"Labgrumping" (to the tune of "Tubthumping" by Chumbawamba) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KCkmIyC6v00 I take gels down, and put 'em up again, and I run 'em for another round. I take gels down, and put 'em up again, and I run 'em for another round. Sequencing DNA, sequencing DNA. We wash the plates again, we pour the gels again, we wash the gels again, we flip the combs again, Then we retrack and extract all the gel files, then we analyze and dump all the sample files. No life for me, life for me, life for meeee.... I take gels down, and put 'em up again, and I run 'em for another round. I take gels down, and put 'em up again, and I run 'em for another round. Adapted by: Guy Peyrot E.coli Genome Center Found at the wonderful site: https://jcdverha.home.xs4all.nl/scijokes/4_1.html
A mathematician fell madly in love
With a lady, young, handsome, and charming:
By angles and ratios harmonic he strove
Her curves and proportions all faultless to prove.
As he scrawled hieroglyphics alarming.
He measured with care, from the ends of a base,
The arcs which her features subtended:
Then he framed transcendental equations, to trace
The flowing outlines of her figure and face,
And thought the result very splendid.
He studied (since music has charms for the fair)
The theory of fiddles and whistles,-
Then composed, by acoustic equations, an air,
Which, when ’twas performed, made the lady’s long hair
Stand on end, like a porcupine’s bristles.
To the polka and waltz, an equation;
But when to rotate on his axis he tried,
His centre of gravity swayed to one side,
And he fell, by the earth’s gravitation.
No doubts of the fate of his suit made him pause,
For he proved, to his own satisfaction,
That the fair one returned his affection;-“because,
“As every one knows, by mechanical laws,
“Re-action is equal to action.”
“z, Fortune,-(this last is essential),-
“Let L stand for love”-our philosopher said,-
“Then L is a function of x, y, and z,
“Of the kind which is known as potential.”
“Now integrate L with respect to d t,
“(t Standing for time and persuasion);
“Then, between proper limits, ’tis easy to see,
“The definite integral Marriage must be:-
“(A very concise demonstration).”
Said he-“If the wandering course of the moon
“By Algebra can be predicted,
“The female affections must yield to it soon”-
-But the lady ran off with a dashing dragoon,
And left him amazed and afflicted.
Read more: “Victorian scientists’ poetry: An anthology“
The twine of sine
and cosine, twang of tangents,
tangles of angles and twirls of tris,
the way each curve is wavelength,
like a sound is wavelength, light is
wavelength. A four forty’s tone
is blue, its hertz a wiggle,
wobble, flow from
high to low, a
the shade of skies.
Perhaps by this was Schumann
driven mad; the way the math invades,
pervades, like A four forty in his ear
for years: a cosmic radio of audio
uncaused by any known thing.
Oh, the song was blue,
but blues were
Or always did.
Or thought he always did.
The azimuth, horizon, incidence;
The cadence, coda, recapitulation.
These are all the whirlwind tang of life:
From helices in mitochondria to lacy
fractal leaves to strings vibrating
quarks, and time we see
have the arc
of it, the seconds. Mark.
And now, we twist our code
in loops, recurse in tighter spirals, flow
through chains of consequence — input
output GIGO FILO — at play with toys
that mimic magic, reify and
retro-fy, a Bezier here,
of bosses, twirl
Of blues, a count of lives, all binary.
Signs, sines, sprites, twines, tangents, tunes, time. In rhyme.
By Raph Koster
Being cats, being smart, his cats would
Run away since he’s up to no good.
“I’ll try mice! Ah! They squeak!
Now I won’t have to peek.”
Even mice ran when they understood.
by Frank Hubeny
When you’re trying to sleep,
When there’s something to share,
When you’re folding a sheet,
When a ball
Bounces off of a wall,
When you cook
From a recipe book,
When you know
How much money you owe,
How much gold can you hold in an elephant’s ear?
When it’s noon on the moon, then what time is it here?
If you could count for a year, would you get to infinity,
Or somewhere in that vicinity?
When you choose
How much postage to use,
When you know
What’s the chance it will snow,
When you bet
And you end up in debt,
Oh try as you may,
You just can’t get away
To the Tune of “Thats Entertaimant!”, lyrics by the great Tom Lehrer.
Einstein was the first who stated,
He was the first who dared:
Mass and energy are related,
By E = mc2.
When Isaac Newton wrote The Laws that we all quote,
It’s now extremely apparent that he
Neglected to consider — Relativity.
What focused our attention on the fourth dimension?
We’d been doing so well with just three:
‘Twas Mr. Einstein’s brainchild — Relativity.
Now who would think, and who’d forecast,
That bodies shrink, when they go fast.
It makes old Isaac’s theory
So then if you are near when atom bombs appear,
And you’re reduced to a pile of debris,
You’ll know it’s largely due to — Relativity.
Yes, you can place the blame on — Relativity.
These lyrics were published in Physics Today, July 2005, p. 59.
When moles still had their annual general meetings
and when they still had better eyesight it befell
that they expressed a wish to discover what was above.
So they elected a commission to ascertain what was above.
The commission dispatched a sharp-sighted fleet-footed
mole. He, having left his native mother earth,
caught sight of a tree with a bird on it.
Thus a theory was put forward that up above
birds grew on trees. However,
some moles thought this was
too simple. So they dispatched another
mole to ascertain if birds did grow on trees.
By then it was evening and on the tree
some cats were mewing. Mewing cats,
the second mole announced, grew on the tree.
Thus an alternative theory emerged about cats.
The two conflicting theories bothered an elderly
neurotic member of the commission. And he
climbed up to see for himself.
By then it was night and all was pitch-black.
Both schools are mistaken, the venerable mole declared.
Birds and cats are optical illusions produced
by the refraction of light. In fact, things above
Were the same as below, only the clay was less dense and
the upper roots of the trees were whispering something,
but only a little.
And that was that.
Ever since the moles have remained below ground:
they do not set up commissions
or presuppose the existence of cats.
Or if so only a little.
A poem describing the scientific method and why scientists can disagree on results. From ‘Poems Before & After’, Blood axe Books, 2006.