Sound the bugle

A long, long criminal past

Posted in genetics, Mas despacio, por favor, Poetry by justescaped on January 20, 2009

‘It could be my troubl’d digestion,
But forgive my reluctance to grasp the situation
You inform me, Barrister Jones,
Without a shadow of a doubt, and making no bones
That Mr. Smith here, an accountant by heart
Who just does’nt look the criminal part
Should be lock’d away, and throw ‘way the key
When he’s innocent, such a mystery!’

Sir Jones rose, wiping his brow;
held back a frown, did a kowtow:
‘Your estimable Lordship, tis’ true and a safe bet
That no crimes have been committed yet
But upon this, I stake my career
That we shall sleep at nights, without fear
Only if this freak of genetics is incarcerated
For his DNA, his fate is predated’

‘Mendel told us, and so it seems
We are a bit more than a bundle of genes
This cavernous nose, bequeath’d from my father
These jowls from a neighbor, or so I gather
We are hence but insufferable pawns
At the mercy of those transcribed exons
But Mr. Smith’s legacy’s of the unenviable sort
A menagerie of bandits, ruffians and villians (what not!)

Let’s start with those hands, shapely and hooved
And so were Reaper Jack’s: third great-uncle, once removed
The allele that shapes his sense of humor
from Attila the Hun; (he didn’t have any, so goes the rumor)
His constitution, sturdy as we can gauge
matches Genghis Khan’s, given his age
And as a final point, to make evidence fitter
These generous contributions from Stalin and Hitler!

So you see, Mi lord,its not his demeanor
Its history that will guide his future behavior
As sure as we are of the genetic code
Large tracks of his DNA are steeped in blood
For carnage to occur, in case we are forgettin’
Awaits only the unfolding of his heterochromatin
And hence the right decision, in all propriety
To the gallows for him, save the society!’

The Lordship wiped his prominent crown,
As with the Barrister, he fought back a frown
For Mr. Smith was no mere clerk,
He kept the Judge’s books, and knew all his ‘work’
Jail for the defendant would be unmitigated disaster
Both Judge and Smith would be on the prison roster
So the Judge, in all his wisdom, decried:
‘This might well be the day Justice died

This man’s got all the makings of a crook
But also the victim of a path his genes took
And so I pass judgment in the prism of science
And in this, I will brook no defiance
One’s mind and brain controls our modus operandi
The former, he’s got from Einstein, the latter from Gandhi
The court rules the man to be set free
My son, may the best human specimen you live to be’

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