Category Archives: humour

From Ursula le Guin

Half an hour or so ago I read a tweet on Twitter from someone wondering why he, in Britain, was receiving emails about events in an American university. “Don’t they realise that I live on a different continent?”

One possiblility, I suppose, is that someone got confused about what .uk at the end of an email address stands for. Believe it or not, I heard a while back of people who genuinely thought that it meant University of Kentucky. It stands, of course, for United Kingdom. It’s quite startling to hear your country confused with a university.

Whatever the reason for the emails, it set off a train of thought about the insularity that seems to be springing up as a reaction to the “recession”, “economic downturn”, “credit crunch” or whatever term or euphemism you care to use for it.

And that reminded me of this section of Ursula le Guin’s story “The Royals of Hegn” in Changing Planes. It describes a society where virtually the entire population is a member of the royal family. Their knowledge of the outside world is somewhat limited.

There are 817 kings in Hegn. Each has title to certain lands, or palaces; but actual rule or dominion over a region isn’t what makes a king a king. What matters is having the crown and wearing it on certain occasions, such as the coronation of another king, and having one’s lineage recorded unquestionably in the Book of the Blood, and edging the sod at the annual Blessing of the Fish, and knowing that one’s wife is the queen and one’s eldest son is the crown prince and one’s brother is the prince royal and one’s sister is the princess royal and all one’s relations and all their children are of the blood royal. [ . . . ]

Such questions are not of interest to everyone, and the placid fanaticism with which the Hegnish pursue them bores or offends many visitors to their plane. The fact that the Hegnish have absolutely no interest in any people except themselves can also cause offense, or even rage. Foreigners exist. That is all the Hegnish know about them, and all they care to know. They are too polite to say that it is a pity that foreigners exist, but if they had to think about it, they would think so.

They do not, however, have to think about foreigners. That is taken care of for them.

The worrying thing is, I think there might be a little bit of the Hegnish in all of us . . .

Plutonymics

An exercise in astrolexicography

Plutoids and plutinos . . .

When the former planet Pluto was demoted to the status of “dwarf planet” fairly recently, two new words were defined by the International Astronomical Union: plutoid and plutino. If you ask me, these would be damn good words whatever they meant: they belong to that group of words which seem to exist as much because they’re fun to say as because they’re needed.

Several weeks ago one of my contacts on Twitter, @Exoplanetology, came up with the word exoplutoid, meaning a plutoid in a planetary system other than our own.

Should you wish to know, a plutino is an object which, like Pluto, orbits the Sun twice for every three orbits made by Neptune. (This is called a 2:3 resonance, and the object remains trapped in that orbit.) A plutoid, roughly speaking, is simply a dwarf planet which orbits the Sun further out than Neptune does.

I suppose an exoplutoid might be a dwarf planet in another star system, further from its star than the last convincing planet.

Nice words. Are there more?

Plutonyms in the dictionary

Let’s proceed with caution. A look at the dictionary reveals that a number of pluto- words already exist. Furthermore, not all of them are anything to do with Pluto. Plutocrats, being plutocratic in a plutocracy, get their name from the Greek word ploutos, which means wealth.

In geology, plutonic relates to rocks which have solidified from a molten state at the fiery depths associated with the god Pluto and his underworld, and a pluton is a “body of instrusive igneous rock”. Geology also uses the word plutonism in this connection.

In chemistry, the element plutonium has nothing to do with plutonism; the elements uranium, neptunium and plutonium take their names (rather nicely) from Uranus, and Neptune and Pluto, which were all planets at the time.

Plutogenous neologisms

Given the existence of all these words already, are we to conclude that Pluto has contributed all it can to the English language? I think not!

There are still plenty of Pluto-related situation requiring words. Some of the situations are more “serious” than others. But all need words, and it is my pleasure to present them to you. They are grouped by function rather than alphabetically. Use and enjoy.

plutaceous:
similar in material or structure to Pluto.
exoplutoid, exoplutino:
a body in another planetary system analogous to a plutoid or plutino in ours.
plutogenous:
originating from, or generated or caused by, Pluto and its status. For example, plutogenous fisticuffs might result from a heated discussion about its classification. See plutonym, below.
plutectomy:
removal of Pluto or a Pluto-like object, e.g. from a list of recognised planets or (as a more advanced engineering project) from a planetery system
plutogenic:
relating to the creation of Pluto-like objects, i.e. to plutogenesis.

plutonym:
a word created with reference to Pluto and its status; that is, one which enters the language as a plutogenous neologism.
plutonymics:
the study of plutonyms.
plutolexicography:
the creation of a dictionary or glossary of plutonyms
plutamnesia:
an inability to remember what Pluto is officially classified as these days.
plutamnesic:
suffering from or relating to plutamnesia.
plutamnesiac:
someone who suffers from plutamnesia.
paraplutosis:
1. condition of accidentally using the wrong plutonym, e.g. calling a plutoid a plutino or describing plutogenous situation as plutogenic. The corresponding adjective is paraplutotic.
2. erroneous identification of an object as Pluto.

Got any more? Post them here and I’ll do the plutolexicographer’s job of gathering them together, time and energy permitting. Especially if they’re good.

Some science humour

I’ve not been able to update this blog for a while and now I’ve only got a short session in the library, so I thought I’d begin with something I can post quickly. Here are some science-related pages which I think are quite fun…

General

  • How to Write a Scientific Paper: very funny article by E Robert Schulman in The Annals of Improbable Research, 1996. Possibly explains why so many papers read the way they do… and practises all its advice on the spot. [Note: I successfully accessed this the other day, but at the time of writing it is for some reason unavailable. I hope it comes back, because it really is brilliant!)

Apples and Oranges

In arguments, it’s traditional to accuse someone of “comparing apples with oranges”, as though it were impossible. A few scientists have pointed out that it’s actually quite easy to compare apples with oranges, and even written papers on it:

  • Apples and Oranges: A Comparison: Short article by Scott A Sandford, originally published in The Annals of Improbable Research, 1995.
  • Comparing apples and oranges: a randomised prospective study: A more impressively written up paper by James E Barone in the British Medical Journal, 2000. However, the claim to have analysed results using FudgeStat software from “Hypercrunch Corporation” raises my suspicions that the research may not be entirely authentic.

Well I’m out of time already, so the rest will have to follow, along with various other things I have in the pipeline…