Goodbye Planet Pluto

This is an email I got on the USM Listserve from Edward Gleason. He writes the best emails to a list serve ever. Not only do I learn something, but I laugh all the way to the moon and back. I had to share this one!

From the USM Southworth Insanitarium
"Mental hygiene is woefully overrated"


THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT E-MAIL YOU'LL RECEIVE ALL YEAR!!

We have been inundated by a deluge (as opposed to being inundated by a
trickle) of e-mails about two planets, Mars and Pluto.

OH, OOPS!!! I meant to write that we've received numerous e-mails
about one planet, Mars, and also about Pluto, which, as it turns out, is
not a planet at all, but has instead been classified by the
International Astronomical Union as a glorified frozen grapefruit.

But first, to Mars.

Although this assertion will be nearly impossible to believe, sometimes
the Internet can convey incorrect information...
Mars will NOT be at its closest distance to Earth on August 27, 2006.
Moreover, it will NOT appear to be as large as the full Moon.

First of all, Mars was at its closest distance to Earth in 60,000 years
on August 27, 2003. This was the Mars close approach that we hyped
beyond all proportion in an effort to make a profit that we hardly
deserved. And, believe me, if this were to happen this year, we'd be
hyping the event without relent again. (We'd be asking for volunteers
to wear Mars-shaped head gear and dance on
Forest Avenue)

Alas, Mars will be quite far away on August 27 and will hardly be
visible.

Secondly, if you ever look out your window and discover that Mars looks
as large as the Full Moon, the best thing to do is kneel down and pray
to something because our planet is about to take Mars right in the
thorax. Even at its closest approach, Mars looked basically like a
bright red star.



And now, to the
once-was-a-planet-and-now-is-well-we'll-think-of-that-when-the-pubs-open-again-
Pluto.

The International Astronomical Union has been gathered in Prague this
month to settle a few tricky matters. (1) Best colours for the new
robes (2) What to do about that troublesome Harry Potter and (3) Should
Pluto remain a planet.

Considering that the third question -the definition of Pluto- is the
most pressing issue confronting humanity today, the IAU decided to
concentrate their non-tavern hours on it. Initially, somebody proposed
an increase of the planets from 9 to 12. The three extra planets would
have been Ceres, a asteroid about the size of Texas; Charon, the one
satellite of Pluto; and Xena, a distant body found beyond the orbit of
Pluto. Very little is known about this body Xena apart from the back
that it is scantily-clad, speaks with a accent, and is violent at the
slightest provocation.

This idea was scraped because it seemed to be far too lax in its
definition. For instance, if Ceres, which is the size of Texas, could
be a planet then why couldn't, um, we dislodge California from Earth and
classify it as a planet? (Having California as its own planet certainly
would explain a lot.)

Well, finally, the International Astronomical Union opted to reduce
rather than expand....so now we have eight planets in our solar system.

MERCURY, VENUS, EARTH, MARS, JUPITER, SATURN, URANUS, NEPTUNE

Soon, we'll perform a ceremony in which we dispense with all the Pluto
as a Planet Propaganda that we've been pushing on children for years.
Join us later one as we toss it all out into the highway....along, by
the way, with all our Red Sox stuff!
GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!

-Edward Gleason


check out this part 2: to the email


Well, you see, the dirty little secret of this whole thing is that,
well, we're all really embarrassed by odd little Pluto. None of us
want it in our family. Think of Pluto as being like freaky Uncle
Frank: the one who makes armpit noises for horror-struck prom dates,
tells jokes that could make the upholstery melt and who plays "Yes, We
have No Bananas" on his nose flute at the slightest urging (and in spite
of the ardent pleas of those who'd rather rip their ears off than hear
it again)

So, basically, Pluto is Uncle Frank and finally, after his latest
antics of belting out "Achy-Breaky Heart" at jet-engine volume during
little Melissa's 6th birthday party, is being brought with great haste
down into the fruit cellar.

So, at this very moment, you can hear Pluto's slightly intoxicated and
plaintive cries of "What do you mean I can't sing my song?!" as the
cellar door slams shut with a resounding bang.