What Would “'Twas the Night Before Christmas” Mean to an Engineer?What Would “'Twas the Night Before Christmas” Mean to an Engineer?

“'Twas the Night Before Christmas” is arguably one of the most revered pieces of verse in American history and the center of many holiday audio and video programs. Famous actors, actresses, and even radio personalities have recited the memorable words of this iconic holiday verse, which, according to Wikipedia, is s a poem first published anonymously under the title "Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas" in 1823. Authorship has been attributed to Clement Clarke Moore, who claimed authorship in 1837, but it has also been suggested that Henry Livingston Jr. may have written it.

While the “'Twas the Night Before Christmas” has obvious appeal to many, how about the engineer that (unfortunately) might be slaving away to finish a project before the holidays? Design News decided to ask two popular AI programs, ChatGPT and Microsoft Copilot, to come up with their AI-inspired interpretations of this classic verse to an engineer who is wrestling with the final details of a project before signing off to spend time with family and loved ones.

We hope you will find these interpretations thought-provoking.

ChatGPT

We posed the questions to the most popular generative AI tool, ChatGPT, and here’s what it had to say:

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the lab,
Not a circuit was buzzing, not even a blab.
The blueprints were hung by the servers with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

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The coders were nestled all snug in their chairs,
While visions of algorithms danced through the airs.
And I in my goggles, and my trusty old spanner,
Had just debugged code with a caffeinated manner.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tripped over some wires and fell with a crash.

The LEDs blinked with a soft Christmas glow,
Giving the luster of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my overworked eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.

With a driver whose specs defied all tradition,
I knew in a moment—it was St. Technician!
More rapid than fiber his commands they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name:

"Now Solder! Now Debugger! Now Wrench and Ohm Meter!
On, Circuit! On, Resistor! On, Voltage and Heater!
To the top of the server! To the top of the wall!
Now iterate, iterate, iterate all!"

As sparks from a welder that fly through the night,
The sleigh ascended with incredible might.
So up to the rooftop the components they flew,
With a sleigh full of gadgets—and St. Nicholas too.

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And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the ceiling,
The hum of some motors and gears softly squealing.
As I grabbed my wrench and was turning around,
Down the vent St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed in all metal, from his head to his feet,
And his outfit was soldered, impeccably neat.
A bundle of tools he had strapped to his frame,
And he nodded approvingly, calling me by name.

His eyes—how they twinkled! His sensors, how merry!
His cheeks were like copper, his nose like a cherry!
His robotic hands whirred as he reached for my rig,
And he whispered, "This design... is quite big."

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his task,
Fixing my prototype faster than I could ask.
He optimized code, tightened screws with precision,
And left me with gadgets beyond comprehension.

Then raising his thumb as the circuits all lit,
He vanished like lightning—efficient, no quit.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he flew out of sight,
"Happy coding to all, and to all a good night!"

Microsoft Copilot

Design News also asked another AI program, Microsoft Copilot, for its engineering-inspired interpretation of “'Twas the Night Before Christmas,” and here is what it had to say:

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, Not a circuit was buzzing, not even a mouse. The blueprints were hung by the whiteboard with care, In hopes that new gadgets soon would be there.

The engineers were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of algorithms danced in their heads. And I in my lab coat, and Ma in her specs, Had just settled our brains from our last project checks.

When out from the lab there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter. Away to the mainframe I flew like a flash, Tore open the code, and resolved the cache.

The LEDs glowed with a digital glow, Gave the look of midday to objects below. When what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature drone, and eight servo gears.

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

“Now, Debug! Now, Compile! Now, Execute and Patch! On, Update! On, Upgrade! On, Encrypt and Batch! To the top of the network! To the top of the RAM! Now dash away! Dash away! Data go scram!”

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky. So up to the housetop the circuits they flew, With the sleigh full of tools, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof, The soldering and wiring of each tiny hoof. As I drew in my head, and was turning around, Down the firewall St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in gears, from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with flux and soot. A bundle of sensors he had flung on his back, And he looked like a hacker just opening his pack.

His eyes—how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry! His cheeks were like heat sinks, his nose a binary! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a byte, And the beard on his chin was as white as a light.

The stump of a stylus he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath. He had a broad face and a little round belly, That shook when he laughed, like a soft reset 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 stockings, then turned with a smirk. And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the heatsink he rose.

He sprang to his drone, 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 debugging to all, and to all a good night!”

What do you think? Do these verses resonate with you as you try to wind down before the holidays?