Do You Ever Think Of You And Stanley As Celestial Figures?

Do you ever think of you and Stanley as celestial figures?

Like the sun and the moon, or the planets and the stars? You described Bill as a black hole once, what would that make you and Stanley? Maybe even Dipper and Mabel?

Hm. That is a wonderfully intriguing question! I'm not sure I've entirely processed what my thoughts on this would be, so this will be fun to delve into. Do not interpret any of this metaphorically—I am not a poet, and I am not attempting to be. These are simply my thoughts on the matter.

Stanley reminds me of the Earth. Not in a motherly, nurturing way as some might describe, but in the way that it is resourceful. Full of life, even. The surface of the Earth is inherently cold, but, of course, once you get closer to its core, you encounter nearly scorching warmth—warmth that mimics the sun, warmth that keeps Earth's natural magnetic field functioning. Some may call this a plain choice, but I detest the notion. If you think the Earth is plain, I ask you this: would an alien from another world think that a planet, bustling with life and hope and knowledge, growing and producing miracles every single day, is plain? Boring? It all depends on perspective whether it's liked, but, objectively, the Earth is one of the most useful and miraculous planets out there.

Anywho, as for my great-niece, Mabel, I'm sure that it may seem obvious that her assignment is in relation to a star, but it is a bit more complicated than that. From my point of view, I see her as a supernova. For those who are not aware, a supernova is the result of a supermassive star reaching the end of its lifespan. Now, technically, you could view the explosion of a star as a "death" of some kind. The end of a life; but, arguably and on the contrary, I would consider it a rebirth. A supernova, the rebirth of a star, is a force that brings massive amounts of energy and light to the galaxy around it—quite literally brightening up the worlds nearby for several light years—which certainly sounds like a certain somebody. Supernovae also release elements like oxygen and rubidium into the air, which are essential for lifeforms to intake.

Furthermore, I would categorize Dipper as a dwarf planet in this fictional, imaginative world where we all take forms of celestial bodies. Many dwarf planets, although often overlooked due to their size, are not much different from their larger planet peers. They share similar traits, such as the presence of moons paired with some of them, as well as the (possible but likely, in my opinion) existence of lifeforms on the planets with less harsh atmospheres. Additionally, they are incredibly helpful when it comes to exploring both the history and the present state of the solar system—after all, the study of Pluto's orbit was what led to the discovery of orbital migration in the bigger planets we are more familiar with. They arguably also have the more interesting names.

Finally, for myself, I would consider myself to be an asteroid—specifically 4 Vesta. Vesta is a unique asteroid. It's the second largest body in the main asteroid belt, which nearly led to it being classified as a dwarf planet, but it never achieved the title. Its structure is similar to the one of Earth's, with both a crust, mantle, and warm core. This is because it formed much earlier, pre-dating the birth of the solar system that we know and love. Although it contains the greatest amount of brightness observed on any rocky body in the entire system, it contains both light and dark material, along with impressively large craters. These craters are a result of many collisions and crashes with other objects—one of which, titled the Rheasilvia crater, was responsible for it losing 1% of its mass.

These are surface-level comparisons, and astronomy was never my main focus, so forgive me if these weren't the answers you were expecting.