Only 1860s kids will understand.
Last week, I was at the mall looking for a volumetric flask and a gram of rubidium, just as any ordinary person does, when I overheard a conversation between a few teenagers. It went something like this:
Teenager #1: Did you hear about the newest element?
Teenager #2: You mean oganesson? I heard it was created in a cyclotron in Dubna, Russia.
Teenager #3: [Sigh] I wish I could afford a cyclotron…
The teens continued to talk about the new element, praising the scientific innovations that led to its creation. As I listened to their conversation, I thought to myself: what is this ‘oganesson’ they’re talking about? Since when was that an element? Is this some kind of fad among the youths? I mean, whatever happened to classics like hydrogen, oxygen, carbon, etc.? I’d never even heard of it until now. So, as one does, I decided to look into this ‘oganesson’ and see what the kids are up to these days. And the more I read about oganesson, the more I began to be repelled by it—in the same way an electron is repelled by another electron.
You see, back in my day, elements used to last a long time. And when I say long, I mean long. Hydrogen-1, the most abundant hydrogen isotope, is stable. In fact, recent experiments have shown its lifetime is over 1030 years. In this day and age, it seems that elements don’t last more than a few seconds. Just take a look at oganesson, the latest thing the kids are raving about: its half-life is only around 0.7 milliseconds. What the hell are you supposed to do with an element like that? Whatever happened to practicality? With the short half-lives of these elements, one might find it hard to believe that they are synthetically made—which brings me onto another gripe I have.
I don’t like how synthetic everything is in this day and age. Back in my day, elements were made by Mother Nature, not scientists using a cyclotron. And the cost to make these elements is astounding; a cyclotron can cost anywhere between a few million to tens of millions of dollars—all for an element that doesn’t even last a second. Now, you may call me a conspiracy theorist, but when you look at the cost of these atoms compared to their half-lives, it becomes clear that this is all a money-making ploy by Big Atom. The fact that each new element’s half-life is shorter than the last is orchestrated so that you spend more money buying atoms that you don’t need. Sadly, the youths of today have fallen for this trap. (If anyone is skeptical about my claims on Big Atom, send me an email; I have dozens of internal documents by Big Atom executives that back me up.)
After all that, you would think the element names would at least be decent. However, looking at recent ones, it’s as if they have no thought put into them. Now there’s an element named californium. Can you believe that—californium? Gee, can you guess where that was made? It’s like nowadays, when naming elements, people just add “-ium” to the end of the name of a person or place—it’s about as original as a teacher assigning a titration as a lab exam. What’s next in this world of ridiculous element names? Is there going to be an element called scientistium? Intelligentium? Einsteinium? (That last one’s real, by the way.)
I truly feel sorry for this generation, as they will never get to fully appreciate the beauty and uniqueness of the original elements as I did as a child—it’s something I think only 1860s kids will understand. Instead, the youths of today are driven by fads on social media sites like Iongram and ThermoTok to buy all the latest elements. All in all, these modern elements are as ridiculous as the properties of a photon, if not more.
Now, you may be thinking that I’m doing a whole lot of complaining and a whole little of problem solving, but, rest assured, I have thought of a solution (to the half-life problem, at least). As any kindergartener can tell you, the reason why newer elements have such short half-lives is because they have too many protons, causing them to repel each other more than the strong force can handle and the nucleus to split up. But what if the nucleus didn’t split up? Is this possible? I present to you the solution: Gorilla Glue. If one were to Gorilla Glue the protons in the nucleus together, this would keep the nucleus stable and increase the half-life indefinitely. No more elements that disappear in less than a second; no more buying elements that you don’t need. Gorilla Glue would be an effective solution for many reasons: it’s the most adhesive substance on Earth, it’s estimated to last for at least 6.7 ×108 years, and it’s cheap (take that, Big Atom). One reader may think to themself: But, is Gorilla Glue really stronger than the strong force? The answer to that question is an unequivocal yes (I’m speaking from personal experience). This is all to say, despite the tragedy of modern elements, perhaps there’s hope somewhere—hope in the form of Gorilla Glue.