Well, alert NASA, SpaceX, and every poor soul who spent a decade studying astrophysics: Katy Perry is now officially an astronaut. Or at least that’s what the headlines are calling her after her recent 11-minute jaunt into space.
Eleven. Minutes. That’s not a mission, it’s a coffee break with altitude.
Apparently, Katy hopped aboard one of those luxury cosmic Uber rides – designed more for influencers and Instagrammable moments than actual science – and took a suborbital trip just far enough to float around, snap a few selfies, and make the rest of us wonder why we ever respected the term “astronaut” in the first place.
And now, we’re giving her the same title as people who’ve spent six months on the International Space Station, dodging space debris and conducting experiments with names like “protein crystallization in microgravity” instead of “which side looks better for my zero-gravity selfie.”
To put it in perspective:
- Katy Perry’s mission lasted 11 minutes.
- Real astronauts? They clock in about 180 days on a standard ISS tour.
- That’s 259,200 minutes.
- Katy did 0.004% of that and still got the same title.
That’s like finishing a single lap in a kiddie pool and being handed an Olympic gold medal for swimming. Or showing up to the first day of med school, taking a tour, and walking out with a stethoscope and a prescription pad.
Again, no hate to Katy. She’s a legend, she gave us Left Shark FFS. But can we cool it with the astronaut label? She went to space the same way most of us “go camping” – for a few hours, with snacks, Wi-Fi, and the knowledge that it’s all over before dinner.
Meanwhile, real astronauts are up there rationing toothpaste and pissing into vacuum tubes. One small step for Katy, sure – but let’s not pretend it was a giant leap for humankind.
So congratulations, Katy. You’ve officially spent more time in space than most of us ever will – and less time than it takes to get through airport security. But let’s maybe put an asterisk next to “astronaut,” yeah?
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