ScienceCache

Vol. 192
2004 Year in Review
Dec. 23, 2004

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the complex,
Not a creature was stirring, except herpes simplex;
The diplomas were hung with kudos, with care,
In hopes that a flu vaccine soon would be there.

The researchers were nestled all snug in their lab,
With photos of fusion from ultra-fast grab,
With Mouse that is Mini, Mouse that is Mite-E,
Protected from fears grounded yet flighty.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
About all the dangers of particulate matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters, afraid of a crash.

The dust on the breast of the new fallen snow,
Gave the luster of beamlets to light caught so slow,
When, what to my custom eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and scientists dear.

With a little old driver, with strep and a tic,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
For sure, I thought, he hath encountered the Higgs,
For St. Nick's waistline was big, big - BIG!

Out on the lam and fresh out of detox,
The Earth he did roam, along with the rock jocks.
With lasers equipped for video from space,
He was no longer St. Nick the straight-laced.

Quite simply, because of the stroke,
His brain was shrinking, his neurons were broke.

" Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling, memantine,"
St. Nick sang - even with a COMPAS, his mind was so lean.
" I just need some fleece muffs," he muttered,
" and throw in some vitamins and herbals," he sputtered.

For clearly St. Nick had an affliction,
That toyed with his memory, dabbled with addiction.
Perhaps he'd been exposed to a toxin or two,
Perhaps the Great Dying had bid him adieu.

Whatever the reason, whatever the cause,
His hormones were zapped, his ears gave pause,
But with no trace of anthrax, thanks to the nurses,
St. Nick simply sang out more and more verses.

" Now! Betza, now! Dancer, now! Roger, and Eby,
" On! Ira, on! Cupid, on! Renie and Scotty;
" Toward that yonder planet, a babe of star sprawl,
" Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As pixels scatter before the algorithm plies,
Or edits of gene code, make little white lies.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys -- and St. Nicholas too.

And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
Sounds of bad nausea - unsightly, uncouth!
I covered my eyes,
I gave holy thanks,
The only thing for St. Nick sadder,
Would be trouble, trouble with his bladder.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
For a man of some girth he enjoyed such great motion,
Perhaps from a brew of gravity-wave potion.

His legs, though paused, soon skittered about,
His blotches were signs of shingles, no doubt.
Though he hopped down the chimney as a way to beat cancer,
Perhaps what he needed was a whole-body enhancer.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! Though minus the cones,
He mistook some hot coals for a plateful of scones;
His mouth it did choke on the acid assault,
So hot, so MAD, though sadness did halt.

While the psychotropic drugs were surely a lure,
His pressure stayed low, the Newton made sure,
As he dawdled and dreamt and looked at the clock,
His pacemaker kicked in with quite a big shock!

So many signals, leaving him crazed,
So many signals - forming a daze.
Equipped with a brain to handle the stats,
To fight off the ills, he relied on insects like gnats.
And then finally, the magic of touch,
Made him recall his mission, so much.

He ventured to say, "I'm such a big dufus,
" I'm healthy of course, minus the lupus.
" My neurons are fine,
" There's work on my spine.
" The tumor is false,
" And the tremor does halt.

" I've got some gifts for really smart teens.
" Maybe a cure for the ills of arginine.
" Some really smart robots that like to move mines,
" Maybe even someday, a way to grow spine.
" With work like this, there ought to be hollers,
" From people so happy with those licensing dollars."

With that he went straight to his work,
And fill'd all the stockings; then turn'd with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.

He sprung to his sleigh, to his team of great merit,
As he called back to us, "Good work with the ferret!"
And I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight --
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.