To the International Astronomical Union (Re: The Asteroid),
My esteemed colleagues, in 2018 a former student of mine (now a fine astronomer) discovered an M-type asteroid orbiting in the main belt between Mars and Jupiter and proposed naming it after me. The I.A.U. approved, and thus asteroid Carlhobbes was born. I was deeply honored by this tribute at the time. But given this week’s news that Carlhobbes has unexpectedly collided with a rogue comet, setting it on an unstoppable trajectory toward Earth, where, in seventy-six hours, it will end all life, I am writing to ask that you please change the name of this asteroid immediately.
Appreciatively,
Professor Carl Hobbes
Dear Professor Hobbes,
As you’re no doubt aware, for any newly discovered asteroid, a name is submitted to the I.A.U. by its discoverer, and is then approved or denied by a fifteen-person-committee vote—a lengthy process that, once completed, is final. As such, the asteroid’s name shall remain unchanged.
The International Astronomical Union
To the International Astronomical Union,
Please allow me to elaborate upon my request: Can you imagine what it feels like to wake up one morning and suddenly your name is universally synonymous with death? Today’s New York Times headline (“Carlhobbes Is Coming to Kill You!”) had an exclamation point. Have you ever seen an exclamation point in a New York Times headline? And the tabloids have been even less subtle. One published a photo of me, in bed, captioned, “The Grim Sleeper.” Suddenly everyone’s mad at me for sleeping. I was tired! Also, I’m not the damn asteroid! Right now, a large mob is gathered in my front yard, chanting profanities and pelting my house with trash. I’d like for my final days to be full of peaceful reflection and prayer. But that’s quite difficult with a menacing biker, perched atop his Harley, defecating into my mailbox (to huge applause).
Since the world is going to end either way, what difference could it make to pick a new name?
Professor Carl Hobbes
Dear Professor Hobbes,
“What difference,” indeed. We can’t, as they say, “put the toothpaste back in the tube.” (Or, in this case, the excrement back in the motorcycle enthusiast.) Moreover, renaming the asteroid now would only lead to similar complaints from any person/institution sharing its new name. We notice that you have yet to suggest an alternate name, presumably for exactly this reason.
The International Astronomical Union
To The International Astronomical Union,
Hitler. Call it Hitler. Or who was that cartoonish guy in the first “Star Wars” prequel? Jar Jar Binks! Just pick a name that everyone already hates. And hurry. Today, the mob (now led by a megaphone-wielding man named Joe Rogan, who I guess does a podcast?) dressed a dummy up in a tweed coat and bow tie—to match the author photo in my 2006 memoir, “Reach for the Stars”—duct-taped a telescope to its hand, and set it on fire.
My wife has relocated to our daughter’s house, insisting that I stay here to “go down with the ship.”
Professor Carl Hobbes
Dear Professor Hobbes,
In 1945, the Allied forces saved freedom and democracy by heroically defeating the Nazis. Can you imagine how those brave men and women would feel if the International Astronomical Union were to announce, “The world will end on Friday . . . because of Hitler”?
The International Astronomical Union
To the International Astronomical Union,
O.K., Hitler was just a placeholder and you know it. Let’s not make this about Hitler.
I’m well aware that NameTBD is twelve kilometres wide, larger than the asteroid that killed off the dinosaurs. Our fate is certain. But on the off, off chance that a small band of humans survives impact and rebuilds civilization, my name will live on forever in infamy. Please spare a humble old man—who has dedicated his life to education—this legacy of dishonor.
Professor Carl Hobbes
Dear Professor Hobbes,
“Humble old man”? Professor, we follow you on Instagram. And Twitter. And Facebook. Back in 2018, you had no problem whatsoever with an asteroid being named after you. You were all, “So, this happened . . . [link in bio to Astronomy magazine],” and, “So, the I.A.U. did a thing . . . [blushing emoji],” and, “Wish me happy bday, I just turned 4.6 billion!” It was months of that humble-brag crap. You even changed your profile pic to a photo of the asteroid! Frankly, Professor, if you’re going to make snow angels in the good press, you’ve got to endure the occasional avalanche of bad press. You can’t have one without the other.
The International Astronomical Union
To the International Astronomical Union,
Apologies if those posts came across badly. But I assure you—I was not then, nor am I now, seeking fame of any kind. I just want this to stop. Please.
Professor Carl Hobbes
Given the special circumstances, the I.A.U. is announcing its decision to rename the asteroid Destroyer, effective immediately.
The International Astronomical Union
To the International Astronomical Union,
Thank you. Truly. You have made these final hours more bearable, and that is a gift to me and my wife, who just moved back in! We’re going to die together, thanks to you. And to hell with that damn Destroyer! (Wow, it feels good to say that.)
Gratefully,
Professor Carl Hobbes
To the International Astronomical Union,
Hey, just wanted to circle back . . .
In light of this morning’s stunning news that the asteroid has miraculously veered off its apocalyptic path (“Destroyer Saves Earth!” —New York Times), thus sparing billions of lives, I am writing to ask that you reinstate the asteroid’s original name, Carlhobbes, which, in retrospect, probably never should’ve been changed.
I’ve cc’d my publicist, Liz—she’s got me on a pretty packed sched today, but can we all hop on a quick Zoom to chat about this miracle/branding opportunity ASAP?
Professor Carl Hobbes, author of the upcoming memoir, “Apocatunity: My Cosmic Journey from Goat to GOAT”
