Chemistry Cat

What do you do with a dead chemist? Barium.

In late July 2011, a cat appeared on meme generators across the internet. It wore a bow tie and glasses, posed before a chalkboard like a tenured professor who happened to be a feline. Chemistry Cat was ready to teach, and its curriculum consisted entirely of terrible puns.

"Argon walks into a bar. The bartender says, 'We don't serve noble gases here.' Argon doesn't react."

"I would tell you a chemistry joke, but all the good ones argon."

The format was classic Advice Animal: image macro, Impact font, scientific wordplay that made you groan and grudgingly upvote. Chemistry Cat peaked alongside its brethren—Philosoraptor, Bad Luck Brian, and the rest of the menagerie that defined early 2010s meme culture.

The cat's appeal was nerdy and wholesome. It made periodic table jokes accessible. It turned organic chemistry into something you might actually want to share on Facebook. For a brief moment, being a science nerd was cool, or at least meme-able.

But Advice Animals as a format began to fade by 2013-2014, and Chemistry Cat went with them. The puns had been exhausted. The reactions had reached completion. The catalyst could catalyze no more.

Chemistry Cat now rests in the great laboratory in the sky, where all the solutions are properly labeled and the puns never stop.

May your bonds never break, professor. May your bonds never break.