“Who invented astrology?” wondered a woman at the bar. “Was it Copernicus?”

Cue the laugh track.

This in a local watering hole whose patrons — most anyway — know that “astrology” and “astronomy” come from two different Ancient Greek words, and thus, they never talk to or text each other. Of course, the way these days go, that knowledge is probably becoming obsolete. So much knowledge is. Have you noticed? (If you answered “no,” you know, there’s help available for that video-game thing you have.)

Those watering-hole patrons — most of them — also know that what Copernicus theorized has in no way become obsolete.

For those of you who slept through third and fourth grades, Copernicus posited that Earth and all the other planets revolved around the Sun, as opposed to the widely accepted, in the 16th century, Ptolemaic system, which held that the universe revolved around Mitt Romney. Ptolemy was a visionary, obviously — not only had Romney not been born yet, he had yet to strap a dog to a car roof. Who knew? When the universe revolves around you, the Good Ship Mitt growls, you can do whatever you please. So enough with the damn dog. Not that Mormons ever use the word “damn.” Or growl.

I’m not, by the way, putting down those of you who slept through third and fourth grades — those are sleepy times. I don’t remember a tremendous amount about third and fourth grades, but I remember Copernicus and what revolves around what. I also remember (speaking of) revolving around Nancy Mills, who was extremely intelligent and extraordinarily beautiful. Then her family moved to Delano, Calif. I’m not saying anything, except that, had you known Nancy Mills, you would remember third and fourth grades, too.

Maybe Copernicus remembers third and fourth grade, too. But given that he was Polish and lived in the 16th century, it seems doubtful whether he attended a school with U.S.-style grades. But he was extremely intelligent, from all reports. Though beautiful? Oh, well. Life teaches us that you can’t have everything.

Though the Good Ship Mitt would like to disagree. When the Ptolemaic universe revolves around you, it’s so easy to be disagreeable.

Not so disagreeable as the Hawkeye football team, perhaps.

That’s not to bash the Hawkeye football team — there’s plenty of that going around this burg right now. All the football team needs to do is lose one early game, and suddenly, the glass is half-empty, the roof is collapsing on the house, the engine has thrown a rod, and Attila the Hun has moved into the mayor’s office.

(That last might have already occurred, according to sources who do not wish to be named, most likely because their parents refused to do so.)

And the Europeans in town will ask, Why don’t you guys play real football?

I do have one question: Since when did the Hawkeye football team start pitching like the Red Sox? As a longtime Red Sox fan, I’m here to tell you, you really don’t want to go there (which, the last time I looked, is the cellar of the American League East).

Speaking of Attila the Hun (who is most likely not residing in the mayor’s office, given that he died in 453), Republican vice-presidential nominee Paul Ryan ran into a buzz saw recently, according to USA Today.

Ryan recently said in an interview that he had run a sub-three-hour marathon. Damn impressive, because most non-pro runners can’t break four hours.

Only, he didn’t. According to Runner’s World (yes, I know; that placement of the apostrophe means there’s only one runner in the world), Ryan has run one marathon, in 1990, and he didn’t break four hours.

Yeah. And Ryan is supposedly the budget-number guru. So if your numbers guru can’t get his one marathon time right … Yeah.

So did Romney invent astrology?

Nah.

It was all Paul Ryan. He’s the brains of the operation.