- Sep 19, 2020
- 7,040
- 8,160
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'Twas the Night before Carbon Neutral Christmas
with apologies to Clement Clarke Moore...
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the home,
Not a light bulb was burning, ninth night, none shone;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
We hoped that our neighbors' firewood would be shared;
The children were nestled, shivering in their beds,
While visions of spoiled pudding haunted their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in silk pants,
We cursed what had led to this, UNINFORMED, ANTI-NUKE RANTS.
When out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window, I flew like a blue flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
A nice, warm, almost Cherenkov-like glow,
The solar panels on the roof were producing no power,
Because of the snow, and clouds, and the sun doesn't shine at this hour.
I looked in the backyard, watching the motionless turbine.
I was about to give up all hope for a nice gust of wind.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear?
But a miniature sleigh, and eight radioactive reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and astute,
I knew in a moment, IT MUST BE SAINT NUKE.
Fast as thermal neutrons, his coursers, they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, EINSTEIN! Now, FERMI! Now, PROTON and NEUTRON!
On, ATOM! On STRONG FORCE! On, FISSION and FUSION!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
Like steam from the cooling towers used to fly,
The "Green Police" would not approve as they mounted to the sky,
So over to the local nuke plant, the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of uranium dioxide, AND SAINT NUCLEUS TOO.
And then, in a twinkling, I saw in the distance,
The fat man take to his slide rule, what a powerful prince.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Into the containment Saint Nucleus went with a bound.
He was dressed all in white, from his head to his foot,
His protective clothes were not tarnished with ashes nor soot;
A bundle of UO2 he had flung into the core,
He looked into his dosimeter, and then went back for more.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed like a detector of GeLi;
He was chubby and plump, a jolly elf, even if old,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of the cold.
The thoughts in his head were really rather droll,
He decided to give all the naughty anti-nukes MUCH-DESERVED COAL;
A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head,
Soon erased all of my irrational fears and dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And FILLED ALL THE CORE; then turned with a jerk,
He laid finger to nose, as if to itch,
Then he bolted to the control room, where he FLIPPED THE SWITCH;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team he gave a nod,
And away they all flew, after raising the last control rod.
THANK GOODNESS WE'RE SAVED! No more frost burn or blight!
Happy Christmas to all, and to all, GOOD LIGHT!
with apologies to Clement Clarke Moore...
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the home,
Not a light bulb was burning, ninth night, none shone;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
We hoped that our neighbors' firewood would be shared;
The children were nestled, shivering in their beds,
While visions of spoiled pudding haunted their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in silk pants,
We cursed what had led to this, UNINFORMED, ANTI-NUKE RANTS.
When out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window, I flew like a blue flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
A nice, warm, almost Cherenkov-like glow,
The solar panels on the roof were producing no power,
Because of the snow, and clouds, and the sun doesn't shine at this hour.
I looked in the backyard, watching the motionless turbine.
I was about to give up all hope for a nice gust of wind.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear?
But a miniature sleigh, and eight radioactive reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and astute,
I knew in a moment, IT MUST BE SAINT NUKE.
Fast as thermal neutrons, his coursers, they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, EINSTEIN! Now, FERMI! Now, PROTON and NEUTRON!
On, ATOM! On STRONG FORCE! On, FISSION and FUSION!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
Like steam from the cooling towers used to fly,
The "Green Police" would not approve as they mounted to the sky,
So over to the local nuke plant, the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of uranium dioxide, AND SAINT NUCLEUS TOO.
And then, in a twinkling, I saw in the distance,
The fat man take to his slide rule, what a powerful prince.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Into the containment Saint Nucleus went with a bound.
He was dressed all in white, from his head to his foot,
His protective clothes were not tarnished with ashes nor soot;
A bundle of UO2 he had flung into the core,
He looked into his dosimeter, and then went back for more.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed like a detector of GeLi;
He was chubby and plump, a jolly elf, even if old,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of the cold.
The thoughts in his head were really rather droll,
He decided to give all the naughty anti-nukes MUCH-DESERVED COAL;
A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head,
Soon erased all of my irrational fears and dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And FILLED ALL THE CORE; then turned with a jerk,
He laid finger to nose, as if to itch,
Then he bolted to the control room, where he FLIPPED THE SWITCH;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team he gave a nod,
And away they all flew, after raising the last control rod.
THANK GOODNESS WE'RE SAVED! No more frost burn or blight!
Happy Christmas to all, and to all, GOOD LIGHT!
