At the risk of sounding overly-redundant, I have to bring up the 'Pluto' thing, again. Our good friend, keeping silent vigil in the outer reaches of the solar system, has, once again, been dumped on by the astronomical community.
In an attempt to reinforce their recent decision to strip Pluto of its planetary status, the International Astronomical Union has grouped it with other small solar-system bodies with well-known orbital paths. In other words, asteroids.
Yes, friends, Pluto has a new name and that name is '134340'.
It just doesn't roll off the toungue, does it? What of Charon, Hydra, and Nix? 134340 I, II, and III, respectively. Geeze, let's kick them while they're down.
It's late, I'm tired, and I'm getting very weary of piddly bickering over absolutely nothing. People are protesting in the streets (or, at least, the University campuses) over this farce. I can't say as I blame them. I've written stories about Pluto. I get sentimental over the little iceball.
Throughout the centuries, it has been the goal of humankind, in general, to make things much more complicated than they need to be. Something as simple as camping used to be a tent and a campfire. Nowadays, I see thirty-foot RVs pull into campgrounds and never disgorge their passengers except when connecting the water and electricity. Changing fluids in a car used to involve unscrewing a bolt, draining the fluid, and putting more fluid in. Now, it involves fifteen to thirty separate steps. Taking music along for a walk used to involve a transistor radio, then a walkman, and now, an MP3 player with desktop computer and internet support and supply.
Give it a rest. Besides, 'Pluto' is easier to remember.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Friday, September 01, 2006
Requiem for a Lost World. . .
I can stay silent no longer. I grew up a science wonk and, as such, I knew for a fact that the Solar System had nine planets. I was aware that that number could increase due to new discoveries but, barring a cosmic catastrophe, it should never decrease.
I knew the sun's name was Sol, and the moon's name was Luna. At the time, Jupiter only had nine moons and, thanks to Mariner 10 and the later Voyager probes, we had visited all of our known planetary neighbors.
Now, Jupiter has sixty-three confirmed moons, we've proven that the 'Face' on Mars was merely a trick of light and shadow, and mysterious, icy Pluto is now only a 'dwarf planet'.
In 2003, another celestial body was discovered, larger than Pluto and just a bit farther out. The new world was called 'Xena', and its discoverers proposed calling her and two other bodies 'planets'. The International Astronomical Union rejected the proposal, then decided to push around our tiny ninth neighbor. It was decreed that a new definition for the word 'planet' was needed.
According to the IAU, as of August 24th, 2006, a 'planet' is any body that orbits the Sun, is large enough to be made round by its own gravity, and has cleared the area around it of smaller cosmic objects.
This definition, of course, excludes planets that are struck on a regular basis by asteroids. Earth, for example.
In a Reuters article by Andy Sullivan, Allen Stern, the organizer of a petition challenging the IAU's ruling, said that the definition was "technically flawed, linguisticly flawed, and scientifically embarrassing". Hear, hear.
An astute eye would pick out the most glaring flaw. . . "A planet is any body that orbits the Sun. . ." The AIU makes things so general that they, themselves, are confused. Since these are bodies that orbit around 'the Sun', does that mean that extrasolar planets need their own definition? I propose we call them 'Those big, round things that aren't shiny'.
But we have drifted off course a bit. Why does the AIU have it in for Pluto? It has been a planet since February 18th of 1930. Why, now, should we demote it with a definition that is so poorly worded that we have to make exceptions to keep calling Earth a planet? Is it because of its size? Its composition? Perhaps they just don't want to memorize any more names.
Pluto was discovered by Clyde Tombaugh with ground-based equipment in the 1930s. At a diameter of 2390 kilometers, it is half the size of Mercury and just over half the size of our moon. Pluto has three confirmed moons, Charon, Hydra, and Nix; as many as all the inner planets, combined. Perhaps it hasn't cleared its surrounding space of cosmic debris, but could Mercury, if it weren't so near the sun?
Let's leave our textbooks alone. We can always add easier than we can erase. I say we give Pluto a chance. It may be smaller than Luna, but it orbits Sol with the rest of the planets, and holds silent vigil over the Kuiper Belt with all the other ageless little iceballs.
I bet if it were made of diamond, they'd call it a planet again.
I knew the sun's name was Sol, and the moon's name was Luna. At the time, Jupiter only had nine moons and, thanks to Mariner 10 and the later Voyager probes, we had visited all of our known planetary neighbors.
Now, Jupiter has sixty-three confirmed moons, we've proven that the 'Face' on Mars was merely a trick of light and shadow, and mysterious, icy Pluto is now only a 'dwarf planet'.
In 2003, another celestial body was discovered, larger than Pluto and just a bit farther out. The new world was called 'Xena', and its discoverers proposed calling her and two other bodies 'planets'. The International Astronomical Union rejected the proposal, then decided to push around our tiny ninth neighbor. It was decreed that a new definition for the word 'planet' was needed.
According to the IAU, as of August 24th, 2006, a 'planet' is any body that orbits the Sun, is large enough to be made round by its own gravity, and has cleared the area around it of smaller cosmic objects.
This definition, of course, excludes planets that are struck on a regular basis by asteroids. Earth, for example.
In a Reuters article by Andy Sullivan, Allen Stern, the organizer of a petition challenging the IAU's ruling, said that the definition was "technically flawed, linguisticly flawed, and scientifically embarrassing". Hear, hear.
An astute eye would pick out the most glaring flaw. . . "A planet is any body that orbits the Sun. . ." The AIU makes things so general that they, themselves, are confused. Since these are bodies that orbit around 'the Sun', does that mean that extrasolar planets need their own definition? I propose we call them 'Those big, round things that aren't shiny'.
But we have drifted off course a bit. Why does the AIU have it in for Pluto? It has been a planet since February 18th of 1930. Why, now, should we demote it with a definition that is so poorly worded that we have to make exceptions to keep calling Earth a planet? Is it because of its size? Its composition? Perhaps they just don't want to memorize any more names.
Pluto was discovered by Clyde Tombaugh with ground-based equipment in the 1930s. At a diameter of 2390 kilometers, it is half the size of Mercury and just over half the size of our moon. Pluto has three confirmed moons, Charon, Hydra, and Nix; as many as all the inner planets, combined. Perhaps it hasn't cleared its surrounding space of cosmic debris, but could Mercury, if it weren't so near the sun?
Let's leave our textbooks alone. We can always add easier than we can erase. I say we give Pluto a chance. It may be smaller than Luna, but it orbits Sol with the rest of the planets, and holds silent vigil over the Kuiper Belt with all the other ageless little iceballs.
I bet if it were made of diamond, they'd call it a planet again.
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