From: “George Mayhew”
“One truth in life is the need to laugh at
difficult situations. Humour can make a
difficult task more enjoyable. I think
that this group is uniquely suited to understand the repetitious nature of high
throughput sequencing. So I'm passing
along a piece of humour constructed by one of our lab technicians. Feel free to pass it along to your
technicians or anyone else who might appreciate the inside humour.”--George Mayhew
(with sincere apologies
to the musical group Chumbawumba)
"Labgrumping"
(to the tune of "Tubthumping" by Chumbawamba)
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.
From: "John
F. Reynolds"
“This poem was a favorite of Walter Hempfling,
Microbiology professor at the
University of Rochester, and one of the finest
teachers I ever had. I don't know his
source.”—John F.
Reynolds
Two cells of E. coli were
wandering slowly
Down the gastrointestinal
tract.
An F+ was he, an F- was
she,
And their membranes were
bound to attract.
Now the dainty F- was
born in a sinus
Where her members did
seldom trespass,
But the brawnt F+ was
spawned in some pus,
And produced both acid
and gas.
A kiss he had stolen,
down deep in the colon;
"Don't touch me",
she said, "or I'll scream!
I have no protection, and
an F+ infection
Would spoil my maidenly
dream."
So the poor lonely fella
withdrew his flagella
And worshipped her from
afar;
"At least", he
said, "wait, till I can mutate
And come back an
HFR."
From: “Bill
Kalionis”
“The
Sequencers Lament”
To the tune of "Send
in the Clowns"
So this is it,
A few bases to go,
I've tried and I've tried
but the techniques's so slow.
I've poured my gels,
I've run quite a few.
Full of bubbles, they
leaked and why I never knew.
But where are the clones?
I've got to have clones,
The end is so near.
Is my broth rich?
Does it look clear?
Contamination is
something I always fear.
Are my plaques blue?
They shouldnt be,
No DNA left I'm down on
my knees,
So give me some clones?
I've got to have clones,
The end is so near.
I've had bad preps,
There've been quite a
few,
Ive tried all brands of
PEG, fresh buffers, but nothing would do.
And though they say,
Solutions will keep,
In my hands they last no
more than a week.
So send me some clones?
I've got to have clones,
The end is so near.
I've read my gels,
My eyes are quite sore,
There's still sequence
missing, of this I am sure.
But there it is!!
Finally done.
I've conquered this
fragment and now I have won.
Whats's this I hear?
A voice from the door.
My supervisor wants 10kb
more!
So give me some clones,
I've got to have clones,
Or I'll be here all year!
From: "rusty"
A biologist of world
renown
says a chromosome's
gender is found
by being so bold
as to take a good hold
of it's genes...and then
pull them down.
From: “John
Scalzi”
“ODE TO A
CLONE”
(This originally appeared
in America Online's "Howdy" area
on March 6th.)
Oh clone, my clone, how
can you bear it
To exist knowing you have
only one parent?
No zygote you, when
haploid cells met
You were produced with a
full chromosome set.
And now I can see that
you are confused
To discover your genes
have arrived slightly used.
To answer your questions
is the aim of this poem
You who are like me, my
clone, oh my clone.
You were not produced
from between sweaty sheets
In fact, you arose from
cells scraped off of my cheek.
Your genes gently placed
in an egg we provided
And then shocked with a
current until they divided.
You sat there a while
till it was time to fish
That thing that was you
from that petri dish.
(And though it may seem
churlish at this time to mention,
we suspect that the dish
had post-partum depression).
Oh clone, my clone, don't
feel angst or feel grief
Because the genes that
you have are not bought but are leased.
You have no mother, but
that's no impediment
Indeed, you've bypassed
the whole Complex of Oedipus.
To your one parent you
can always relate
To do otherwise is a form
of self hate.
Who can tell us apart
when we answer the phone?
No one at all, my clone,
oh my clone.
Think of all the
experiences we'll have!
(That is, once they allow
you to go from the lab).
I'll take you to places
that I've already been
So you can see them once
more for the first time again.
Let's go to work, where I
think we will find
That we'll get twice as
much done in just half the time.
And should we play
tennis, our opponents have troubles
As they must play
singles, but we shall play doubles.
Oh clone, my clone, I see
you are vexed
By ethical issues
admittedly complex.
If you are my clone, are
you wed to my wife?
And would having two
husbands cause marital strife?
Suppose that we clone
her? Then what would that be?
Bigamy, polygamy, or
polyandry?
Oh, the guilt I would
have would go to the bone
If I accidentally slept
with your wife, oh my clone.
Perhaps it would be
better if we lived all our days
Away from each other --
and go separate ways.
I would stay here and
live with my mate
And you would take yours
to some other state
Perhaps to Alaska, with
Northern Lights blue
To live off the land, in
a hut or igloo.
And with a deep sense of
pride all my friends would be shown
Many pictures of your
house, a Nome clone dome home.
Oh clone, my clone, you
impressive feat
The one person born with
no help from gametes.
When you have troubles
getting yourself to sleep
Do you think on your
compatriot, Dolly the sheep?
It's true that we both
share our genetic information
But I know that your mind
performs its own peregrinations.
In the end I am me, and
you are just you alone
You are your own person,
my clone, oh my clone.
From: “Keith
Bostic”
“MARY HAD A LITTLE FLOCK”
Mary had a little lamb,
then two and three and four.
And each a perfect
replica
of all that went before.
The followed her to
school one day
which was against the rule.
It made the children
laugh and play
to see her flock at school.
The teacher turned the
woolies out
to wait the bell at four.
But when the children
tried to leave
more sheep had jammed the door.
"What makes those
lambs love Mary so?"
The eager children fish.
Says teacher, dialing
9-1-1:
"She's got the Petri dish."
From: "Norma
van der Plaas"
Mary had a little lamb,
Its fleece was slightly
grey,
It didn't have a father,
Just some borrowed DNA.
It sort of had a mother,
Though the ovum was on
loan,
It was not so much a
lambkin,
As a little lamby clone.
And soon it had a fellow
clone,
And soon it had some
more,
They followed her to
school one day,
All cramming through the
door.
It made the children laugh and sing,
The teachers found it
droll,
There were too many lamby
clones,
For Mary to control.
No other could control the sheep,
Since their programs didn't vary,
So the scientists resolved it all,
By simply cloning Mary.
But now they feel quite sheepish,
Those scientists unwary,
One problem solved, but what to do,
With Mary, Mary, Mary...
~ unk
From: “Randy
Willis”
(1)A Mad Scientist Christmas
Twas the night before
Christmas and all thru my house,
Not a specimen was
stirring, not even a louse.
The test tubes were
capped and the rat cages closed,
The mold cultures fuzzy,
the mice in repose.
The oven kept warm the
ebola and pox,
I still need to locate my
husband's clean socks...
But that has to wait till
tomorrow, I know;
My buggies still need
that much more time to grow.
When from the kitchen
came a massive explosion,
I leapt from my bed in
perpetual motion.
Grabbing my lab coat I
pulled on my pants,
Struggling into them a
sick sort of dance.
With fury and haste I put
on a shirt,
Running out of the
bedroom on feet black with dirt.
Buttoning my lab coat and
donning a mask,
I ran into the kitchen
holding an Erlenmeyer flask.
I nearly passed out when
the man who I saw,
dressed in containment
gear sealed without flaw,
Held high a huge sack
with his arm stiff and straight,
I could tell he must have
a hard time with his weight.
Through the mike from his
suit he said without pause,
"Ho Ho Ho, Merry
Christmas, I'm Hanta Claus!"
Over his shoulder he
hefted the sack,
We walked into the living
room, I offered a snack.
He took it and smiled,
placed the sack by my bench,
Instantly I noticed the
Clostridium stench.
Brimming with joy, I
cried out with glee,
"Did you bring all
of these germies for me?"
"Oh yes," said
Hanta, "I must show propriety;
By bringing you microbes,
I'm saving society.
"You are the only
one who loves these diseases.
Therefore I'm glad to
oblige who it pleases."
Delirious with excitement
I sat by his side
While he gave me a year's
stock of microscope slides,
And pasteur pipettes,
drug resistant bacteria,
Such as staph, strep and
cultures from the genus Neisseria.
The gleam in my eyes
caused the house to be lit,
The moment he gave me a
gram-staining kit,
Clostridium tetani,
perfringens and sporogenes,
Salmonella typhi and
Streptococcus pyogenes!
Plus viruses known to
produce hepatitis,
Herpes, and rabies,
yellow fever and meningitis!
But that was not all, he
had parasites too,
Plasmodia, trypanosomes
and schistosomes true!
Tapeworms and roundworms,
plague-carrying fleas.
How sincerely generous,
Hanta did aim to please!
At long last he said he
must now go away,
His sled was experiencing
radioactive decay.
"Thanks for the
presents," I said, shaking his hand,
"They'll keep me off
the streets, you understand."
Hanta Claus smiled and
bid me goodnight,
Shouting "Merry
Christmas to all, and to all a good blight!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(2) Hark! The Streptococcus Brings
Hark! the Streptococcus
brings
Strep sore throat to all
who sing,
Chloraseptic doesn't cure
it
Other people's sneezing
lures it.
If the strep bug has a
virus
Scarlet fever then
arises,
Cross reaction with the
heart
Causes it to come apart,
Hark! the Streptococcus
totes,
Toxin and fire to all it
smotes.
Pneumonia makes you cough
and wheeze,
Mucus fills the lungs
with sleaze
A viscous greenish oozing
cloak,
That causes you to gasp
and choke
Without water you can
drown
If you breathe the strep
germ down
Hark! The Streptococcus
breeds
The misery of a bad
disease
Of fecal strep in food
beware,
Methane gas befouls the
air,
Speedily you drop your
pants
As if they held live fire
ants
On the toilet you are dying
Bent in pain, guts
liquefying
Hail! the Streptococcus
means
Glory to those who would
be lean
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(3) O Humid Night
O Humid Night
Anopheline mosquitoes
Are circling you in the
hope of a meal.
She takes a bite, saliva
from her mouthparts
Drool parasites which you
can't see or feel
Your brain can get sick,
You will have a coma
After the rage and the
headaches have passed
You're veggie soup, home
to protozoa,
Mosquito lands, time to
go home at last..
Fall on your knees,
Pale, burning with fever
Plasmodia
Are in your blood, were
in your spleen
Malaria
There's no real cure,
just in your dreams...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(4) Away in a Test Tube
Away in a test tube
My plague cultures grow
On nutrient agar
Mankind's greatest foe
It's easy to grow them
If one does it right
At thirty-five Celsius
All day and all night
Once they are ready
You can let them go
To sicken the masses
With pus-filled buboes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From: “Al Willis”
This Salk by the name of
Jonas
Promised wealth and a
title and bonus
To these monkeys called Rhesus
Who agreed, "You can lease us,"
But don't come on strong
like you own us."
From: “Adrian
Thompson”
“My Cold”
You became part of
me,
just when, I'm not quite
sure.
Most Likely in the
subway,
where the air is not so
pure.
Borne by airborne
droplets,
sprayed out by some
sneeze,
from some afflicted
victim,
then carried by the
breeze.
First my throat was
sore.
Now my nose is
streaming.
Viri in my head and
chest,
Their numbers must be
teeming.
It seems unthinkable
that such a tiny
sphere
300 Angstroms wide
has left me lying
here.
But, I know this is an
old war
my body's fought
before.
Little does this virus
know
what there is in store.
In my spleen the
leucocytes
issued with their
warrant,
spill out into my
blood
and are carried by the
torrent.
Into all capillaries
and annexes they
stray,
seeking virus O-1-4
until they find their
prey.
"Feed a cold"
someone said.
I ate and drank my
fill.
Knowing that more
leucocytes
would go in for the
kill.
Now I am much
better.
My head is feeling
clear.
A day in bed to sweat it
out
has brought the end quite
near.
Here is the
epilogue:
Just when I thought I'd won,
I looked up at
Fabienne
and knew I'd passed it
on!
From: “Al Willis”
The transplant had
finally started.
The incision was
carefully charted.
The dog was just sliced,
And the chicken was spliced,
And the dog is now
chicken-hearted.
From: “al Willis”
Sal is feared by all of
us,
But he's a decent fella.
His label is a handicap:
His name is Sal Monella.
From: “H
Ibelgaufts”
“Bacterial Genetics”
When studying bacterial
mating
Lederberg found it
frustrating
to make things look nice
and do everything twice
he invented replica
plating
Reassociation kinetics:
A scientist studying Cot
and to him it meant
rather a lot
the lines that he plotted
were very much dotted
but the referee thought
it was Rot..
From: “Osam Mazda”
A Scientist thought of a
theory on lymphocyte
after drinking overnight
The theory became
complicated more and more
until finally nobody
understood it any more
And the reality was not
also in his sight..
From: “Peter
Klaren”
“A couple of years ago I bought The Biochemist's Songbook. It's great!
It's got all major biological pathways described and set to the tune of popular
(folk) songs.”—Peter Klaren
*** Protein
Synthesis *** (Tune: My Bonnie Is Over The
Ocean)
The primary sequence of
proteins
Is coded within DNA
On the sense strand of
the double helix
coiled antiparallel way
(chorus:)
Intron and exons
changes are
posttranscriptional, and all
Glycosylations
Don't alter such basics
at all
*** The
Michaelis Anthem *** (Tune: The Red Flag)
The substrate changed by
an enzyme
Initially, in unit time
Varies, if not in excess
With substrate
concentration, [S]
If enzyme concentration's
low
And reaction back from
product's slow
Then if we choose a
steady state
Velocity and [S] relate.
This relationship can be
derived
As Briggs and Haldane
first contrived:
The unbound enzyme, [E],
we guess
Is [E0] (total), less
[ES]
k1[S][E] gives [ES]
formation
and k2[ES], dissociation
And [ES] gives the
product, P,
At a rate that's [ES] times
k3
When [ES] is at the
steady state
These terms are all seen
to relate
([E0] less [ES]) times
k1[S]
Equals (k2 + k3) times
[ES]
Now the maximum velocity
is k3[E0], (or big V)
These terms can be
manipulated
If one more definition's
stated
Define as Km (just for
fun)
(k2 + k3) on k1
And note that v
(velocity)
Is always [ES] times k3
Then rearranging these
equations
We get the final rate
equation
V times [S] on Km + [S]
is v (initial) - more or
less
*** The
Respiratory Chain *** (Tune: Battle
Hymn of The Republic)
My eyes have seen the
glory of respiratory chain
In every mitochondrium
intrinsic to membranes
Functionally organised in
complex sub-domaines
Where electron flow along
(chorus)
Glory, glory respiration
Glory, glory respiration
Glory, glory respiration
Where electrons flow
along
*** Photosynthesis *** (Tune:
Auld Lang Syne)
When sunlight bathes the
chloroplast, and photons are absorbed
The energy's transduced
so fast that food is quickly stored,
Photosynthetic greenery
traps light the spectrum through
Then dark pathway
machinery fixes the CO2.
Two chlorophylls (a, b to
you) are cleverly deployed
In photosystems I and II,
within the thylakoid
System I takes energy, at
700 (red)
While system II (with
pigment b) takes 680 instead.
..... and then on and on
for 7 stanzas....
Here's the reference:
Harold Baum (1982). The
Biochemists' Songbook. Pergamon Press, Oxford,
New York. (ISBN
0-08-027370-X)
From: “Noel Fong”
There was once a cloner
named Hector,
who had problems in his
private sector,
his wife was depressed,
'cos his genes weren't
experessed,
for lack of a functioning
vector!
From: “mini-AIR”
A biology prof name of
Caster
Had a project she knew
would outlast her,
For it was most complex,
Aimed at changing the sex
Of drosophila
melanogaster.
--Don
Homuth
A biology prof name of
Cast-
er who's project she
wanted to last
Took an idea complex
Aimed at changing the sex
Of drisophila
melanogaster.
-- Jay M. Pasachoff
The zoology coed did
squirm
At the lab quiz that
ended the term.
When asked "What are
tadpoles?",
(In the specimen bowls),
She wrote down "They
are elephant sperm."
--David
Hormuth
A research professor
(Renee),
Cloned people from ape
DNA.
The project went well,
Anyone can tell,
'Cause they're members of
congress today.
--Frank
Weisel Montgomery County Public Schools,
Rockville, MD
Collected By: Neel Kosto
Collected From: http://jcdverha.home.xs4all.nl/scijokes/4_1.html
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