I didn’t realise I came across as a librarian. 
What's the least academic thing you've managed to get into a Serious Academic Paper or Presentation?
Business law. We had to come up with legal situations and ask the class how that business legal problem would be solved.
Mine involved a failing cheese shop being sold by Mr. Palin to Mr. Cleese.
I was sure somepony would get it.
I wrote a term paper on Ozzy Osbourne and another on the Super Bowl.
B+ for Ozzy, A for the Super Bowl.
There was also the paper on fly fishing as a means of social stratification in pre-industrial Europe, but that might have a bit of academic merit. I still consider it the most useless paper I ever wrote.
Only when you spoke of LOLcats 
In the index to one of my technical books, I sneaked in these two entries:
Loop, infinite: (see Infinite loop)
Infinite loop: (see Loop, infinite)
In the index to one of my technical books, I sneaked in these two entries:
Loop, infinite: (see Infinite loop)
Infinite loop: (see Loop, infinite)
[quote=“Gary “Wombat” Robson, post:25, topic:624576”]
In the index to one of my technical books, I sneaked in these two entries:
Loop, infinite: (see Infinite loop)
Infinite loop: (see Loop, infinite)
[/QUOTE]
…winner.
I managed to work in a few Wolfman Jack quotations and facts in a paper that ended up being published in a law journal.
In astronomy class when lecturing on stellar evolution I’ll often quote lines of a They Might Be Giants song.
Although, it might not count as nonacademic since the song I quote is this one.
I work in an organization that helps customers resolve their problems with, or questions about, jetliners. The rule when writing telexes to customers is passive voice, impersonal phrasing, keep it professional.
Still, I did manage to use the phrase “Much 727 lore is lost in the dim mists of antiquity…” in one. 
I assume a lack of inventory was one of the legal issues involved?
I was a political science major back when, and had a class on… I forget exactly what (hey, it’s been more than thirty-five years, now). It wasn’t International Relations, or International Economics, but it was about international affairs in one form or another. The prof had a reputation as a tough grader.
The final exam was a single essay. He gave us a scenario fairly clearly based on Japan just after WWII, a country with few natural resources and a completely flattened industrial infrastructure. The essay asked us to come up with a long-term plan for rebuilding the economy.
I wrote the essay in the person of the prime minister addressing the cabinet. I started off saying something like “On the table in front of each of you is a copy of a novel called Foundation, written by the American author Isaac Asimov.”
I went on to draw parallels between the scenario and the situation of the Foundation, deliberately isolated on an out-of-the-way planet with few resources, but blessed with extraordinary historical and technical knowledge, and how, over the next few centuries, it took advantage of that knowledge to supply the wants of the neighboring systems, becoming not only rich, but powerful in the process.
To my surprise, my total bullshit essay scored me an A+ in the class.
The prof must have been a fellow fan.
I wrote a big position paper on whether the state should add cystic fibrosis genetic screening to the neonatal testing program. The paper was replete with geneticist shorthand for describing various mutations that could be tested for. Lots of combinations of Greek letters and numbers mostly.
I then slipped a line into the bibliography in the style of Sesame Street: “This paper was brought to you by the letters Δ and ‘F’ and the number 508”. ΔF508 is the shorthand for the most common genetic mutation that causes CF.
My freshman year of college, I was taking a required humanities class whose final project was to be a research paper. Any kind of research paper. As long as I demonstrated the ability to look things up, cite them properly, and produce a readable text, the topic was immaterial.
I turned in a psychological case study of Magneto. A+
It was then that I realized how truly awesome university could be.
As far as a talk is concerned then anything goes - seen and done all sorts to spice a presentation up, even at v large conferences. I saw a funny one recently where an elderly Welsh professor picked a girl out of the audience, Springsteen style, and performed a few ballroom dance moves to illustrate the motion of an enzyme-substrate complex. (I only mention that he’s Welsh because the charm of that accent went a long way to him actually pulling this off).
The chemistry literature, though, is a totally different story. It is a sacred and venerable edifice with no place for popular culture references. It would be like drawing a cock and balls on a rock at the base of Mt Everest. Just a futile gesture.
Well, in law school I presented a paper on the history of medical/legal issues relating to death, opening with the infamous Star Trek quote: “He’s dead, Jim.” I went on to point out the short-sightedness of the quote, because as technology improves, the point at which a person is “dead” becomes more muddled, and it’s unlikely that Dr. McCoy would be able to make such a flat statement so far in the future.