Every high-school chemistry student in the world is reaching this blog in a futile attempt to discover information about Mole Day. Oh, ten-to-the-twentythird power, you fragile creature of mathematics, when will you release your grip on our nation's educators? Not even your multifold zeros can turn chemical equations into an engaging topic. It matters not how many salts are created through the release of gas (say, in the mixture of magnesium and hydrochloric acid). The sheer insanity of the volume of molecules that make up even the smallest of reactions is dizzying and even ludicrous and cannot compare to the Homecoming Dance or what-the-hell-those-two-were-doing- in-the-woods. Our nation's teens have far more important business at hand, and though chemistry is bound up in the mix, nay, necessary to the continuation of teendom everywhere, calculation or tabulation of the number of moles involved is irrelevant to it all.
That said, kids, I have no bountiful harvest of Mole Day poems for you to use for extra credit tomorrow. You will have to pen your own sad haiku to mark the occasion -- except for the following. It's a freebie. But if you all show up with it, your teacher will totally fail you. Be ye warned!
Oh, autumnal leaves.
There are not so many of you
As would make a mole.
5-7-5 and a fucking reference to the season. And it's goddamned true. There you go. Enjoy!
posted by Reen |link| 0 comments
