The subject involving the names black parents bestow on their children generated quite a debate here, and it wasn’t long before I landed in the midst of it, peripatetic gadabout that I am. I’ve tried to adopt a tolerant approach to life, - one that reflects a "live-and-let-live" attitude, but people who assert, stir up my assertiveness. So, fresh from my literary excursion through a book about the esoteric realm of Masonic symbolism, I cast aside the ethereal veil which had enthralled me, donned my cynical game-face, and jumped into the clash.

As usual, the subject split out and went off on different tangents. Before long, arguments in favor of made-up names merged with an advocacy for African names, and I neglected to make a distinction when passing judgment. Now, I want to better clarify my position. To me, choosing an African name is about making a statement. Making a name up is simply an uttered inspiration, the latter having less substance than the former. In any case, people are free to make their choices and to attack me in the process of defending these choices, just as I am free to voice my opposition to their rationales. Shakespeare said “what’s in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” So be it. Let’s hear it for aroma; forget the drone.

Incidentally, I have always been interested in etymology and language and sounds, believing that if you repeatedly intone any syllable long enough, it loses its worldly significance and blends into the "atmospheric hum". The word “WHO” is the name I have given to the Omiscient Ubiquity that gives cohesiveness to our existence. So, in retrospect, when it comes to the subject of what names folks decide to give themselves and their children, I suspect that WHO gives a damn... But I don't. WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The subject involving the names black parents bestow on their children generated quite a debate here, and it wasn’t long before I landed in the midst of it, peripatetic gadabout that I am. I’ve tried to adopt a tolerant approach to life, - one that reflects a "live-and-let-live" attitude, but people who assert, stir up my assertiveness. So, fresh from my literary excursion through a book about the esoteric realm of Masonic symbolism, I cast aside the ethereal veil which had enthralled me, donned my cynical game-face, and jumped into the clash.

As usual, the subject split out and went off on different tangents. Before long, arguments in favor of made-up names merged with an advocacy for African names, and I neglected to make a distinction when passing judgment. Now, I want to better clarify my position. To me, choosing an African name is about making a statement. Making a name up is simply an uttered inspiration, the latter having less substance than the former. In any case, people are free to make their choices and to attack me in the process of defending these choices, just as I am free to voice my opposition to their rationales. Shakespeare said “what’s in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” So be it. Let’s hear it for aroma; forget the drone.

Incidentally, I have always been interested in etymology and language and sounds, believing that if you repeatedly intone any syllable long enough, it loses its worldly significance and blends into the "atmospheric hum". The word “WHO” is the name I have given to the Omiscient Ubiquity that gives cohesiveness to our existence. So, in retrospect, when it comes to the subject of what names folks decide to give themselves and their children, I suspect that WHO gives a damn... But I don't. WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I feel you mah sistah. Im waiting to see a Navi name from Avatar LOL