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?

In Which I Try Not To Fret Over The Constellation Program's Fate

I'm trying hard today not to lose heart,
As rumors fly: a big dream's for the axe
Within the fed'ral budget. Many smart
And plugged-in people say, though, to relax.
The Constellation program's under threat
But it's an empty one, for Congress won't
Choke off that NASA money, not just yet,
That goes into so many districts. Don't
Believe that I'll be sanguine, knowing same,
Although venality's a sure, sure thing
On which to bet. I just think that it's lame
Just as we've found there's water there, we swing
Back to debating what the moon is worth.
Do babies e'er debate the cons of birth?