This entry isn’t dated, but since it’s the only one between September 15th and September 17th, I can only assume it’s from today (minus 18 years). Maybe my enthusiasm for space had something to do with the prior day’s trip to Mysteries of Science, or just that little boys like space (and dinosaurs).
Aside from its striking resemblance to
zombo.com, my solar system is
fairly accurate. All nine planets are depicted in glorious, hamfisted-Crayola
detail, as are Earth’s moon and Saturn’s
hula-hoop rings. On the
other hand, there’s no sun. Or maybe one of the big yellow dots is the sun,
and I forgot about Neptune or Uranus. As is the case when interpreting great
artwork, it’s sometimes difficult to determine the artist’s original intent!
I’m sure hordes of astrophysicists have now gathered with pitchforks to dispute my claim of “accuracy”, but before y’all start flowing into the streets – I know, I know, this entire post is a lie. The solar system has EIGHT planets, ever since Pluto was deprecated in 2006. That’s the problem with science: It just keeps rolling along, regardless of how many people it retroactively converts into flat-earthers. If I had been six in 1892 (and I wasn’t working in a factory), I’m sure this journal would be full of posts like, “I had a head ache last night so my mom gave me some cocaine and I feeled better.”
Then again, my six-year-old’s knowledge of celestial bodies far surpassed that of the greatest philosophers and scientists of antiquity, so, uh, take that, Ptolemy.