In Which George Hrab Leaves Me Almost Speechlessly Chuffed

I had today a pleasure strange and rare:
George Hrab read one of my bits on his show,
Which read he did with brio and with and flair,
And said something which set my face aglow.
His kind of chick, he called me, and likewise
He definitely is my kind of dude.
I feel like I have won some shiny prize!
But pardon me, I know it's rather rude
To crow like this, but please allow this gloat.
A sonneteer earns nothing but the odd
Wee scrap of praise to make her ego float
And float it did, like bubbles in pernod
Or really, in an Alka Selzer Plus
(Yes, I'm still sick, but too pleased now to fuss).

BONUS SONNET: Urine-Sane, Or How We Can't Just Leave That Cow Pee Alone

I have it on the best authority
(George Hrab, that is, though he is really FAR
From being in a small minority
In calling out the notion as bizarre)
That a new drink will sweep us from the East.
A soda pop of cow pee that is meant
To purify and cleanse at very least.
How funny that it's now the start of Lent
As we learn this. Still stranger is the fact
That it's not our first time using cow pee
From India as a prized good. The tract
BRIGHT EARTH by Phillip Ball tells us of old
How mango-leaf-fed cows' pee fetched much gold.

I Also Love The 365 Days Of Astronomy But That's Really Hard To Put In A Line

The Internet has brought us wondrous times,
Email, iTunes, Facebook, all have their place.
While Blogger helps me share with you my rhymes,
As does RhymeZone (it's not always the case
That I am ready with just the right word
To finish off a line). One app above
All others brings me joy. You might have heard:
As entertainment, podcasts have my love.
George Hrab, Sandra Tsing Loh, and NPR,
Wil Wheaton, Marketplace, Rebel FM,
The Naked Scientists and Stardate are
Stand-bys; BSGcast... still more of them
Even the president now has my ear:
His address is podcast, and has no peer.