So many of our stories about technology and our paradigms for it refer to Greek and Roman myth and language: we name rocket ships “Apollo” and communication devices “telephone,” a human-machine interface a “cyborg.” It shapes not only the names for the technology we create, but the type of technology we create. I wondered what technologies a largely African diasporic culture might build, what stories its people might tell itself about technology. So a communication device that sees and hears becomes a “four-eye;” literally, a seer. The artificial intelligence that safeguards all the people in a planetary system becomes Granny Nanny, named after the revolutionary and magic worker who won independent rule in Jamaica for the Maroons who had run away from slavery. Rather than being a “Big Brother” paradigm it is an affectionate reference to her sense of love, care, and duty. The operating system that runs a dwelling is an “eshu,” named after the West African deity who can be in all places at once, who is the ghost in the machine.
Nalo Hopkinson (via datadrudge)
I think about this EVERY TIME they name a new object in space. It’s like.. even the next frontier has been made White.There’s like literally nothing to look forward to. The future is White.
Been thinkinhg about this for MONTHS NOW
Here is the full interview A Conversation With Nalo Hopkinson
This withdrawal from the city is evident in suburban names. Earlier suburbs of Chicago were named, inter alia, North Chicago, East Chicago, South Chicago, and yes, West Chicago. Later suburbs used park and forest to death. Chicago alone is surrounded by Bedford Park, Calumet Park, Deer Park, Edison Park, Elmwood Park, Evergreen Park, Forest Lake, Forest View, Franklin Park, Hanover Park, Highland Park, Ingalls Park, Jefferson Park, LaGrange Park, Lake Forest, Liberty Park, Melrose Park, Merrionette Park, Norwood Park, Oak Forest, Oak Park, Orland Park, Palos Park, Park City, Park Ridge, Richton Park, River Forest, Round Lake Park, Schiller Park, Stone Park, University Park, and Villa Park, not to mention Forest Park and Park Forest.
James W. Loewen, Sundown Towns: A Hidden Dimension of American Racism
This book is usually depressing as fuck, but occasionally it’s hilarious.
I do multiple intrinsically non- and/or anti-feminist things a day, basically. None of it changes who I am or what I stand for–but those things also don’t magically become feminist just because I’m the one doing them.
And that’s basically what I think of feminists who are among the 90% of American women who choose to take their husbands’ names at marriage. They’re not bad people. I don’t want to collect up their feminist cards. But it is just fucking reality that they made a non-feminist choice in that particular instance. It didn’t magically become feminist because they were the ones who chose it.
And yet, when somebody tries to say that, and discuss why it’s troubling that so many women still follow this particular patriarchal tradition, the conversation stalls out within five minutes, because every fucking feminist who took her husband’s name wants to sit you down and tell you why her choice was made free and clear in a vacuum, as opposed to within the shared cultural context in which 90% of straight married women take their husbands’ names, and 50% of Americans think it should be legally mandated.
Every one of us has two given names. I don’t mean first name and surname, or first and middle. I mean two entire names, each one of which represents our complete identity. These two are a sound and an image, or a spoken name and a written name.
We think of these names as being one. My name is Laura, whether I type it to you in this blog or speak it to you on the phone. But in fact they are two, linked but distinct.
Let’s say your name, spoken, is “IZ-ə-behl.” That’s a familiar and fashionable classic. It’s usually represented by the letter string Isabel or Isabelle, but in the past decade thousands of girls have also been given the written names Isabell, Isobel, Izabel, Izabelle, Izzabelle and more.
What their porn names would be.
My porn name would be: (blank) 82nd Ave… New Yorker fail.
Kermit 91st and Amsterdam. Yeah, (a) New Yorker fail, and (b) I was clearly not meant to be a porn star.
Like I said last night, Sophie 187th. No good.
Maggie Walton. I’m more sitcom than porn.
Sunshine Indian Rock. I guess I would be a culture-appropriating hipster porn star. I would always wear my ironic Native American headdress.
Ginger Farwell. I like Cupcake Island though.
The pioneering Australian weatherman Clement Wragge began assigning names to tropical cyclones in the late 19th century, initially using the letters of the Greek alphabet and characters from Greek and Roman mythology. An eccentric and playful fellow, he later turned to the names of local politicians he particularly disliked; as a result, he was able to state in public forecasts that the officials were “causing great distress” or “wandering aimlessly about the Pacific.” Needless to say, Wragge’s subtly hostile approach didn’t take the meteorology profession by storm.
Google+ is not a charitable service run for the benefit of users. It, like scores of other free sites, like Facebook, like Tumblr, like Twitter, like Blogger, etc. is a profit-generating machine. The owners of the site make a profit from user content, and on sites like Google+ and Facebook, there’s also a big potential to make a profit through the direct commodification of user identities. Google makes money when you use your legal name on their site. It makes less when you use a pseudonym. And that is what this about.
Many of the people advocating for pseudonymous use are activists, many of whom use the Internet for online organising and the exchange of information and ideas. They are attempting to work within a capitalist system to create change, which is essentially a losing proposition. As Flavia has already discussed here, social media as a whole is not democratic. It is a capitalist tool. If Google’s approach to this issue takes on, it could make the Internet substantially less safe for activists worldwide.
Still waiting for Harry’s fourth kid tbh
He will be named DOBBY HEDWIG
Can we talk about how Harry named one of his kids after LUNA LOVEGOOD
I mean we’ve got his father, his godfather, his mentor, and his unknown protector all represented in the boys, and then for the girl he goes with his mother and LUNA LOVEGOOD. Not Hermione, not Minerva, not Molly—Luna. Because she’s just that awesome.
(We could also talk about how Ginny doesn’t seem to have any input whatsoever in the naming process, but she might be leaving the Weasley family names for her brothers to use. Still, WHY on earth would she consent to “Albus Severus”? Seriously? I mean Siriusly.)
The four kittens at this link are named Cider, Stout, Amber, and Porter. LOVE IT
Drink it in, London. Take a good, long look at Jaden, Jada, Willow, and me, because we are about ten seconds away from ruling this universe and that means we will be the Prime Ministers of your asses. And when that happens, you will also name your kids Will, Jada, Jaden, and Willow. Also eligible: Willa, and Wada, and Jall, and Willen. We will accept Jawill and Jallow in a pinch, but Jill is obviously totally absurd and out of the question, so don’t even talk to me about that nonsense. Are we clear? Good.
I have lived in Japan for several years, programming in a professional capacity, and I have broken many systems by the simple expedient of being introduced into them. (Most people call me Patrick McKenzie, but I’ll acknowledge as correct any of six different “full” names, any many systems I deal with will accept precisely none of them.) Similarly, I’ve worked with Big Freaking Enterprises which, by dint of doing business globally, have theoretically designed their systems to allow all names to work in them. I have never seen a computer system which handles names properly and doubt one exists, anywhere. So, as a public service, I’m going to list assumptions your systems probably make about names. All of these assumptions are wrong. Try to make less of them next time you write a system which touches names.
The comments are disheartening. “What’s my motivation to care about someone with [an unusual name]?” “How much impact does [this issue] have on your bottom line??” #1 is an asshole, #2 is missing the point entirely.
I like “Marlowe” as an alternative to “Marley.” I’d probably use it for a boy rather than a girl, though.