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The Ballad of Gary Morgan[1]

When the money mines turn mouldy
And the funding futures bleak,
When administrative work is all absorbin'.
In the corridors of conferences
The knowing ones will speak
In whispers of the name of Gary Morgan.

Some say his wealth is pirate gold
His folks found on a beach,
Some say conquistadores' bloody plunder,
Some claim it's from investments
That two aunts managed to reach
When a giant corporation burst asunder.

He only looks at quality
When judging to support,
He skips details and goes right to essentials
Without the grim obsession
To see infinite report
And he doesn't give a damn about credentials.

Don't think about applying,
Gary gladly does that chore,
Go take a ski vacation or toboggan.
On your return a Fedex will be leaning on your door
With a document to sign, from Gary Morgan.

You must certify your willingness
To cash checks without fear,
To scorn prodigious piles of pointless data,
To accept a giant hammock
And an endless keg of beer,
And to put off publication to much later.
And while the grant is active
Take on only tasks that matter,
Ignoring barbs and sneers  that may be lorgen[2],
Dispense with learned squabbles

And with academic chatter
And your duty will be done to Gary Morgan.

[1] This was written after hours of exhausting searching for possible funding for a project. It is a utopian dream of the perfect funder.

[2] Lorgen is a recently invented old Icelandic word that means whatever you want it to mean. It's principle function is to rhyme.

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