Before I begin, I must update a previous item — the U.S. women’s World Cup winning team will indeed get its parade in New York City! It’s the first female sports team to receive such an honor. And it’s well deserved.
Why stop there? Let’s put Alex Morgan on the $10 bill. Screw Susan B. Anthony or Harriet Tubman.
For one day, it won’t be Manhattan. It’ll be Womanhattan.
But now let’s move on to another topic a little further away from New York, and from planet Earth altogether. In one week, mankind will get a glimpse of one of the last mysteries of outer space that we actually know about — Pluto.
The former ninth planet from the sun has had an interesting history. It was discovered in 1930, not by an astronomer, but by a low-level assistant at the Lowell Observatory in Arizona named Clyde Tombaugh. First called Planet X, it was soon recognized as Pluto, our solar system’s ninth planet.
And on July 14, a probe launched from the U.S. nine years ago will fly past Pluto and take the first ever close-up photos of it in history.
To the non-scientist, the prospect of it is a lot more exciting than the results. Because it will just be pictures of a shitload of rocks and ice. But the thought that a probe — called the New Horizons — floated perfectly on course for nine years from Earth to Pluto is pretty neat. Almost as neat as a solar-powered backpack that doubles as a phone charger.
C’mon, that’s pretty damn neat.
In a way, it’s a little sad. We’ve always known about Pluto’s existence, whether as an actual planet or a dwarf planet. But it’s been logged in our minds as this far away, distant rock that set the boundary for what we do know exists in outer space, and what we don’t.
It’s almost like getting to see what God looks like.
Sometimes leaving things to the imagination is better than seeing the real thing. Remember when we saw pictures of Mars three years ago? It was just dust and craters. You might as well have showed me a picture of a Saudi Arabian desert and I wouldn’t have known the difference.
I want my perception of planets to be what I saw in picture books when I was a kid. Everything l know about outer space, I learned from The Magic School Bus, and I want to keep it that way.
Pluto was always the last one on the map. The smallest. The introvert that stood out from the rest. In a way, Pluto was us.
I don’t need to know what it looks like. Is it cool as shit that we not only have the capability to do it, but managed to pull it off? Hell yeah. But where’s the mystery after this? We know there’s more out there, but we probably won’t see it in this lifetime.
Actually, the better question is, if we have the capability to send large objects to Pluto, then why don’t we send Donald Trump there?