Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Samizdat .

Forwarded to me by a pal from Richmond IPMS:


Lawrence Livermore Laboratories has discovered the heaviest element yet known to science. The new element, Governmentium (Gv), has one neutron, 25 assistant neutrons, 88 deputy neutrons, and 198 assistant deputy neutrons, giving it an atomic mass of 312.

These 312 particles are held together by forces called morons, which are surrounded by vast quantities of lepton-like particles called peons.

Since Governmentium has no electrons, it is inert; however, it can be detected, because it impedes every reaction with which it comes into contact. A tiny amount of Governmentium can cause a reaction that would normally take less than a second, to take from four days to four years to complete.

Governmentium has a normal half-life of 2- 6 years; It does not decay, but instead undergoes a reorganization in which a portion of the assistant neutrons and deputy neutrons exchange places.

In fact, Governmentium’s mass will actually increase over time, since each reorganization will cause more morons to become neutrons, forming isodopes.

This characteristic of moron promotion leads some scientists to believe that Governmentium is formed whenever morons reach a critical concentration. This hypothetical quantity is referred to as critical morass.

When catalysed with money, Governmentium becomes Administratium, an element that radiates just as much energy as Governmentium since it has half as many peons but twice as many morons.

1 comment:

Barrett Bonden said...

Beautiful! Better still, the physics metaphor is sustained at a high level throughout. Given what I've read of your profile and your blog I don't find it at all strange that you would wish to reproduce this. But then one of my strangest early experiences in the US was discovering the contempt most Americans felt for the federal government.

Not all pastiches get the recognition they deserve. Coincidentally I'd just started in the US and was glancing through some back issues of "Instruments and Control Systems" the magazine I'd joined. I was surprised to come across an article called "The Kludge" which I probably don't need to explain to you. I complimented one or two senior figures in the company on the magazine's willingness to publish such a joky piece set among normal heavily technoid stuff. Brows were furrowed and, to a man, they all rushed off to re-read the piece. They hadn't realised it was a joke! My US reputation as a smart-aleck started that day.