Pin the Name on the Planet

For almost a century, we have been existing under a false cosmic pretense. Living a lie. Harboring an illusion that we are twiddling about on one of NINE planets in our solar system.

We were comforted by our knowledge, our certainty, that our place as 3rd of 9 was not subject to reversal or revisionism.

Wrong. Sorry about that.

As it turns out, we are not one of nine but rather one of TEN rocks from the sun. And this changes everything.

I was promised that Pluto was it. If I needed to wax philosophic about how far from the mall my distant parking spot was, I would say, “Dude—my car is on freaking Pluto.”

Wrong. Please try again later.

We now have an object larger than Pluto that is WAY out there. Seriously out there. Almost 100-times-further-away-from-the-sun-as-us out there. Even Tom Cruise, on his astral projection trips where aliens reveal to him the evils of pharmaceuticals ... even Tom does not get that out there.

The discoverers eagerly await the judgment of the International Astronomical Union about this object. Then, and only then, will they reveal the name they have chosen to honor their find.

Sure, the smart money is on some obscure Roman god—but here are some alternative monikers for our “new” neighbor:

1. “Mordechai.” Israel seems serious this time about getting out of Gaza—and maybe even the West Bank. If the Israelis pull that off without having right-wing settlers blow the whole place up, we should at least give them a comfortably named planet. Before they decide to occupy parts of any another bordering countries.

2. “Wombat.” Let’s throw our Aussie friends a bone. I mean, they have a continent all to themselves, no powerful neighbors, and yet they STILL have never colonized a single neighbor. They deserve a celestial reward. And for Supreme Ruler of Wombat I nominate Colin Hay from Men At Work—is not the “Down Under” video enough to prove this buggy-eyed freak belongs on another planet?

3. “X.” I have always been a fan of simplicity. Whether we see X as a letter or a number—which would pay homage to the Romans after all—this is a small planet, worthy of only a small name. It also wouldn’t cost an arm and a leg to revise all our textbooks by adding an X. Best of all, we can make it a penal colony for anyone associated with the letter, letting us flush planetary waste like Hugh Jackman (X-Men) and Vin Diesel (XXX).

You know, I’m sick of waiting. What does this International Astronomical Union think it is, anyway—the US Senate? What kind of an institution takes this kind of time to debate and deliberate and thoughtfully consider important issues?

I’m making a recess appointment. Meet our tenth planet. I name you “Mean Mr. Mustache.”