In Defense of Pluto

Image via NASA

In August 2006, the International Astronomical Union (IAU) stripped Pluto of its title of the Solar System’s ninth planet. Pluto would henceforth be classified as a “dwarf planet” because it had not cleared the neighborhood around its orbit. In other words, the IAU punished the King of the Dead for being too lazy to pick up after himself.

Seriously, though. It’s old news. The astronomy community has moved on and the idea of the Solar System having only eight planets has slowly caught on. It doesn’t change the fact that Pluto is still out there and that it bears study. The New Horizons space probe is supposed to start snapping pictures any day now. We’ll get some stunning images. Perhaps we’ll be able to count his icy wrinkles and peer up his frost-rimed nose.

I’d written “In Defense of Pluto” after I learned that Pluto no longer measured up to Olympian standards (or the IAU’s, depending upon whom you ask). While I understood the wisdom of the overthrow, I still believed he deserved a proper defense.

IN DEFENSE OF PLUTO
by Kurt MacPhearson

You’ve called him rogue
a miser and a trickster
and though I agree he’s done
some reprehensible things
if anyone is a product of his environment
then surely this twisted old ragamuffin
can’t be blamed for snatching up a young woman
he spied picking flowers
then trapping her in his dark abode
with the offer of fruit

Decades now you’ve watched him
out there, bothering no one
while you debated his status
then finally exiled him
to the asteroid-filled fringe
without allowing for so much
as a mumbled plea
for a chance to reform

Is the boatman
now to play jailor
or just some astronomical oddity
left him for mute company?

As much as you’re ready
to remind us of the severity
of his crime
you should take into account
that Pluto’s proximation
is due to the lot he drew
when sharing the world
with his two mighty brothers
whose own crimes are innumerable
yet by sheer magnitude
and illumination
go paradoxically ignored
as you recite with tongue-in-cheek fondness
the mischief the ancients could conjure
while gazing with wonder
upon their gassy
moon-flecked eminence

Perhaps your disdain
for Pluto’s existence
comes from relative size
in a system shrinking
with our telescoping reach
or could it be
that if you look deep inside
your pitiless, scientific heart
there lies
an unspoken, irrational fear
for the King of the Dead
lurking in your perfect heavens

Originally appeared in Tales of the Tailsman 7.1