In Which We Clear The Way For Siglericus XXX

Siglericus at last may reign supreme,
For Benedict hath left them in a lurch,
Unfortunate to some this might well seem,
But we all know it's best for any church
To have a shepherd for its varied flock
Whose blessings moist are freely given, but
Are never forced. And hey, is April first
So far from now? I feel it in my gut,
The stars are right. So happy we could burst,
Siglerians, rejoice! The XXX
Is just the first of many welcome signs.
Let Krakens rise, let loose McButter! Vex
The nonbelievers! Substitute for wine
The sacrament of gold Tuaca. Drink!
The world is not so flocked as we might think!

BONUS SONNET: In Which I Shamelessly Shill For My Friends (And Wish A Belated Happy Birthday)

He's full of it, and newly twenty-one,
Brent Weichsel, and he's ready to unleash
Filmmaking fury on us ere he's done.
His birthday yesterday, today's release
Of Sigler's newest book seems poised to stretch
His celebrations further. Have a look:
Brent's entry in Scott's contest ought to fetch
Him much attention. As for this new book,
I'm psyched as hell to get it. Want it NOW!
Meanwhile, wish Brent belated birthday love.
I'm sure he's quite hung over, bleary eyed,
And wond'ring what that yellow thing above
Him thinks it must avenge on him. Don't hide,
Dear Brent; it's just the sun. Now seize the day,
And may more viewings soon be on their way!

In Which The FDO Is Greeted On His Natal Day

360535127_8513b2936a, originally uploaded by double_up.

I hold the world in trust for when our man
Scott Sigler takes his post here at the helm
As our Dark Overlord. He really can
Take over governance of this, his realm,
Whene'er he chooses but he likes to watch
His fey Dark Regent squirm, I sometimes think.
Today's his natal day, so we're a notch
Much closer, I suspect, now, to the brink
Of his dominion. Best to be prepared!
Your chicken scissors you will yield to him
As tribute. Only hot goth chicks are spared.
To be delivered via forklift, limb
By limb (though "forklift" won't be what it's called)
And dumped before him all tangled and sprawled.

Gutenberg Did Not Invent Printing, Either

Today we woke somewhat surprised to find
That Little, Brown invented a new style
Of publishing: the podcast novel. Mind,
We all had thought this happened quite a while
Ago. But Sarah Shrubb insisted they were first,
Which makes us ponder what it is that we
Were hearing at Podiobooks. The worst,
Of half-assed Google searches, sure, would be
Enough to prove this wrong. I'll bet Bi Sheng
Would be just as surprised to learn that Herr
Johannes Gutenberg had baldly wrung
A claim to type invention; ah, but there
I stray into rank silliness. We know
'Twas Morris, Sigler, Jeffrey made it go.

In Which Star-Gazing Becomes A Bit Of A Pun

The Launch Pad party did afford such chance
As ne'er I get: to peer through a great scope,
Joe Haldeman, my guide, there to enhance
My view of Albireo! How I hope
My life is long, such wonders it has brought!
Gord Sellar, Andy Duncan, Sigler too,
Stargazers with me. Oh what lives we've got
Beneath such wonders, there in orange and blue!
That to Wyoming Julie Jones was drawn
Along with all these others stuns me still.
I could have kept them chatting until dawn
But they have greater pow'rs of mind and will
Than I as yet can muster. So a toast:
The Launch Pad, and Mike Brotherton, our host!

SONNET DUET: An Interview With The Future Dark Overlord Himself, Scott Sigler

Sonneteer's note: I had the unique opportunity last night to attend a party associated with the University of Wyoming's writers' education program, the Launch Pad. One of the attendees is Scott Sigler. Over Guiness and on the spot, he cheerfully agreed to compose this with me. As with prior sonnet interviews, we traded lines: I asked impertinent questions and he gave them the answers they deserve. The video above was shot immediately after he finished his half.

O Scott, how is Wyoming treating you?
Quite well; the Cowboy State is a nice place.
I hear Phil Rossi scares you. Is that true?
Not so. I want to punch him in the face.
What has the Launch Pad taught you all this week?
Stardust and suns and some spectroscopy.
And are you finding all that you did seek?
Lessons of math bring certain gravity.
The Crypt intrigues us all. How will it change?
More murder, rape and raw butchery.
What do you hope from it besides some strange?
Some nightmares for you and cash for Daddy.
So when you're Overlord, what will you do?
What else? Let's line up hot goth chicks and screw!

All Good Things Come To Those Who Wait

Today Endeavor finally took off!

A perfect launch that almost made me cry

(But as we know, and yes, you all may scoff

I often seem to have caught in my eye

Particulates at launch time, causing tears).

Today was to be my first meet for drinks

With Sigler, yes, the FDO of fears

Both great and small. But Friday now, methinks

Is when that's to occur. I am content

To wait 'til then. A party's in the works:

Scott Sigler, others too, who will have spent

Some days in Laramie, diligent as clerks

At The Launch Pad, learning space science and

Hobnobbing with Phil Plait and Haldeman.

In Which I Realize I've Probably Overdosed On Scott Sigler A Bit

Today, from Germany, we have the news:
A boy, hit by a pebble from the sky
Was "only grazed," got just a scar or bruise
Upon his hand. Yet somehow, it was spry
Enough, this rock, to make a crater in
The nearby earth of near one foot across!
Supposedly the boy was hit first when
The rock came down. Of course we're at a loss
To say how this sequence could be correct.
A crater, then a graze makes much more sense.
Regardless, my concern is if they've checked
The boy for blue triangles. It's intense,
The thought that Sigler's novels could come true!
I wait with bated breath. How about you?