The International Astronomical Union (2,500 astronomers strong) is meeting this week in the Czech Republic to decide whether or not Pluto deserves to be called a planet, and whether or not big masses further out in the solar system ought to also be called planets; or whether we should have stopped at Neptune and told the rest of our Sun’s entourage to go fuck themselves.

It’s a toughy.  Depose Pluto, or expand the aristocracy?  For astronomers, this may be the biggest controversy since the whole “Sun orbiting the Earth” fiasco. But for a large portion of the general public this is a colossal waste of time, and most people really just want space to get fun again.

Listen, Astronomy, we need to have a little talk.  I know things started out great, and this has been a really exciting five hundred years.  With the onset of modern physics and advanced telescope and camera technology, you’re learning new things about the universe all the time.  But you’re losing a big chunk of your audience with all this bickering about definitions crap.  City council meetings are for arguing about zoning restrictions, and people don’t go to those.  They’re not going to care any more about astronomy’s equivalent.

Astronomy, the public doesn’t want you to tell them what a planet is.  They want you to tell them where the planet with the six-breasted babes riding on giant lizards is.

No, damnit, I mean this, it’s really in your best interest to make astronomy weird and exciting again.  There’s a whole infinite universe out there, and there are bound to be some fun things in it.  Think about all the freaky shit that exists on Earth alone!  Are you really going to tell me that there won’t be infinitely more cool things to find if you multiply the number of places to look for it?  No one cares about the exact definition of a planet except for the people who will get famous for discovering them. There aren’t any tax breaks or trade restrictions for masses that achieve planetary status. A lump of icy rock is a fucking lump of icy rock, no matter how big it is.  But a lump of vegetative rock with a civilization of Wookies on it?  That’s money in the bank and pizza at your doorstep, my friends.  That’s Nobel material.

More than just audience power may be at stake, however, as a Revised Planetary Zoning Standard (RPZS) could, depending on its statutes, pave the way for a whole lot of other cold rocks to become official planets; especially out in the Kuiper Belt, which is only beginning to be explored. Humanity may be apathetic to the fate of Pluto, but what if they’re suddenly told that there are fifty more planets out there to consider?  Will any of them have any cheesy alien monoliths? How will elementary school teachers come up with mnemonic devices to remember them all?  Will there be enough Roman gods to go around? Hell, the Moon is bigger than Pluto, what if the Moon became an official planet?  Would we finally have to give it a name and a decent wage? And let’s not forget the community of astrologers, who will now need to revise all of their books.  The astrologers are going to be pissed.