Oughtta be a Planet, Dammit.

In 2008, the scientific community wrapped up a debate that had been going on for some time, and declared that Pluto was no longer a planet. It is now known as a plutoid, a dwarf planet, or that big sphere somewhere way the fuck over there. I was ardently opposed to the demotion then, and I still am now, although admittedly without any scientific grounds at all. I just liked the thing, is all.

Wrong Pluto.

This week, the reason I didn’t like the decision became manifest in a 5 year old girl. In class, we were learning about sea turtles and how awesome they are, when she suddenly has an important question.

“MARK!” she yells.

“Yes,” I reply calmly.

“DID YOU KNOW THAT LIKE FOREVER AGO PLUTO WAS A PLANET?!” Like many children, this one felt the need to scream most things.

“Yeah. I’m kind of upset about it.”

“WHY?!”

“Because I liked it as a planet. I wish it was still considered a planet.”

“BUT IT’S JUST A HUNK OF ROCK!”

There it was. Pluto has been diminished in importance for all who have had the misfortune of being born in the last 5 years. Yes, it is important to have scientific consensus about the classification of planets, but surely we could have created a bigger tent. Instead of 8 planets, let’s have 14 with room for more. Bring on Eris, bring on Dysnomia, bring any big hunk of rock into the party. Whatever keeps them in the same discussion as the obviously awesome Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn will do. Children have vivid imaginations that are triggered by the things they see, and I wouldn’t mind if some of them pictured themselves standing on a planet that is cold beyond comprehension, looking at a sun that’s barely brighter than the milky way.

Artists' impressions slay me. Thanks Wikipedia.