Twas the Night Before Christmas

Write a Night Before Christmas but make it about OpenAI and people who enjoy AI tools

Twas the night before Christmas all throughout AI,
not a creature was stirring, not even one coder be.
The algorithms were hung by the mouse with care,
in hopes that a breakthrough soon would be there.

The data scientists were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of neural networks danced in their heads.
And I with my laptop and a mug of strong tea,
had just settled down for a night of coding glee.

When out in the data center there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
Away to the server room I flew like a flash,
tore open the door and threw up a dash.

The AI on the chassis of the server rack glowed,
giving the room a soft, eerie glow.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
and he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

“Now BERT! Now DALLE! Now GPT-2 and XLNet!
On, ATTENTION! On, Inception! On TensorFlow and PyTorch!
To the top of the networks! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”

As data that before the wild AI fly,
when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the server-room top the coursers they flew,
with the sleigh full of AI tools, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
the prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
down the server-room St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of AI tools he had flung on his back,
and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes–how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
and the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.

He had a broad face and a little round belly,
that shook when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
and I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
and filled all the servers, then turned with a jerk.

And laying his finger aside of his nose,
and giving a nod, up the server-room he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
and away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”