The Tragedy of Pluto

Pluto is once again in the news, as the on-going dispute over whether it is truly the ninth planet or merely a largish chunk of the Kuiper Belt rears its ugly head. If humanity cannot agree on how many planets comprise the solar system, is it any wonder that Mideast peace eludes us?

This galactic dispute always makes me think of Pluto, the lonliest of the Disney characters. Pluto is clearly the most tragic figure in the world of cartoons, much more so than the Sisyphean Wile E. Coyote. Pluto draws his definition of self only in relation to a more powerful figure, the titular Mickey Mouse, towering patriarch of the Disney universe. This is known, of course, as the Gumby-Pokey paradigm.

But the cherry on top of Pluto's hot fudge sundae of humiliation is that while he is Mickey's pet dog, owned and beholden to his "master" (antebellum American slavery reference very intended), the Mouse can often be found cavorting with his chum, Goofy, a talking dog. Goofy is clearly a more assimilated hound; while he resembles Pluto in many respects, he also girds himself in pants and a vest (space restraints preclude a closer examination of the question of Goofy's genitalia). By virtue of his verbal accuity and apparently opposable thumbs (how else would he button the vest?), Goofy is allowed to enter into anthropomorphized society along with Minnie, Donald and, in all probability, Tigger, while Pluto remains a muted outcast, a marginalized second banana. Despair.