Dear brothers and sisters,

If ever there was a time to rally for a cause, now is it. It has been approximately two months since Pluto was relieved of its duty as ninth planet from the sun. Apparently, the one-time fan favorite no longer meets certain standards recently agreed upon by the International Astronomical Union, enumerating him among the ranks of Gary Coleman, Tony Danza and general democracy.

So that’s it. Pluto is out. They took away his parking pass and asked him to relinquish his member’s jacket. It was pretty embarrassing. He was escorted to the lobby, right before the weekend, just in case he was compelled to pull an Ursula Major and shoot up the place.

Several have introduced conspiracy theories as possible explanations for Pluto’s humiliating downgrade. Some say the Middle East no longer presents itself as the same empty threat for Republicans, so they drafted a new tentatively titled “War on Irrelevant Objects,” with Pluto being Public Enemy No. 1.

The House is expected to formally declare war on toaster strudel next week.

Some argue that the seemingly purposelessness and definite inconsequence of this scientific-community-shattering amendment is a direct attack on the Disney conglomerate, citing the common knowledge of science’s interminable antipathy of Mickey Mouse.

Actually, the reasons for giving Pluto the cold shoulder (PUN INTENDED) are not as nefarious as they are incredibly lame. Essentially, it was either give Pluto the axe, or let 50 other pieces of frozen rock into the clubhouse. And we all know how exclusive the clubhouse is. It is very exclusive. I tried to get in once, figuring that muscling my way through a couple of tiddlywinks with lab coats would be as effortless as underwater chess, but apparently scientists can afford bodyguards. Duly noted.

So instead, Pluto has been installed into the less storied collection of dwarf planets. He is ironically accompanied by a larger dwarf, nicknamed Xena. Xena possesses one moon, nicknamed Gabrielle. Both are characters from the eponymous action-adventure series. People always speculated Xena and Gabrielle were lesbian lovers. At least now we know that such speculation is, in fact, absolutely true.

Yet, oddly enough, such revelation does not console Goofy. The singularly and speciously anthropomorphized canine of the Disney sphere who, consumed by guilt for years of enjoying pants and linguistic capacity, is presumed to have expatriated to Mexico, where he consumes inordinate amounts of tequila blanco during the day and operates a professional cock fight circuit at night, which is legal in Mexico. Also legal in Mexico is public urination. I made that up.

No, instead of going to the trouble of ordering a couple more membership cards, this cadre of “intellectuals” at the “IAU” decided amongst themselves that they would simply “reinvent” the “standards” that “govern” the “criteria” “for” “planetary” “status” “.”

Curious though it may be that seemingly fundamental scientific doctrine is so easily and unabashedly stricken forever from the pantheon of third grade science fair dioramas, consider the alternative. If the IAU didn’t arbitrarily annihilate 76 years of childhood nomenclature and witty mnemonic devices, can you imagine the carnage our existence would be stricken with?

The inexplicable devastation which would undeniably be wrought upon the human condition alone if Pluto was allowed to carry on its Mephistophelian masquerade as a planet is just beyond explanation.

Can you imagine the money which would have been saved if this truth had not been forced to the forefront of international attention and minor social concern, and billions of new textbooks didn’t have be printed?

Now, my educated readership, riddle me this: what if Pluto decides he’s not going to take such abuse at the hands of a bunch of chemistry set, whining, most likely glasses-wearing rubes whose idea of social contribution is taking pictures of the shiny things in the sky?

When Pluto collides with Earth in a scenario at least 2 1/2 times worse than that Bruce Willis movie (you know, where he’s a mob hitman-turned-informant/cab driver in the future but he doesn’t know he’s dead and only Julia Roberts can see him), what then? Is the scientific community going to stand by its unshakable morals and capricious planetary standard overhaul then?

Dubious.

Until Pluto wreaks his revenge upon his erstwhile compatriots, or makes his glorious comeback on reality TV, I hear the AV Club is accepting new members.

Max Lakin is a junior English and rhetoric major. He is similarly not a planet.