Wednesday, 14 April 2010


HOW DO YOU DO... names

What's in a name?

‘What’s in a name?’ Someone said once on television, in a real life actual studio, wearing a fat fish tie, in London, some time ago. Well that question like many others ended up as mere flirtatious wrapping for a segway into numerology. Stood, left unanswered that question gathered cliché and middle-aged housewives until, once more it's spluttered out in an ill conceived item on real people who have the same names as serial killers. And once again as Harold Shipman (the non-serial granny murderer) breaks down in torment over the seemingly unending dog feces left on his driveway. We realise that dogs make a lot of poo and another missed opportunity has left us, yet once more, wanting.

I’m making a stand, yes, right here, you will get the answer to the question, what's in a name? So, what's in a name then? Well, sit down, relax, put your feet up and the cup of tea down, ready, ok. What's is a name?


And maybe a post conception but pre birth predisposition for a given label from the inate phychological personality of every featus translated through genetics.

But mostly, letters.

You, yeah you, I will call you, plop

As I hope you’re aware of, we have names for almost everything. Yes almost. We have names for things I can't even see, touch and are not Swedish herbumpbumps. We have so many names for so many things we have to forget most of them in order to remember the rest. Why do we need them all? I don't know. Really, honestly, I think we can get by with the words; thing, it, you and nr, for like 80% of stuff.


1. Most people you meet and forget their name because they’re so plain what’s her name, Jane.

"Hey you! nooo not you. You … Thingy and that are going dogging later … Oi smell …"

2. You have a crippling hangover so you need to give instructions to cook.

"So pick up the meat worms, thingy em a bit, pour gu on, shove it in the beep beep for nnnnnnnr time, dump onto the white eater offer, shake some poo wee pong flakes on and give."

3.Having to direct someone without knowing anything but the destination

"You go down the big street with all the things on it, past lights, turn and keep heading over the water to the land, there’s a man there with a dog, past him, near the place which does scraps on your chips, go up, around, down, back on yourself, think about chive planes, and you’re there, Big Bill."


Personally I think a lot of names should be changed. Hear me out. The names of bits of the moon are all Greek, Roman or Latin whatevers. Some examples I came up with;

the Archimedes crater is now, the jugga bugger hole.

Most of the dinosaurs have names far to long and we all know they’re lizards so you can drop the saurus part for a start. Pleathiousaur is now, Frant-a-gahhh!

No wonder less people are studying science, chemicals are so boring chlorine is now, myeyespong.

Landmarks are so uncreative, so the Great Wall of China is now, the Gigantic Snicket of we're all on this together but I'm in charge.

Favourite name

Yes I'm being a child but my favourite name is Mohammed Mohammed. By sheer simplicity it has defied all conventions to introduce the duel singularity and confused many millions at one point in their lives. By the grace of it being a God elevates itself further unto the realms of Omni-brilliance. I don't understand why, I don't want to know, I wish it would catch on. "Hi I'm Glen Glen, this is our exchange student Sucki Sucki we met at a catwalk show by David David."

De pole

Everyone thought at some point in the past of changing his or her name. One old friend of mine changed his name from William Ambler Shawe to William The Conquerer, which (slow clap) was pretty damn good. This other guy, dunno what this name was but he changed his name to, Washing Powder, and yes he was a drip-dry 2mm ply sort of guy. Most people don't cos they're too aware of pretentious labeling signaled by overactive eye rolling. Like Washing Powder maybe should’ve had that instilled insecurity installed before he woke that morning in his laundry room cupping Daz, crying brother.

It’s like getting a tattoo of your favorite HE-MAN character, Mossman. It all sounds individually amazing but when you then have to interact with the unforgiving, unimaginative and unknowledgeable masses, explaining you used to love a man covered in moss with a purple thong and had a plastic swivel version to play with in your bedroom, just sounds wrong. It’s the same as that day in official circles where you’re angrily complaining about the bureaucracy and absurdity of the organisational structure. Of this pointless rebranding to deceiving the customer, when the operator says, “can I just confirm your name?”

“yes, it’s Thomas”

“and your surname”

“Tank engine, Thomas the Tank engine, stop it, I can hear you, stop fucking laughing!”

Call me: never trust

By having two first names myself apparently means I should be watched, Not like ‘Friday Nights with Jonathan Ross,’ but like Jonathan Ross. We're not meant to be trusted because 700 odd years ago my family decided to drop Fartsome and adopt Daniel as their surname. Oh an it's apparently my fault my parents, in a light hearted, probably inebriated mood decided out of the whole blue book of baby names to stop at page 267 and read Roger to wake up the next morning with babycham breath and a double entendre.

Do names predict behaviour

No comment.

Your fathers father isn’t grand

The sad truth is that like with everything, we have to deal with the choices of past generations regardless of right or reason. But y’know if that freak Iranian comet does kill 99% of the population leaving only us and giraffes. Things are gonna change, Och-O-wah-wah-con-carne can feel it.

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