Christmas Carols for Molecular Biologists

Really... try singing these. It's fun.

I'm dreaming of a white mutant
Let it glow
Good king Wieschaus
O Little Town of LTL
We three genes of operon are
Joy to the worm
The first Nobel
All I want for Christmas is my GFP
It's beginning to look a lot like a thesis

I couldn't resist writing a verse for this one... maybe I'll write more in the future:

Spec them all with Ben Garcia,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Don't forget about Cristea,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Prep we now our precious samples,
Fa la la, la la la, la la la.
Spectra come now clean and ample,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Spectra come now clean and ample!
Fa la la la la, la la, la, la.


And, of course, my personal favorite:

                       Have yourself a merry little generals,
                       May your words be true.
                       From now on,
                       The pressure is all on you.

                       Have yourself a merry little generals,
                       Read all that you touch.
                       From now on,
                       The pressure is all too much.

                       Here we are with just two more days,
                       Then those two more days, no more.
                       Committees who are judging us,
                       Gather near to us, to score.

                       Through the years, we all will be together,
                       If the DGS allows.
                       Hang your new degree upon the highest bough.
                       And have yourself, a merry little Generals now.

Icahn Prison Blues

To the tune of Folsom Prison Blues

(I was still working in Icahn when I wrote this).


                       I hear the shuttle comin'
                       It's rolling round the bend
                       And I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when,
                       I'm stuck in Icahn prison, and time keeps draggin' on
                       But that shuttle keeps rollin', on down to Old Nassau...

                       When I was just a baby my mama told me. Son,
                       Always be a good boy, don't ever go to Princeton,
                       But I shot a man in Guyot just to watch him die
                       When I hear that timer beeping, I grab my pipet and cry...

                       I bet there's PIs eatin' on that fancy Nassau street
                       They're probably drinkin' coffee, and reading JCB
                       Well I know I had it coming, I know I can't be freed
                       But my cloning keeps a failin'
                       And that's what tortures me.

                       Well if they freed me from this prison,
                       If that PhD was mine
                       I bet I'd move on a little farther down the line
                       Far from Icahn prison, that's where I want to stay
                       And I'd let that lonesome timer, beep my blues away.