In Which A William Gibson Character Haunts My Migraine Dreams

Hubertus Bigend, Bond villain and one

With whom I'd hate to tangle, you inspire

Such awe and dread as would cause me to run

The other way on seeing you. Admire

A thing I do and you'd cause me to quake.

Show any notice of me and I'll think

At first of hiding, but I know you'll shake

Loose anyone who had the pow'r to sync

What public data there is on me to

More esoteric sources, and would find

A way to make them use those talents. Who

Has ever told you "no"? You always grind

The edges off that "no" 'til it's a "yes."

It's good that you are fictional, I guess!

In Which Reality Proves Once Again To Be As Weird My Favorite Novelist's Work

Were I with Apple's marketing brain trust,
How would I follow it's great iPad coup?
I'd think guerilla leaks would be a must,
And it looks to me that they think so, too.
Was iPhone's newest iteration dropped
In error in a bar? That seems quite odd.
The furor this created can't be stopped,
And such publicity's a gift from God,
Unless it's manufactured, Blue Ant style.
E'en he who dreamed up Hubertus Bigend,
Our William Gibson, thinks so. It's worthwhile,
I think, to ponder if it's true. Forfend
That one of Apple's minions takes the blame.
Could any human being withstand the shame?