[Originally posted February 2011]

I’ll admit, I’m still not over the Pluto thing.  I know it’s been a few of years now, but how the hell do I go through 30 years of understanding that Pluto is part of the solar system, then one day, some jerkoff scientists decided that it’s not.  What sorta bullshit is that?  I guaraneffintee you it’s the same jerkoff scientists who messed with the Zodiac constellations.  Now, if I was a 23 year-old chick who relied on Cosmo as a life guide, I might actually give a shit that the Zodiac constellations changed around.  But since I’m not and I don’t, naturally I don’t give a shit.  I’m supposed to be a Leo.  Nothing makes me happier than not knowing what the hell it means to be a Leo.  Other than the Leo is a lion, and lions are bad ass.  Beats being a pussy Pisces fish.

But that’s just one of many things that have fucked with my head recently, to the point that I’m forced to question pretty much everything these days.   How do I trust anything anymore?  Hell, even the theory about the basis of life is thrown right out the window.  Today, NASA discovers arsenic-based organisms.  Tomorrow, it’s xenomorphs with a second mouth and acid for blood.

And as if that’s not bad enough, now I’ve got my kids fucking with my head, too.  Here’s the thing, I’ve got a younger kid who’s really taken to dinosaurs of late.  A fondness I’m only to happy to promote in this household because I have had it up to my eyeballs with Thomas The Tank Engine.  Don’t get me wrong, this Thomas thing has been good for my kids.  For all the shit kid shows that are out there, they’ve actually gained some useful skills out this program.  But I’ve had enough with these trains with faces.  Enough with how every new movie is a 60-minute commercial for the three or four new trains this kid will pine for (leave that to the pros at Hasbro, please).  Enough with the 200 trains that litter the entire playroom each fucking day.  It’s time to move the fuck on.

And I was thrilled when he migrated his attention to that of dinosaurs.  I can get behind dinosaurs.  Big fuck-off monsters.  A kid-friendly way to one day break them into the world of Godzilla, Aliens, and whatever the hell is going to be star of Battle: Los Angeles (that movie looks kick ass).  Dinosaurs are a bad-ass thing to get into.

That is, until I realized that these fucking scientists are now fucking with everything I thought I knew about dinosaurs.  Forget me teaching the kids cool things about dinosaurs.  Turns out that most of what I thought I knew is  now considered bullshit.  Apparently, my elementary school teacher was a big fat liar.  And so’s Steven Spielberg.  Because this is a picture of a velociraptor my kids showed me:

Feathered velociraptor

With fucking feathers!!!  Gone is the terrifying green slithery vicious dinosaur we all saw in Jurassic Park.  Now, we got an oversized peacock.  Actually, scratch that.  It’s not even oversized.  In Spielberg’s movie – which is likely where most of us even heard of a velociraptor in the first place – these fucking things were bigger than a kangaroo.  Now my kids tell me that they were about the size of chocolate lab.  WTF?!  Suddenly, I’m no longer terrified of this thing.  I was taught that these velociraptors were massive killing machines.  Now, I’m told they’re colorful chickens, possibly with a shitty attitude.

And it’s one thing to fuck with my perceptions of a velociraptor.  But these fucking paleontologists didn’t stop there.  The cover of the big dinosaur book I bought my kids looked like this:

Feathered T-Rex

They’ve made the T-Rex look like a member of the Village People.  Or Lady Gaga.  WTF, scientist, WTF.  Here I was, all thrilled that my kids were about to get into one of the few things I knew about, and I could teach them cool shit, and here I come to a screeching halt because everything I thought I knew is now out the fucking window.   Scientists are such assholes.  Every couple of years they change their minds about certain subjects, throwing everything we know into disarray, making us question everything, just so they can remain relevant, and baffle us with new shit that they conjure up while getting insanely high on bath salts.

Bastards.  Now I’m afraid to leave the house.