In Which Occurs A Very Muppet Scotchpocalypse

"Macallan's, anyone?" Miss Piggy said,
And batted those eyelashes. "Damn, you know,
That frog picked him a woman!" Oscar's head
Was already a-spin. It's ever so,
However, that a muppet, offered scotch
Must drink it, ev'ry time it's offered. Soon
The bottle drained, this pair was much debauched,
And Oscar took advantage of her swoon.
Then Scooter showed up with Glenlivet and
A camera phone. "Deplorable" does not
Describe the scenes he captured in that can,
Depravity and garbage, whiskey shots
From porcine nostrils, stuffing -- and then they
Began to sing, to sin against Broadway.

- for Paul Elard Cooley

SONNET DARE: In Which I Try To Make Sentences Out Of Hashflags And Fail

The FIFA World Cup has come 'round again,
A season when e'en I do care somewhat
For sports. It's mostly just a nerd thing. When
The Twitter lords decided they would strut
Their geekery, creating #flashtags, who,
Then, was surprised? Just type a country's name
(Abbreviated, like on scoreboards): you
Then generate that country's flag. Each game
We tweet about will have some color. More:
An apopheniac and language dork
Like me will try to render semaphore
Of them, or to make sentences that work
With those abbreviations. Yet I fail.
Fine: shut me down. Put me in Twitter jail.

SONNET DARE: In Which I Attempt To Make Sense Of The Senseless

Has madness, static and dynamic, been
So well combined as here, where Mr. Chess
Did thespianate as was lately seen
By Laroquod? I find I can but guess.
"Rail, genius," quoth he, upon his sign,
"Twelve beauty natural blonde girls' members stars --
An opportunity with them is thine!"
(I paraphrase a bit). Is he from Mars?
Or hath he the mere form of one who's come
From there, this actor dancer? It may be
That only Paul can know, who witnessed some
Of this performance, to whate'er degree
A subway ride afforded. One thing's sure:
'Twas fascinating for him to endure.

Sonnet Dare: In Which I Have A David Lynch Moment

At old beaudacious Bard, we used to say
Of those times when what happened got too weird,
One explanation only could hold sway;
One possibility 'mongst those that reared
Their heads could be the truth: that David Lynch
Was hiding in the room, mast'ring the scene.
The man who made Eraserhead to pinch
Our twenty-year-old brains, crafted the keen
Hilarity of that Blue Velvet flick,
And made of Dune a less coherent tale
(Though visually awesome) -- no mean trick --
Than Herbert did -- that David, without fail,
Had taken over the directorship
Of these, our lives, so suddenly a trip.

SONNET DARE: In Which I Consider The Volatility Of Online Relationships

The written word is marvelous, unless
It is the only basis folks have got.
For understanding. It's too hard to guess
Intent behind bare words when they have not
A face to watch, a voice to listen to.
Relationships online have this pitfall
Built in before one thought, even, comes through
For misinterpretation. I won't call
This flaw a fatal one but it's severe.
Imagination fills in gaps that would
Best be left empty, and the common fear
That one is being dissed -- which never should
Come into play, still does -- and what we find
May shatter 'stead of bring us peace of mind.

Bonus Sonnet Dare: An Encomium To A Show I Have Not, In Fact, Seen

A TV-free house is mine, but for one
Exception: I'm a total Netflix fan.
Yes, Hulu means I don't miss all the fun,
But laptop-watching's not part of my plan.
This means I've not seen Fringe, though I'll amend
That in September when it comes out in
A DVD set. This sounds like a blend
Of X-Files and Repairman Jack: pure win!
And I see Leonard Nimoy's in the cast.
So Barton Morse, who dared me here to write,
An homage to a show I'm too harassed
To watch until it's mailed to me one night
Next month, I must say thank you; I have made
A priority of it now -- nay, crusade!

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!