Showing posts with label Funny names. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Funny names. Show all posts

Friday, 5 July 2013

What's in a name?

I love names. They are a constant source of amusement for me and always have been. When I was younger I would sometimes go to work with my Dad when he went on 'mergencies' and while he was sorting out the fault in the telephone exchange I would sit with the operators and read the directories. I particularly love a funny name, the Drew Peacocks, Dick Heads, Teresa Greens and Oliver Klozoffs of this world make life worth living.  I believe that my dad worked with a Mr Kibbles, Donald who would answer the phone with a flourish, "Donkey Balls Southend Irish Sea."  I've never worked out what Southend Irish Sea was, though.

Yesterday, Twitter and Facebook exploded with the news that Katie Hopkins, self-confessed snob and ex-Apprentice candidate had made Holly Willybooby (I wish Keith Lemmon hadsn't made that joke because I can't remember her real name any more) lose her rag on air.  The cause of Heavenly Holly shouting, "Stop, just stop now," was Katie's insistance that she wouldn't let her children play with someone called Tyler, Princess or Charmaine.  Obviously, it didn't help that she then said that calling a potentially ugly child Bella was stupid.  (Holly's daughter is called Belle).  If you missed it or are reading this blog in 2093 (long after I'm gone) then you can watch it all here. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=edZjdgU0asM.  If this blog is still here, YouTube is still here and the internet hasn't crashed the whole world.


The woman is outragous, of course she is, but as she sat there smugly stating that she wasn't the only parent to do it I knew she was right.  No, of course I don't mean she was right to judge children by their names but she was right that lots of people do.  There was some research published in the Journal of Abnormal Psychology in 1950 (Vol 45(1) Jan1950) that showed people have terrible name bias.  They showed 150 men 30 photos of girls, chosen for their ambiguous ethnic looks and asked to them to rate them on whether they liked them, thought they were beautiful, intelligent, ambitious and entertaining.  Then they repeated the test 2 months later, giving the faces names that were classically Negro (their word), Italian, Jewish or Irish.  They found that the results were significantly less favourable, particularly for the Negro and Jewish names, although the women labelled with Jewish names were thought to be more intelligent and ambitious. There were less changes with the Italian and Irish names.  But just because people do it doesn't make it right.

It is natural to be put off a name if you encounter a particularly obnoxious person with that moniker.  I know teachers who have struggled to name their own children (particularly boys) because of previous 'bad boys' in their class. My friend named her son Thomas because she had never taught a bad Tom.  Unfortunately, as soon as she did every Thomas she taught was a little so and so.

It's also natural to put an image to a name. If we didn't, every novel would be like reading Wolf Hall, where every character is called Thomas and you get completely confused.  When you read a name like Elsie, Olive or Gladys you think little old lady, grey hair, quite sweet and hailing from the East End having moved to the country to escape the 'immigrants' (or is that just me?).  My daughter's boyfriend had a comment on his F1 article from a Dorothy (which makes me think of Ruby Slippers and following the Yellow Brick Road) and he was surprised that a Dorothy could be an F1 fan.

The problem is that it's only one tiny step from, "That kid Travis in my child's class has just been expelled, I'm not surprised with a name like Travis," to "All Travis' are bad and should be expelled/ locked up/shot/kept in concentration camps." Bigotry comes in many forms; racism, sexism, ageism, name-ism and they're all bad.

Katie Hopkins sounds like a lovely name.  I imagine a wholesome, sweetshop owner who wears floral skirts and jeweled sandles and is slightly unlucky in love but for whom the right man is waiting just around the corner.  That just goes to show how wrong you can be about a name. This Katie Hopkins is a snob (who doesn't seem to have sent her children to private school so that they can only mix with Cosmos, Maximillians and Karenzas).  She tweets outragous things like, "Ginger babies.  Just like a baby  Just so much harder to love."  She is famous for having stolen both her husbands from their wives by seducing them at work and having sex with them in fields.   Some of this may be explained by the fact that her twitter name is KTHopkins as KT is a very different person to to Katie. KT is more ruthless, doesn't have time for being nice she wears power heels and teeny tiny pencil skirts with blouses that show her lacy bra.  She flicks her long blond hair and bats her eyelashes to prove that a woman can do anything.


It's her children I feel sorry for.  They are doomed.  They can't choose their own friends now and how sad is that? What she doesn't realise is that once they go to senior school, they make new friends and those friends don't wait to be vetted by Mummy.  They hang out at lunch, enjoy a spot of planking in the rubbish French teacher's lesson and pass notes about boys/girls they fancy when the strict Maths teacher's back is turned.  They make alliances with people who are like them.  They find other children with obnoxious mothers so they can compare how awful their home life is.

Katie Hopkins pictured with her three children (r-l) India, Max and Poppy


Looking at the picture of her gorgeous children I can see they are already starting a rebellion.  She recently tweeted that her son had expressed an interest in being an hairdresser and that her husband was currently beating it out of him (I'm paraphrasing, as I can't find the original tweet) but I am so glad that he is already rebelling against his long locks and his sisters' uncombed hair.  Next thing you know he will bring home his new boyfriend, Tyler and announce that they are going to adopt twins, Chardonnay and Budweiser.

Friday, 3 August 2012

Loving the Limpics

Like the rest of the country, I've turned into a Limpic Couch Potato.  I haven't been for a swim all week, the dog has had shorter than normal walks and I'm even struggling to tear myself away from the TV for long enough to get a cup of tea.  I worry about what will happen when it's all over.  Will there be mass depression, the whole Country so lethargic they need to be surgically removed from their couches?  The organisers of the Olympics think that it will inspire everyone to go out and train.  They think we will be inspired to go and sculpt ourselves a stomach like Jessica Ennis.

The last time I was this interested in the Olympics was when Nadia Comaneci was getting perfect tens in the gymnastics.  That was the Summer of 1976, it was hot, you could only have a bath once a week and then you were limited to the amount of water you could have in it.  My Dad was looking after a small Telephone Exchange in a village about 7 miles from where we lived and we would cycle to see him, stopping on the way at the Ford to fish for Sticklebacks and paddle and to talk to the Tramp that lived under the bridge in the next village. The Telephone Exchange had a huge kitchen with a television in  and I remember spending hours there watching this brilliant gymnast.  This was the age when I spent most of my life upside down.


This passion for watching is how my son is with the Weightlifting.  It's so much easier for him, though.  We had one channel and could only watch what Aunty Beeb thought we'd be interested in.  Luckily, with the perfect tens flying around there was no question of not showing the gymnastics.

By the time the next Olympics arrived, I was a moody teenager who couldn't care less about sport.  Even the Steve Ovett and Seb Coe 'Clash of the Titans' barely caused me to raise an eyebrow.  I do remember it but for some reason, in my mind, it is linked with the Christmas when my Grandad drank too much, tried to walk along the kerb to prove he was sober, fell off and broke his arm.  

This year has been so exciting.  Bradley Wiggins and his sideburns, the gymnasts including the sweet little Nerdfighter gymnast, who nearly spliced herself in two on the beam, Tom Daley and his brilliant diving, rowing, sailing, horsey stuff.  I've watched it all.

But it is the names that really make me smile.  The Chinese athletes are wonderful for a laugh.  There are Yus, Haos, Dings, Pings Dongs and Wangs.  Dong Dong made me chuckle in the trampolining today.  If only he was Ding Dong and competed in the Ping Pong.


The long distance runner from the Seychelles must find it hard to be taken seriously in this country, no matter how well he does.
Gaylord Silly

But my absolutely favourite competed today.  A German diver called Katja Deickow (pronounced Kat Ya Dik Ov)