Listen to this episode and find out more about the topics therein at theallusionist.org/uranus
This is the Allusionist, in which I, Helen Zaltzman, fly language to the moon and language play among the stars, then call language in because it’s dinner time.
Today we’re going on a journey to space without taking a single step.
Content note: there are mentions of Ancient Greek and Roman deities and their terrible sexual behaviours and violent vengeance. Also brace yourself for one category B swear and one category C swear: the kinds of swears you might encounter in a fairly mainstream sitcom; or that you might use with your colleagues about your boss, but not to your boss.
Before that: now would be a great time to sign up to join the Allusioverse - go to theallusionist.org/donate and for as little as two American dollars per month, you support this independent podcast during these current precarious times for media and entertainment, independent and not, and you get fortnightly livestreams which include soothing dictionary readings, and the company of your fellow allusionauts in the lively and nurturing Allusioverse Discord community, AND in a limited time offer, you can submit words and phrases that you would like me to record for you to use as your phone text tone or alarm or doorbell or little message of affirmation. Sign up to the Allusioverse at theallusionist.org/donate by 31 August 2023 to get your choice of me shouting you awake in the morning.
On with the show.
Have you ever wondered why the planets in our solar system are all named after Roman deities, except two of them?
One of those exceptions is Earth, which means, well, earth, and it doesn’t fit the system because it wasn’t formally discovered by humans, it was where they already were, so when they started identifying planets thousands of years ago, they hadn’t yet counted Earth as one.
And the other exception is Uranus.
So let’s go through them in turn: Mercury, amed after the Ancient Roman speedy messenger god, because it looks like it’s moving quickly, it orbits the Sun in just 88 Earth days.
Next is Venus, the brightest planet, so they named it after the Roman goddess of love.
Then there’s Earth, named after that thing we’re sitting on.
Then Mars, because it’s red, and red is ANGRY, like the god of war Mars.
Then dad of Mars Jupiter, and Jupiter’s the biggest planet in the solar system so they thought it fitting to name it after the king of the gods.
And then Saturn, dad of Jupiter, then Uranus - more on him anon - then Neptune, which was bluish so named after the god of the sea, and Pluto was named after the god of the underworld in 1930 by English 11-year-old Venetia Burnley, whose grandad knew someone who knew someone in the planet biz. Pluto was named the year before the Disney dog of same name. I don’t even want to get into whether Pluto counts as a planet or not, because I want to talk about Uranus.
Do you pronounce it UrAnus? Or UR-inus? Because I was raised on UrAnus, then in the 1990s it seemed like people were really trying to get UR-inus to take off but Uranus seems to have prevailed.
Uranus is a pretty cool planet - well it’s a pretty cold planet, coldest in the solar system. It’s the only planet to roll like a ball, rather than spin around.
Scientists think that on Uranus it rains diamonds, huge diamonds, millions of carats, bigger than bears. (Bears is the unit of measurement on Uranus.)
Uranus has at least 13 rings. And at least 27 moons.
Uranus is 4x wider than Earth.
Uranus is very windy, up to 900km/hour.
Uranus means the "rainmaker", from a root word that means rain or moisture and crops up in the Sanskrit for “rain” and the Greek for ‘urine’.
Uranus has got a lot going for it really. But its name is a bit tricky.
Song For Uranus
This is a song for Uranus,
Pronouncing it is dangerous.
Some say urINous, is that better?
Or does it just sound wetter?
He’s the god of rain, not the god of piss;
Why does everyone take the mickey?
No other planets endure this,
Being a bumhole or a wizz.
HZ: Although, Uranus is a ringed planet covered in methane and ammonia, so it does really lend itself to bumhole and wizz. Sorry.
Uranus was the first planet discovered with a telescope, too far for the naked eye to tell that that it’s a planet not a star.
Astronomer William Herschel is credited with discovering Uranus in 1781. Other people had noticed Uranus before, quite a lot of them actually, over the previous 2000 years, but it’s William Herschel who gets the credit, somehow? Even though he thought it was a comet.
WILLIAM HERSCHEL: Oh look, a comet!
HZ: And he wrote about it to fellow astronomer Nevil Maskelyne, who said:
NEVIL MASKELYNE: Do you see a TAIL on it, William? No! If it’s orbiting the sun - like a planet and doesn’t have a tail like a planet, it’s probably a planet!
HZ: Nevertheless, Herschel was like:
WILLIAM HERSCHEL: “Nah, comet comet comet COMET.”
HZ: But other astronomers carried on studying this planet like it was a planet, so a couple of years later, Herschel was like,
WILLIAM HERSCHEL: “Ok fine, it’s a planet.”
HZ: William Herschel wanted to name it ‘George’s star’, after George III, King of Great Britain and Ireland. Who’s already a king - there’s loads of stuff named after him - and ‘star’ is not even accurate for a planet - Herschel really was not doing his best work, was he? Although he did supposedly coin the term ‘asteroid’.
Why was Herschel so hot for King George III, when he hadn’t even seen Hamilton? Well, he wanted to name it after his boss! King George had appointed William Herschel court astronomer, and offered him two hundred pounds a year to relocate to the town of Windsor so the king could look through the telescopes whenever he wants.
That is the equivalent of modern-day £24,000 a year to uproot your whole life to be the King’s 24/7 telescope bitch. What an offer!
KING GEORGE III: I’ll give you less than the modern equivalent of the average national salary in Britain to move to where I am, live in my orbit, and you let me use your telescopes whenever I want. You are welcome. For I am the Sun.
WILLIAM HERSCHEL: You are the sun.
KING GEORGE III: And you are the Earth - no wait, I wanna be Earth. I am the Earth.
WILLIAM HERSCHEL: You are the Earth.
KING GEORGE III: And you are the Moon - no wait, I wanna be the Moon, it’s so shiny.
WILLIAM HERSCHEL: FINE, you are the Moon.
KING GEORGE III: I am the Moon - and the Earth and the Sun.
And you are a speck of dust, orbiting me.
Give me your telescopes.
WILLIAM HERSCHEL: All my telescopes?
KING GEORGE III: Yes. Cos I want them!
WILLIAM HERSCHEL: But you’re rich enough to buy your own telescopes!
KING GEORGE III: That’s not the point!
WILLIAM HERSCHEL: That is never the point.
HZ: That is never the point.
Other astronomers thought - rightly - that naming a planet after King George III was a bit Anglocentric - gosh really? It’s already pretty Eurocentric that the planet names are mostly Roman deities, and a lot of other cultures, not all but a lot, just translated them into their languages.
Eventually the astronomer Johann Bode suggested to name the planet ‘Uranus’, because planet naming is a dynasty for the planets further from the Sun than Earth: there’s Mars, then Mars’s dad Jupiter, then Jupiter’s dad Saturn, then Saturn’s dad is Caelus, why did Bode not go for Caelus? Because he is giving us this gift?
He opted for the Ancient Greek equivalent of Saturn’s father, whose name was Ouranos, and it got Latinised as Uranus.
So who would be next in this system - who’s Uranus’s parent? Supposedly Gaia, who is Earth, which messes up the planet family order because Earth is already taken way up the solar system. Uranus also had children with Gaia, so it’s really just best not to keep looking into that family tree.
HZ: This is a song for Uranus.
For a long time it was nameless.
George’s Star, ugh, no thank you!
Don’t just name it after your boss, you sycophant you.
Other astronomers suggested
naming it Herschel - he doesn’t deserve it.
NEVIL MASKELYNE: Comet wanker!
HZ: But no, it’s Ouranos,
big daddy of the Greek gods.
Uranus had a complicated family life. The Greek gods so often seemed to have incredibly toxic relationships. And he was a really shit dad. Uranus was an absolute arsehole.
Every night, the sky, which was of course him, would cover the Earth, which was Gaia. ‘Cover’ means sextimes for ancient gods. They had a lot of children together - heaps, at least eighteen - including three Cyclopses, twelve Titans, and three Hecatoncheires - who were giants with one hundred hands each.
But Uranus hated all of his children. Every time Gaia birthed another child, Uranus would take the child and hide them somewhere. Mate, a lot of people don’t enjoy spending time with their own children, but that’s one of the risks you’re signing up for by having them!
After eighteen children, Gaia finally got terminally pissed off at Uranus. She made a sharp sickle out of adamantine and gave it to her sons and asked them to go and castrate their dad. Those poor kids - their mother, who is also their grandmother, asks them to maim their absentee father.
The ancient Greek gods haven’t had as much traction with worshippers during the last couple of millennia, and hopefully it’s because they’re all off having therapy.
Only one of Gaia’s children was willing to do it, the youngest Titan, Cronus. He castrated Uranus, and threw the testicles into the sea.
And guess what! Uranus’s blood and amputated testicles begat yet more children!
From the testicles came forth Ourania Aphrodite, and from the blood were born the Giants, the ash-tree Nymphs, and the Furies - the goddesses of vengeance.
Uranus didn’t come down to Earth any more after that, if you’re ever wondering how the sky and the Earth broke up.
This is a song for Uranus.
His story is outrageous:
by his son he was castrated,
testicles defenestrated
into the sea
where they begat
yet more kids -
imagine that!
Giants, Nymphs and Furies,
all from a detached set of goolies.
HOTLINE
AUTOMATED MENU: Thank you for calling the planet-naming hotline. If you know the extension number you need, please say it now.
CALLER: Uranus!
AUTOMATED MENU: I’m sorry, that is not a valid extension number. Transferring you to the full menu. Please listen carefully to the following options. For planet naming, say 1. For constellations, say 2. For asteroids, say 3. For comets, say 4. For moon craters, say 5. For lost property, press the star key.
CALLER: I want to name Uranus.
AUTOMATED MENU: I’m sorry, that is not a valid selection. Please listen carefully to the following options. For planet naming, say 1.
CALLER: 1.
AUTOMATED MENU: You have selected 1. planet naming. Is that correct?
CALLER: Yes.
AUTOMATED MENU: OK. You would like to name a planet. First, please check that what you think is a planet is not actually a comet.
CALLER: Yes?
AUTOMATED MENU: Does the planet you wish to name have a tail? If you’re not sure, ‘comet’ is derived from the ancient Greek for long hair. Does your planet look like it has hair?
CALLER: Uranus has hair! Ha ha ha.
AUTOMATED MENU: If it has hair, it sounds like you’re trying to name a comet. Please hold while we transfer you to the comet department.
[hold music]
CALLER: Ah! No!
[phoneline rings]
COMET DEPT: You have reached the comet-naming department, which comet do you want to name?
CALLER: I’m sorry, I’m here by mistake - can you transfer me back to the planet-naming department?
COMET DEPT: Oh, did you get sent here because you said “Uranus has hair”?
CALLER: …No?
COMET DEPT: But did you though?
CALLER: …….yes.
[Comet dept hangs up. Hold music. Phone rings]
AUTOMATED MENU: Thank you for calling the planet-naming hotline. If you know the extension number you need, please say it now.
CALLER: Urghhghghhh.
AUTOMATED MENU: I’m sorry, that is not a valid extension number. Transferring you to the full menu. Please listen carefully to the following options. For planet naming, say 1.
CALLER: 1.
AUTOMATED MENU: For constellations, say - You have selected 1. Planet naming. Is that correct?
CALLER: Yes.
AUTOMATED MENU: OK. You would like to name a planet. First, please check that what you think is a planet is not actually a comet -
CALLER: It’s not a comet. It’s not a comet.
AUTOMATED MENU: OK, it’s not a comet. Now check that what you think is a planet is not just a blob of dirt on your telescope lens. Is what you think is a planet is not just a blob of dirt on your telescope lens? If yes, say 1. If no -
CALLER: There’s dirt on Uranus.
AUTOMATED MENU: I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.
CALLER: Uranus is dirty.
AUTOMATED MENU: No, it’s fine, I can guess. If your planet is a blob of dirt on your telescope lens, please say 1.
CALLER: 2.
AUTOMATED MENU: If your planet is not a blob of dirt on your telescope lens, please say 2.
CALLER: 2. 2!
AUTOMATED MENU: OK, you have confirmed your planet is not a blob of dirt on your telescope lens.
CALLER: You’re a blob of dirt!
AUTOMATED MENU: To ensure your planet meets the 2006 definition of planet as specified by the International Astronomical Union or IAU, please confirm whether your planet travels in an orbit.
CALLER: Er, how do I -
AUTOMATED MENU: An orbit is a circular or elliptical path of travel around a focal point, in the planet’s case the Sun or other star.
CALLER: I can check…
AUTOMATED MENU: Not to be confused with the orbit that is the bones housing your eye. If your planet fits in your eyehole, it’s too small to meet the criteria of planet.
CALLER: Ok then, it’s a big planet. Big huge planet.
AUTOMATED MENU: Does your planet fit in your eyehole? If yes, say 1. If no, say 2.
CALLER: 1. No, 2. 2!
AUTOMATED MENU: Is your planet’s orbit eccentric -
CALLER: Uranus is eccentric.
AUTOMATED MENU: - meaning the star it travels around is not at the centre of the orbit?
CALLER: Er…
AUTOMATED MENU: Which is what the word ‘eccentric’ originally referred to.
CALLER: Ok…
AUTOMATED MENU: Eccentric. Out of the centre. Like the ancient Greek ‘ek kentros’.
CALLER: 1?
AUTOMATED MENU: OK. To ensure your planet meets the 2006 definition of planet as specified by the International Astronomical Union or IAU, confirm whether it is round. If it is round, say 1. If it is not round, say 2.
CALLER: Uranus is round.
AUTOMATED MENU: To ensure your planet meets the 2006 definition of planet as specified by the International Astronomical Union or IAU, confirm whether it has achieved dynamical dominance.
CALLER: What?
AUTOMATED MENU: Also known as ‘clearing the neighbourhood’.
CALLER: Er?
AUTOMATED MENU: Is your planet the dominant object in its orbital zone?
CALLER: Ooh, dominate my orbital zone, mate.
AUTOMATED MENU: I’m sorry, that is not a valid response. Is your planet the dominant object in its orbital zone, other than its own satellites?
CALLER: I don’t know! What?
AUTOMATED MENU: Is your planet the Billy Big Balls in the galactic playground?
CALLER: Yes!
AUTOMATED MENU: OK, you have confirmed your planet is a planet per the definition of ‘planet’ established in 2006 by the Planet Definition Committee of the International Astronomical Union or IAU. Have you submitted your suggested name for your planet to the relevant task force of the Working Group for Planetary System Nomenclature or WGPSN, part of the International Astronomical Union or IAU, founded in 1919 to foster international cooperation and collaboration in astronomy, and to avoid duplicate names of astronomical objects, or any silly or obscene names? Before the names become planet-official, all names must be approved by the Working Group for Planetary System Nomenclature or WGPSN. Have you had your name approved by the Working Group for Planetary System Nomenclature or WGPSN?
CALLER: Wait, I can just go online now and submit it -
AUTOMATED MENU: The approval process takes several months minimum.
CALLER: OK then yes, I have had the name approved.
AUTOMATED MENU: Are you sure?
CALLER: Mm-hmm. Definitely.
AUTOMATED MENU: What name did you want to give to your planet?
CALLER: Uranus!
AUTOMATED MENU: Speak after the tone.
[Long pause]
CALLER: Uranus!
[tone]
CALLER: URANUS!
AUTOMATED MENU: I’m sorry, there’s already a planet called Uranus. The International Astronomical Union or IAU forbids duplicate planet names. What name that is not Uranus did you want to give to your planet?
CALLER: Um…
AUTOMATED MENU: I’m sorry, I did not hear your answer. What name do you want to give your planet? That isn’t Uranus.
CALLER: …….
AUTOMATED MENU: Or Uranus McUranusface.
CALLER: Aaaaarghhh!!
AUTOMATED MENU: 5! 4! 3! 2! 1!
CALLER: I don’t know!! I’m sorry!!
AUTOMATED MENU: Did you call just to say the word ‘Uranus’? If the answer is yes, say 1. If the answer is no, say 2.
CALLER: 2.
AUTOMATED MENU: Are you lying? If the answer is yes, say 1. If the answer is no, say 2.
CALLER: …1.
AUTOMATED MENU: Did you call just to say the word ‘Uranus’? If the answer is yes, say 1. If the answer is no, say 2.
CALLER: 1.
AUTOMATED MENU: Do you still want to say the word ‘Uranus’? If the answer is yes, say 1. If the answer is no, say 2.
CALLER: 2.
AUTOMATED MENU: Do you promise never to do this again? If the answer is yes, say 1. If the answer is no, say 2.
CALLER: 1.
AUTOMATED MENU: Thank you, goodbye. [end of call tone.]
CALLER: …2.
Hark back to the Podlingual episode of this show, James Kim talked about making fiction podcasts in multiple languages - English and Korean in his case. Back then he was talking about his exquisite semiautobiographical series Moonface, which I very much recommend, as I do his new project, You Feeling This?, a fiction podcast mixtape set in LA. Like Moonface it’s very beautiful and emotional, and sounds amazing, and it’s out in the podplaces 27 June so go add You Feeling This? to your playlists.
The Allusionist will be taking a break in July to gather more grist for the podmill, but while the show is off, the Allusioverse will be busy - we’ve got our fortnightly livestreams; we’ve got watchalongs, the next one is Little Shop of Horrors, the 1986 musical; we’ve got creative sharing club where people talk about their creative projects; AND of course we’re going to have your personal text tones/alarms/messages recorded by me. So join us at theallusionist.org/donate for as little as two American dollars per month, and the podcast itself is back in the second week of August.
Your randomly selected word from the dictionary today is…
apport, noun: an object produced supposedly by occult means at a seance.
Origin 19th century: from French apport ‘something brought’, from apporter ‘bring to’.
Try using ‘apport’ in an email today.
This episode was produced by me, Helen Zaltzman, with Martin Austwick, who composed and played the music, and also played William Herschel and provided backing vocals and editorial advice. Find Martin’s music at palebirdmusic.com.
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Seek out @allusionistshow on YouTube, Instagram,Facebook, and Twitter. And you can hear or read every episode, find links to more information about the topics and people therein, donate to the show and become a member of the Allusioverse, see the full dictionary entries for the randomly selected words, all at the show’s forever home theallusionist.org.
