There are only a handful of things each high school student on Earth gets sent off to college with, and serving as host to these common things is a very special time in your life. Because there are no colleges elsewhere than on Earth as far as we can tell, at least at the beginning of a semester before you lose or trash these things, you should be able to feel the great harmonic convergence: You are one with all others in the universe. One of the things you’re sent away with is a pair of scissors (rounded-tipped scissors with rubberized finger-rings to prevent blistering your tender, never-worked-a-day-in-your-life hands), and another is a glow-in-the-dark mobile of the solar system to dangle over your bed. No one really knows why family send you the latter of these as a going away gift, but perhaps it’s just a simple gesture to help you remember to phone home.
This semester, however, you have an extraordinary opportunity to use these two All-American parting gifts together. The International Astronomical Union (IAU), at the conclusion of their 26th general assembly held in Prague last month, has declared that Pluto is no longer a planet. What this means is: It’s time to start snipping.
Despite the fact it orbits the sun and is big enough for gravity to quash it into a round ball, apparently the little bugger has not “cleared other bodies out of the way of its orbital neighborhood,” according to planetary criteria established by the IAU. So after being recruited in 1930 and surviving a pledge decade and half-century of hazing to gain membership of the planetary fraternity, what little Pluto can declare on its resume when it leaves the solar system a billion years from now is it was only a fraternity pledge in the 20th century.
Such a dramatic change in something we’ve all been taught as 20th century creatures is one of the beauties of science. It’s this beauty that gets our understanding of things continually renovated. Of course, this makes textbooks really hard to resell at the bookstore. But scientists are not concerned with that problem.
Will the tides on Earth change because Pluto is no longer a planet? Will hurricanes in the Atlantic basin be more destructive? Will Antarctica melt more quicly? And, most importantly, will the glow-in-the-dark mobile atop your bed tip to its Jupiter-side and knock you in the head when you try to get up for morning class?
The answer to all these questions is a resounding “no.”
But don’t think that this change is not causing problems! In fact, demoting Pluto from planetary status is wreaking havoc with one of the largest civilizations in the universe — Disney. What are we now to call Mickey Mouse’s pet dog that wears the orbital collar: Lassie? Old Yeller? Rin Tin Tin? Beethoven? Wishbone? Goofy? Frankenweenie? Disney holds the copyrights for all known dog names in the universe, and using any of these to rename Mickey’s Pluto will violate copyright terms.
One suggestion is that Mickey’s dog will be named with the former symbol of the artist formerly known as Prince. The symbol’s not being used any longer, and it’s something Disney doesn’t yet own, so all they have to do is buy it. For that matter, they could just as easily buy the planet Pluto.
The decision to reorganize the solar system is not sitting well with Plutonians either.
In retaliation they have declared Earth is no longer a planet. They make a number of convincing arguments to exclude us from their solar system.
For one, they claim any planet in which the dominant species rides gigantic stingrays for fun doesn’t belong in the same solar system as Plutonians.
For another, they exclude societies that allow crazed sportscasters to purchase facial disguises and guns at the same place on the same day with the same credit card.
Earth’s saving grace, according to the Plutonians, was the recent U.S. Open Tennis Championship concluded this past weekend. They apparently have much affection for “the little one called Andre Agassi,” because with his short stature and large, hairless head Agassi apparently most closely resembles members of their species.
Much affection of a different sort resulted in Plutonians renaming their major moon, Charon, with a new suffix. The moon is now named “Charopova,” after the leggy, 6-foot, blonde with dreamy eyes who won the women’s singles championship.
Telescopes and space probes tell us Pluto is a sphere of ice and rock, void of an atmosphere. But, because Plutonians live in cities carved beneath the ice and rock, they haven’t noticed our eavesdropping. But they do object to the conclusions we’ve made about their planet. According to them, Pluto has plenty of atmosphere: the ice is for cocktails, and the rock is for those who hate disco.
In fact, Elvis, Howard Hughes and Ken Lay all hang out on Pluto. After the demise of Motley Cre, Tommy Lee lived on Pluto for a while, but they sent him back. Apparently it’s a crime there to draw pictures on your skin. Watching a distant star explode on his lonely trip home inspired Lee to name his new band Supernova.
Plutonians also like to gossip about other planets. Mars is really the chewing gum center of a strawberry-flavored Charms Blow-Pop. Saturn has rings because it never takes a bath. Jupiter’s Great Red Spot is really a huge hickey.
Do we really know what they’re thinking? Sure! What do you think that big satellite dish behind Gouaux Hall is used for?!
