Many year’s ago, when I was writing and recording Slacker Astronomy, I had a random “let’s parody old Christmas Tales” kind of day and created the following tale of epic misadventures in science and Santa hunting.
This is part 1 of 3. I’ll be uploading the other two parts “T’was the System Admin’s Night Before Christmas” and “T’was the Prof’s Week After Christmas” at the times required by their titles. Please enjoy. And also, I´d like to wish all of you a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Joyful Solstice, Best Kwanza Wishes, and may the Pasta be with you.
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T’was the day before Christmas, and all through the domeNot a GUI was stirring, not even gnome.
The CCDs were stored in their cases with care,In hopes that a supernova soon would be there;
The astronomers nestled all snug in their beds,While visions of dark matter danced in their heads;
And I, in my headphones, and my Mac in its placeHad just settled into a podcast writing pace,
When out on the crest there arose such a clatterI sprang to the desk to see what was the matter.
Away to the webcam (I tripped in my dash)I tore open the Windows and threw up the Flash
The Sun on the breast of the new-fallen snowGave the luster of summer to objects below
When, what to my wandering cam should appear,But a theorist prof, and eight grads dressed like reindeer
With fear for the telescopes, so precious their timeI knew in a moment it must be Dr. Belstein
More rapid than eagles his equations they came,And he twittered, and shouted, to grad students by name;
Now, Daniel! Now, Donald! Now Ronald and RandyOn, Christin! on Kirsten on Rachel and Mandy
To the white board you go, No Greek letter too small!Now solve away, solve away, solve away all!
As the comets that before the Sun’s gravity fly,When they meet with an obstacle light up the sky,
So up to the markers the students they flewWith many reference books, and Dr. Belstein too
And then, in a twinkling, I saw in the mathEquations mapping the vectors of Santa’s path
As I drew near my screen, and was scrolling aroundIn the entry Dr. Belstein came with a bound
He was dressed all in Tweed from his head to his cuffsAnd his clothes were all chalky from lecturing on space stuff
A bundle of finders he had clutched in his glovesAnd he looked a bit crazed, like a boy first in love
His eyes how they twinkled! His intelligence, how vast!His pencils were nubs, his calculations so fast!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,And the fuzz on his head was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pencil he held tight in his teeth,And the shavings from sharpening it formed a small wreath
He had a broad face, a little pot belly,That shook when he shouted like a bowlful of jelly
He was tenured and sage, a right proper old profI trembled when I saw him; my nerves went all soft
A blink of his eye and a twist of his headSoon gave me to know I had all things to dread;
He spoke not a word but went straight to the scopeAnd pressed all the buttons, then gave one final poke
And laying his fingers on the telescope’s pierHe awaited images on the screen to appear
His screen went all white, and his team gave a whistleThe sunlight brought instrument death like a missile!
But I heard him exclaim, ere he fled out of sight,Next Christmas, I´ll observe Santa only at night!
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