By Jim Wright
This post first appeared on Columbus Day, 2014. // Jim
Here’s what I don’t get: Pluto.
More specifically, I don’t get the argument over what to call it.
I’ve seen people nearly come to blows over Pluto.
And I just don’t get it.
Planet, minor planet, Kuiper Belt object, whatever.
I mean, if you’re not an astronomer – that is: a vitamin D deficient long-hair who spends all night staring at a computer monitor filled with mathematical gibberish instead of watching Bang Bang Theory like normal people – why do you care?
No, really, why do you care?
Go outside, look up. Where’s Pluto?
You have no goddamned idea, do you?
It’s not something you need to deal with on a daily basis. Hell, it’s not even in the bible, is it?
And let’s be honest, shall we? The closest most Americans get to astronomy is watching Dancing With The Stars and giggling over the pronunciation of Uranus.
So, I’ll ask again: why does anybody care what the hell science calls the damned rock?
Hell, Clyde Tombaugh could have just made the whole thing up…
Clyde. Clyde Tombaugh. American astronomer. The guy who “discovered” Pluto back in 1930. You know, Clyde Tombaugh. I mean, you’re all over the whole Pluto thing, right? Probably have Clyde’s swimsuit poster on your bedroom wall. Oh, sure, Clyde. Clyde Tombaugh. Big fan. Saw the movie with Brad Pitt as Tomblargh, that’s the one with the sparkly vampire zombie Nazis, right?
Tombaugh could have made it up. Sure he could have. And how would you know? Pluto, it’s just a spot on a photographic plate. I mean, who verified this? Other astronomers? Oh, and we believe them, do we? …read more
Via:: Stone Kettle Station