In Which I Choose The Perfect Time To Catch Up On Freakangels

Webcomics do amaze; variety
Of type, content and talent, it's all there.
But of them one will e'er stand out for me:
Freakangels! I've been tearing out my hair
Just knowing I had gotten so behind
That it would take a day to catch up. So,
Today seeming a perfect day, I find,
To do something my birthday boy would go
Quite crazy for, I went back to the start
And read up to the present! One great dose --
Exhilaration! O, bestill my heart,
Especially where the story's gone! I'm close
To screaming right out loud, though I am still
Down at the day gig. I must mute my thrill.

In Which I Squee For Star Trek Online

A tiny box of squee arrived today,

Star Trek Online, a time sink nonpareil

I'm sure, or will be when I get to play

(Th'initial patch is taking quite a while;

Release day and the fanboys and fangirls

Are signing on in droves to make their start).

Oh, my delight when the first screen unfurls,

You'll surely hear from far away. My heart

Is full. An MMORPG's not

A thing I've ever played; this is the first

I've wanted to. It's Star Trek, though! That's hot!

And even if as games go it's the worst

E'en so shall I play till I hurt my wrist

Unto the point I cannot make a fist.

In Which A Flickr Pool Absolutely Makes My Day

Stag Beetle(Dorcus titanus), originally uploaded by Nishida Shatner.

I deeply miss the grasshoppers who flit
Around the Greenway as I pedal through
Their congeries in summer. Sometimes it
Was my best moment all day. How I rue
Their passing and the odd mantid who hid
Among them. But today I found this pool
With help from Bug Girl - she's the one who did
Call my attention to it. All my cool
Escaped me in one squee to look at these:
So many origami arthopds!
E'en entophobes among you, if you please
Will find one to delight you. Oh, ye gods!
The internet's a true, great treasure chest.
But I love all the insect pr0n the best.

BONUS SONNET: In Which I Answer A Question

O Bootsy, dear, not only do I blog
But I do so as Shakespeare might have done
(Well, if he was reborn now as a dog
Or typing monkey - but it's all in fun!).
And Bootsy yes, I am a funkateer
Though a white girl who calls Wyoming home.
How glad I am you've joined the Twittasphere
To funk it up. Wherever else I roam
I have you and your peers well on the brain,
Thanks to the iPod and to sim'lar tech.
On bike commutes, long car rides, I keep sane
In no small part due to you and your tunes' help.
So thanks for all the music and the smiles
I still enjoy while eating up the miles.

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!

BONUS SONNET: In Which I Howl At The Moon

'Twas forty years ago this very day

Apollo the Eleventh left the pad

Bound for a date with destiny away

Upon another world. Three men all clad

In our space age's finest future garb

Left Earth to walk upon our planet's moon.

Since then we've scarce returned; there lies a barb

That wounds me, yet I've hope we'll be there soon

Again. There's LRO/LCROSS and all.

Meanwhile our own dear Duncan Jones has made

A worthy little film, a clarion call,

One vision of what we might have to trade

To live there and to keep our lifestyle here.

I took it in today. This Moon, I cheer!

In Which A Weird Co-Twit-cidence Has Me Flabbergasted

Baton-twirlers have nothing on this guy,
Josh Womack, with his mad bat-ninja skills!
My gosh, the torque he somehow doth apply
To make that bat spin. It gives me the chills,
And I'm not very much a baseball fan.
But freakish talent grabs me every time,
As freak coincidences also do. Oh man!
Somehow my fav'rite writer, one whom I'm
Quite proud to name as William Gibson, found
Me passing on a tweet about this clip,
And made the choice to pass it all around.
It's called re-tweeting, and it's quite a trip,
When someone I admire deigns to see
And geek on something that's deligthed me.

BONUS SONNET: In Which I Wish Milton Mermikides Many Happy Returns Of The Day

O had I only known back in the day

When I dwelt near the Attitude Gauntlet

Of Berklee College, that amongst the fray

Was such a guy as Milton! I regret

That I missed my chance back then for to meet

This person I admire now. Glad I am

At least that I can in this manner greet

Him on his birthday. But now, can I cram

Encomium enough in what I've left

Within this sonnet? Milton's music brings

Out patterns from what we would miss, bereft

Of his keen ear to notice them - such things

As bloodwork data, evolution, and

The brain's own rhythms -- such is his command.

BONUS SONNET: In Which I Try To Win A Poster For Duncan Jones' MOON Movie

I do declare: the geekiest of things
On my agenda's writing sonnets on
Assorted geekeries. The joy this brings
Is glorious. I haven't yet withdrawn
From any challenge: write on Battlestar
Galactica with Peanuts characters?
On watching telescope repair afar?
On building Magic decks and how this stirs
Imagination more than playing does?
On taking Mom and Dad to see Star Trek
And what a great experience it was?
To these and more I have said what the heck,
Poured out my love in merely fourteen lines.
And in this task all that I love combines.

In Which I Sonnetify A Contest Entry

O Bad Astronomer, I'd love to win
A copy of that book The Saucer Fleet.
It's partly 'cause of you that I have been
A-pondering these things lately. That sweet
Abduction lamp that is your avatar
Means I've got saucers fully on the brain.
Not that I would, no never, go so far
As to place blame; that would be quite insane!
A churlish way to say "Oh, choose me please!"
I was brought up to better style than that
By the same Mom who hooked by degrees
On science fiction, space and such. No brat
Am I. Consider this, my humble plea:
Will you assign a good number to me?

BONUS SONNET: Why I Watches The Watchmen

The casting call, for the big Watchmen flick
Must have been odd. "Must make a good blue nude."
They found one, though, and Crudup did the trick;
He managed to emote, not to say brood,
From 'neath the paint. But Haley stole the show.
To act under that mask was no mean feat.
And Rorsach in the prison - umm, hello...
Hands down the best part of the film, complete.
A faithful adaptation? There's no doubt!
Down to the wardrobe and the set design,
The detail lavished here just knocked me out!
The novel to the life! A moving shrine!
As to the ending - honestly, I thought
The movie has the better, for this plot.

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.