By contrast, our sun is kind of cheery and nice. Sure, Mr. Sun makes mornings worth getting up for, but Betelgeuse boils an angry red (surpassing in intensity even your worst case of acid reflux!), complete with menacing coronal plasma. Pulsing and noxious — and looking red even to the naked eye — the rogue giant is so much sexier than benign ol' Sol.
Betelgeuse is gargantuan! Its volume equals 1.6 billion suns. Its diameter is 650 times larger than the sun's, and it is 10,000 times brighter. If Betelgeuse were suddenly to replace the sun at the center of the solar system, its surface would extend to the orbit of the planet Jupiter.
But my love affair with this galactic colossus now teeters at the brink of credulity. It may soon be proven that Betelgeuse has been a giant fraud. A major explosion is perhaps now brewing; then, poof.
Some scientists are predicting that Betelgeuse may soon — and I'm not saying "soon" like a billion years soon, but soon as in 2012 — go supernova on us. Couple that with the end of the Mayan calendar and 2012 is shaping up to be a downer of a year.
The supergiant may be prepping for a cataclysmic detonation in a matter of months. Or maybe it'll happen in a thousand years. Or a million. Scientists are notoriously squishy about their dates.
But when it happens Betelgeuse will go from a supergiant to a neutron star in one massive implosion. As a consequence, its size will diminish from a couple of billion suns to the size of an Idaho ranch.
An Australian newspaper quotes a University of Southern Queensland staffer as saying that the star could "literally collapse in upon itself and do so very quickly." Like in a matter of weeks.