Once upon a time, the world was a sensible place.
When people had kids they gave them names that wouldn’t cause any confusion. The school attendance books were full of Johns, Marys, Stephens and Joans. Here in Ireland we had our own little favourites like Patrick, Seán and Eileen.
There were some peculiarities such as the Irish thing of giving boys a middle name of Mary for some strange reason but I think that’s died out now.
Then the Americans started fucking up things by changing names slightly by using a different spelling [but what would you expect from a crowd who can’t even spell colour, for fuck’s sake] and instead of Mary we had Mayree or Shannin or some such. The only benefit of that was to give the child a life of grief, having to spell out their name all the time.
Now the world has gone mad over names.
Beyoncé [whoever the fuck she is? A village in France?] has apparently named her kids “Sir Carter” and “Rumi”. What the fuck? I suppose there is a certain cleverness in elevating a newborn to a knighthood but doubtless the other one will want to know whey the fuck they weren’t called “Lord Rumi”? I suppose it could have been worse. She could have called one “Blue Ivy” or some such rubbish but her other sprog had already grabbed that beauty.
The world [apparently] has been holding its breath for the last month waiting to hear what some nonentity is calling her little spawn. Is the world a better place now that we know?
I just hope this fad dies down before things get too chaotic and people start calling their kids “Bdkkku” or “Xzjrkkk” or something.
I hope the Grandkids have more sense when their time comes.
Are you listening Puppychild, Sir Fartzalott and Squidge?