And I depart in a cloud of poetry

Once again, we open the floor to the lyrical expression of a few readers who have been inspired by the recent effusion of musical and poetical outbursts here. Fortunately for all, there is no gong hanging on the wall behind you, the judges…although some of these have been pretty good.

First up is a little poem written during the Dover trial by a very famous evolutionary biologist who has asked me to keep it anonymous. No confidence in the meter, huh? Or perhaps fear that declaring such talent will lead to the literary set distracting from the real work of biology?

I think that I shall never see
A theory dumber than ID:
It says that God can make a tree,
A beaver or a honeybee-
That God can simply get a whim
To make the small E. coli swim.
He waves His hand through Heaven’s air
And lo! Flagella everywhere!
But sometimes even God falls down
And makes a poor, pathetic clown:
Yes, poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make Behe.

The second submission is by a well-known atheist who does out herself.

Super Geek
by Greta Christina
(to the tune of “Super Freak” by Rick James)

She’s a very geeky girl
The kind you cheat off of in math class
And she will never let her teachers down
Once she takes her SAT’s

She likes the boys in the chess club
She says that Spassky is her favorite
When she makes a move, it’s rook takes bishop, check-mate
She’s very hard to beat

The girl is pretty bright now
(The girl’s a Super Geek)
The kind of girl you read about
(In Omni Magazine)
The girl is pretty brainy
(The girl’s a Super Geek)
I’d really like to test her
(Every time we meet)
She’s alright, she’s alright, she’s alright with me, yeah
She’s a Super Geek, Super Geek, she’s super-geeky

She’s a very special girl
From her glasses to her Oxfords
And she will help me study AP math and physics
And AP bio, too

“Live long and prosper”‘s what she says
“Back in the chem lab I’ll be waiting”
When I get there, she’s got Number Two pencils
It’s such a geeky scene

The girl is pretty bright now
(The girl’s a Super Geek)
The kind of girl you read about
(In Omni Magazine)
The girl is pretty brainy
(The girl’s a Super Geek)
I’d really like to test her
(Every time we meet)
She’s alright, she’s alright, she’s alright with me, yeah
She’s a Super Geek, Super Geek, she’s super-geeky


As for me, it’s time for me to flee the country. Ta-ta, until I next find a wireless connection somewhere in South America!


  1. Greg Peterson says

    Have a blast. Watch out for the finches–they have highly adaptable beaks for pecking folk in the buttocks.

    Liked both poems–first one was my fav.

  2. James R says

    I loved both, but Super Geek made me laugh out loud. Very clever. I want to meet her in the Chem lab.

  3. mattmc says

    Great stuff. Liked them both, however Ive always had a thing for geeky girls. Have a great trip PZ and say hi to some giant tortoises for me.

  4. MrMarkAZ says

    I liked the first one, if only because I have to imagine that arrogant dork agreeing with the last line. “I am so complex I MUST have been intelligently designed!”

    Have fun in the Galapagos!

  5. Hairhead says

    Now I don’t want to hijack the thread or anything, but “Super Geek” is great because it equates brains with sexiness and that WORKS FOR ME! Let the jocks and cheerleaders fumble around in missionary position for their 2 – 3 minute sex; for maximum freakiness give me a girl-geek who’s just bought her first tube of lubricant and wants “try a few things out.”

    Ah, me, what I have done for science!

  6. David D.G. says

    Dang it!

    I’ve been trying to write a song myself along the lines of “SuperGeek” for a year or so now, and this one contains at least half of the sort of bits I was going to include! So I’ve got to vote for that one, since it’s the sort of song I’d have written myself — though probably not quite as well as Greta did.

    Even so, it’s a close call. I loved the first one, too.

    ~David D.G.

  7. says

    It is to laugh! Hey, has anyone told the Cuttlefish? Better yet, someone get Cuttlefish a guitar…

    Have a good time in the Gallapagos, Dr. Myers! We promise not to burn the place down.

    (hides flamethrower behind back, smiles innocently)

    The MadPanda, FCD

  8. DingoDave says

    Bon voyage, oh squiddley one.
    Or as a Frenchman once said to me; “Av a goode route.”

  9. says


    Seemed like reason had alot to say,
    Now it looks as though it’s gone away,
    The sheep have fled to FNC.

    Why…they…pull their wool,
    over eyes, I cannot say.

    I…guess…they fear more
    than they can use their brains today…ay…ay…ay

    He’s not half the man you think him to be,
    Casting shadows of insanity.
    Oh how that man, can anger me.

    What…he…cannot know,
    He still blows like judgment day.
    He says so much wrong,
    won’t be long till our minds all rot away…ay…ay…ay

  10. AnrhonyK says

    Have a fucking brilliant time out there PZ – we are all envious, but you’re the man to go. And go on then, have your own epiphany and tell us just what you found. This trip is your reward for everything you’ve done for us. Enjoy!

  11. Cyberguy says

    I have written three haikus all inspired by Darwin and evolution. Hope you like them:

    Harriet Haiku*
    ancient tortoise dreams
    remembers galapagos
    old man with white hair

    * Harriet (c.1830 – June 23, 2006) was a Galapagos totrtoise supposedly collected by Charles Darwin.

    Darwin’s Mulberry*
    mulberry leaves dance
    old branch now leans on a crutch
    where children once climbed

    * Charles Darwin noted the mulberry tree at Down House when he bought the property in 1842, and the tree still stands. His children used to climb down this mulberry tree from their bedroom window. One branch is now propped to prevent it breaking.

    Tenacity of Life
    tarseal joins concrete
    from a crevice where they join
    small leaves reach sunward

  12. cheeb says

    Being a woman, a geek, a freak, and from the same hometown as Rick James, I couldn’t not love the song.

    Someone did a similar Sir Mix-a-Lot parody called “Baby Got Brains,” though I forget who.

  13. says

    Omni Magazine, of all things! I grew up loving that magazine to pieces until, all of a sudden, it went off in a decidedly wooish direction, and then died.

    It was the home of quite a number of pieces of short science fiction, including the very short classic by Terry Bisson, They’re Made Out of Meat :)

  14. says

    Hey PZ,

    Don’t know if you have seen this but comfort is claiming you chickened out on the debate. He claims you were a no-show at the last minute. He seems to think you were afraid to debate him :>

    Not too surprising for a muppet who thinks he has bested Einstein.

  15. tatiana says

    I love the Super Geek song, with the minor quibble that you should read about her in Wired magazine. Is Omni still running?

  16. steve_h says

    A horrible tribute to the horrible Dr Myers – to be sung
    to no tune in particular for copyright reasons.

    PZ PZ
    PZ PZ

    He rants upon his web log
    The octopus of sin
    And now he needs a cracker
    Could you send one in?

    It must be consecrated
    for sanity to win
    A harmless prank, a minor act
    but either way this cracker’s fracked

    PZ PZ
    PZ, he’s bad

    the Cathlic League of Loonies
    is frothing so beware
    they’re menacing a student
    and they just don’t care.

    PZ will make a statement
    and show our freedom’s dear

    So go to church, and get one free
    and send it to him, sez PZ.

    See Also

  17. Ice9 says

    Too little, too late…I’m posting my Pope partially, before this thread goes too stale…I’ll follow up with the finished product soon. Guest Blogger Regents, perhaps the thread needs to be raised from the dead in three days or so.


    Victoria Apoplexa,
    The Rape of the Flock

    WHAT dire Offence from sanctimony springs,
    What mighty Contests rise from trivial Things;
    O muse, Amuse! And lend thy caustic wit
    So we may twit the pious hypocrite.
    In Godly work they opened their travail
    (First class from Houston ticketed to Vail)
    To minister the indigent, no doubt,
    (If any poor folks can be found about
    The condos and the bistros and the fun.)

    But pause we here, before we’ve quite begun
    To look a little closer at the scene
    Our heroes left behind. The Rockets junked
    The place where once Olajuwon had dunked,
    And now the vestry seats the ample rumps
    of forty thousand Godswopped redneck chumps. (1)
    Prosperity! They cry. Prosperity!
    (though gospels offer iffy clarity)–
    It’s just bad luck that John was sick the day
    That Jesus told the rich they couldn’t pay
    Their way, in any class, to Paradise
    And avarice became a Godly vice. (2)
    So verses touching camel/needle clearance
    Are rarely called to make a big appearance.
    (But one disciple out of four ain’t bad
    To Justifie God’s ways to Galahad.)
    And who needs Jesus when there’s Malachi
    With tithes and storehouses to justify
    The plasma, cockapoo, and Escalade. (3)
    It’s quite a feat to pastor unafraid
    To overlook essentials of the creed
    And enshrine instead the testament of greed.
    But Joel and Vicky aren’t your average fools
    Content with turning cheeks and golden rules.
    Commandments spoil the fun for congregations
    Who’d rather take their text from deadly sins.

    So twice on Sunday, 40,000 fawn
    Upon Osteens, and via Jumbotron
    Another million others sit at home
    And covet places in the CupiDome.
    Nor Joel nor Vicky have a PhD
    or other training in theology.
    Though bible-waving’s standard in their act
    They never quote much from the actual tract. (4)
    But why would converts bother to object?
    We see that grace and wealth oft intersect
    Among the white and Christian privileged class.
    The parking lot is full of tinted glass
    And trailer hitches, as the cameras show
    Ample evidence, as all the faithful know
    That Mick was wrong: we can get what we want. (5)
    And Joel and Vicky are the faithful font…

    End canto 1

    1 Lakewood Church meets in the arena formerly called the Summit, where the Houston Rockets played. It is the largest church in the United States in capacity and attendance. See
    2 See Matthew 19:23-24, Mark 10:24-25 and Luke 18:24-25.
    3 Malachi 3:6

    (tune in next week for canto II as we see Victoria, angry over coffee on her armrest, flashback to her NBA roots by elbowing a black flight attendant in the boob and driving on the cockpit of an MD-20 in a desperate attempt to find a white person. In canto III we will follow her fortunes as an assault plaintiff in a civil suit that may transfer 10% of her net worth to the victim in an ironic but a tad convoluted tithing, not counting lawyers. And in canto IV Joel and Vicky will meet God, and have an interesting conversation.)