Overture
(Tune: "Overture", Tommy, The Who)
(Lyrics: Leslie Lowcock)
Our boy Rommy
Went to school
Got a degree
An honors in biology
Finished it up
In no time flat
Thought a PhD
Was where it's at
It's a postdoc
(Tune: "It's a boy!" Tommy, The Who)
(Lyrics: Leslie Lowcock)
Now it's a postdoc little Rommy
It's a postdoc
It's a postdoc little Rommy
At Guelph! At Guelph!
At Guelph!
Sweetest Little Cladogram
(Tune:"Sweetest Little Rosebud")
(Lyrics: Bob Murphy)
She's the sweetest little cladist
That you ever knew.
Her mind is quite amazing
And her body looks good too...
Rommy can you hear me?
(Tune: "Tommy can you hear me?", Tommy, The Who)
(Lyrics: Leslie Lowcock)
Rommy can you hear me?
Will I ever get through?
Romy can you see me?
How'm I gonna reach you?
Ooh ooh ooh Rommy, Rommy, Rommy, Rommy
What's it all about?
(graduate student's lament)
(Song: Ross MacCulloch)
Sometimes I can't help wonder
Am I making a great big blunder?
Is academics the life for me?
Will I ever get a Ph.D. and a job?
(I need a job)
I'm afraid that I won't get it right
In spite of working every night
Maybe I don't have the insight
Anxiety has got me so tight I can't sleep
(I need to sleep)
I've got no one to calm my fears
Haven't been on a date in years
None of my data makes any sense
Am I dumb, or just too dense to understand?
(I need to understand)
In the lab make a mess
In a hurry never rest
Running gels all day long
Always seem to get it wrong
So I go to see the prof
Late again get told off
Lunch time comes forget to eat
Read a journal fall asleep
Everybody's on my back
All this pressure I can't hack
Get to bed at 4.00 am
Six o'clock I'm up again
Maybe I should quit this old school
Nine to five like other people do
Go to work, my Uncle Harry says
I could get a job with good pay, at the bank
You know I've almost finished my run
Maybe I'll have time to sleep when it's done
(Time to sleep when it's done
What's it all about?
What's it all about?
What's it all about?
Starch Gel Wizard
(Tune: "Pinball Wizard," Tommy, The Who)
(Lyrics: Leslie Lowcock)
Ever since I was an undergrad
I've cooked my own starch gels,
Poulik, Clayton-Tretiak
And Tris-Citrate as well.
It's ruined all my clothing
And killed my sense of smell.
But that electrophoretic whiz-kid
Sure cooks a mean starch gel.
He stands like a statue
And he works like a machine.
Pouring out the molds
And mixing in between.
Juggling 20 power packs
And buffer trays as well.
That electrophoretic whiz-kid
Sure cooks a mean starch gel.
He's a starch gel wizard
With his Erlenmeyer flask.
A starch gel wizard!
It's not an easy task!
How do you think he does it? I don't know!
What makes him so good?
Always gets the first run.
On the balance he's really quick.
Pulls five slices off at once.
He knows all the tricks.
I stand in awe to see
These methods he knows so swell.
That electrophoretic whiz-kid
Sure cooks a mean starch gel.
I thought I knew
How to stain a slice.
But for esterase
I had to ask his advice.
Even with my favorite enzyme
His resolution's better.
He cranks out 50 slices
While I trash another sweater.
He never spills a drop.
He's tidier than hell.
That electrophoretic whiz-kid
Sure cooks a mean starch gel.
DO YOU THINK IT'S ALL RIGHT!
(Tune: "Do You Think It's All Right!," Tommy, The Who)
(Lyrics: Leslie Lowcock)
Do you think it's all right
To use these esterase loci?
Do you think its all right
There's just a few too many?
WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?
(Lyrics: Ross MacCulloch)
Got a program here that's just the thing
Yeah it can do 'mos anything
It'll take those data turn 'em any which way
An' make 'em do whatever you say
CHORUS:
So tell me what, what are you waiting for -- boy?
What, what are you waiting for?
Please tell me what, what are you waiting for -- boy?
Yeah what, what are you waiting for?
There's an option here for every need
Jus' toggle 'em ON and they'll do the deed
An' you can shift them ol' results in any direction
You know you gotta make 'em fit your preconceptions
CHORUS
Got ambiguous data? Hell, just ignore 'em
Cause this 'ol program eliminates all those problems
Yeah, don't let no candy-ass assumptions drag you down
And shor' as hell don't let no goddamn data push you around!
CHORUS
NO D
(Tune: "I'm Free!," Tommy, The Who)
(Lyrics: Leslie Lowcock)
No D. No D.
If a phylogeny is what you want to see.
No D. No D.
Character and state data are what you need.
If I told you what it takes to make the shortest tree
You'd laugh and say "nothing's that simple"
But you've been told many times before
Phenetic trees are nothing more
Than just a way to say that things are similar.
No D. No D.
Character and state data are what you need.
No D. No D.
If a phylogeny is what you want to see.
Addicted to Clades
(Tune: "Addicted to Love," Rip Tide, Robert Palmer)
(Lyrics: Bob Murphy/Leslie Lowcock)
The lights are on, but you're not home
Philosophy, is not your own
Your pencil breaks, your body shakes;
Another character is all it takes
You can't sleep, you can't eat;
There's no doubt — you're in it deep
Computer's old. It's just too slow.
Another Mac is all you neeeeeeeed.
You like to think you're immune to this stuff — oh yeah?
It's closer to the truth to say you can't get enough
You know you're gonna have to face it;
You're addicted to clades.
You see the signs, but you can't read.
You're running at, a different speed.
Your heart beats in double time;
Another cladogram and you'll be mine.
A one track mind; you can't be saved;
Cladistics is all you crave.
If there's some data left for you,
You don't mind if you do.
You like to think you're immune to this stuff — oh yeah?
It's closer to the truth to say you can't get enough
You know you're gonna have to face it;
You're addicted to clades.
Might as well face it you're addicted to clades
The lights are on, but you're not home
Your philosophy is not your own.
Your pencil breaks, your teeth grind,
Another cladogram will do just fine.
You like to think you're immune to this stuff — oh yeah?
It's closer to the truth to say you can't get enough
You know you're gonna have to fact it;
You're addicted to clades
Might as well face it you're addicted to clades
ONE OF THESE THINGS
(Tune: "One of these things," Sesame Street)
One of these things is not like the other.
One of these things just doesn't belong.
Can you guess which thing is not like the other
Before I finish this song?
WILLI HENNIG SUPERSTAR
(Tune: "Jesus Christ Superstar," Andrew Lloyd Weber)
(Lyrics: Leslie Lowcock)
Every time I look at you I don't understand.
How you let the things you did get so out of hand.
You'd have managed better if you'd had it planned.
Now why'd you choose such a backward time in such a strange land?
If you were here today you could have reached the whole nation.
Translations are much quicker, with all this mass communication.
Don't you get me wrong...
Only wanna know...
CHORUS:
Willi Hennig, superstar
What did you use synapomorphies for?
Willi Hennig, superstar
Why'd you create new methods for?
Willi Hennig, superstar
and all of your followers near and far.
Willi Hennig, superstar
Just who the hell do you think you are.
Tell me what you think about the pick of the crop.
Which of all the cladists would you put at the top?
Nelson and his patterns? Is this where it's at?
Estabrook's compatibility? Now does this show the fact?
Felsenstein and likelihood, Is this the way to go?
Farris' Wagner trees? Is he the head of the show?
Don't get me wrong
Only want to know
CHORUS
Clado Babble
(Tune: "My Generation," My Generation, The Who)
(Lyrics: Raoul Bain)
People try to twist my hand
Think if they push I'll understand
Fill their mouths with words from Scrabble
They're just talking cladobabble
That's cladobabble
Yeah that's cladobabble, baby
(You're just talkin' cladobabble--x2)
Why don't you all ph-ph-pheneticize?
Cause all you ever do is criticize.
I'm not trying just to rouse some rabble
But you keep talking cladobabble
That's cladobabble...
Why do you talk ph-ph-philosophy?
What's the difference if you get the same tree?
Every time I'm high in the saddle
You buck me off with your cladobabble
That's cladobabble...
People try to think real deep
Most of that junk puts me to sleep
But every time I try to dabble
You climb the Tower of Cladobabble
That's cladobabble.....
LIKE A BEER CAN
(Tune: "Like a Virgin," Like a Virgin, Madonna
(Lyrics: Bob Murphy)
Like a beer can
Popped for the very first time
Like a beeeeeer can
Lips to metal one more time
Substitute
(Tune: "Substitute," My Generation, The Who)
(Lyrics: Leslie A. Lowcock)
Two strands of DNA go together
But they don't stay that way forever
PCR amplifies these helix things
Pull them apart and you can read the strings
But the simple things you see are all complicated
Four little letters get you real frustrated -- yeah
Substitute, C for G
Substitute, A for T
Substitute, it ain't no fun
I hope I get this sequence done
I was born with a Gilson pippetteman for a pacifier
The light strand of my sequence was heavy, and the heavy strand really lighter
And now you dare to tell me that you blew the extraction
Then forgot to add the TAQ that fuels the amp reaction
Your radiograph patterns suggest hybridization
Looks bloody good but it's just contamination. . . yeah
Substitute, 5' for 3
(Substitute)
Complimentary strands you see
(Substitute)
Doesn't matter what it means
(Substitute)
'Cause all you've got there are pseudogenes
Substitute, C for G
Substitute, A for T
Substitute, it ain't no fun
I hope I get this sequence done
Systematic Jungle
(Song: Ross MacCulloch)
(pump up the acrimony, pump up the acrimony...)
You read it in the journals, hear it at seminars
Derogatory comments, methodology wars
You hear it over coffee, you hear it over beer
"That guy's work is bullshit and it shouldn't be published here!"
It's a systematic jungle, it's a systematic jungle,
A systematic jungle out there
Why can't we keep it friendly hypothesize and refute?
How come it gets so f---ed-up and ends up in dispute?
A controversial paper can't get a good review
And a lineup forms to cut it up in the pages of Points of View
It's a systematic jungle, it's a systematic jungle,
A systematic jungle out there
If molecules conflict, with morphology
Both sides leap up to defend their methodology
Journals are established, supporting just one side
But if all data aren't accepted then can this be justified?
CHORUS:
It's a systematic jungle out there
And if you're planning a career
Take a word of caution because
Everybody's watchin' and
We're telling you you've got to beware
You know that these meetings, are supposed to be big fun
But what goes on inside them, it sure keeps you on the run
At every evening social, and in dingy residence halls
The clash of ideologies echoes off the walls
It's a systematic jungle, it's a systematic jungle,
A systematic jungle out there
Opposing schools of thought, meet up once a year
They teach each other nothing but intimidation and fear
Instead of making some attempt at reconciliation
They train their students in the art of retaliation
CHORUS
LISTENING TO YOU:
(THE WILLI HENNIG REFRAIN)
(Tune: We're Not Gonna Take It!, Tommy, The Who)
(Lyrics: Leslie Lowcock)
Working with you
I learned the starch gel
And the appropriate lab techniques.
Following you
I learned to tell
When data are complete
Right behind you
I see the methods.
And in the end I see the tree.
From you
I find the meaning
Of true phylogenies.
BEHIND BLUE EYES
(Tune: "Behind Blind Eyes,". Who's Next, The Who)
(Lyrics: Bob Murphy/Leslie Lowcock)
We all know what it's like, to be the bad man
To sit and throw sand in each other's eyes
We all know what it's like to be hated
To be fated and blinded by our lies
But my dreams they are as empty
As my conscience seems to be
We have hours, maybe only years
To save the world's biodiversity
How many know what it's like, to watch their child die
Like some do, and they blame you
No one bites back as hard on their anger
When they see us acting like we do
And these dreams they seem so empty
Like our conscience seems to be
We have little time remaining
To make a difference, can't you see?
mmmmmm
Find a big tree crack it over
Plant designer coffee to be cool
Destroy much needed pharmaceuticals
Yeah, throw more sand and act like a fool
And when we consume more than we need
It means that ignorance is in style
'Cause we've lose sight of what's important
So hold me close let me hug my child
We all know what it's like to be the bad man
To sit and throw sand in each other's eyes
Character state trees