Is it just me, or would celebrities and Utahns tie for first place in the Cruel Name-Giver World Championships?

Utah would win the grand prize—or perhaps the grande pryze—in the Byzzare Spellinge category.  Celebrities would take the cake for Names Inspired by Foods, Careers, and Pawn Shop Items.  I can almost humor the actors and actresses who name their babies Apple (Gwyneth Paltrow), Banjo (Rachel Griffiths), and--my personal favorite--Pilot Inspektor (Jason Lee).  After all, celebrity worship and drug abuse skew the mental processes of our beloved idols until their collective brain mass resembles soggy chow mein (hey Gwyneth—great name for your next baby!).

But tell me, what makes Utahns think they have the right to doom their offspring to a lifetime of nightmarish roll calls?  Perhaps they believe that, since figures like Mohonri Moriancumer and Berodachbaladan show up in scripture, outlandish names and holiness are directly related.  But let me remind you, folks:  Berodachbaldan was a Babylonian king, and there is a reason the Book of Mormon only refers to Mr. Moriancumer as “the brother of Jared.”   

In short, unless you want to raise a wine-guzzling sinner, do not name your son Berodachbaldan (or your daughter, for that matter, since Giving Girls Boy Names is another beloved pastime in Utah).   Also, do not name your child Sarley, Taggert, Gerney, Quxncie, or Tyranni.  What’s that?  You already did?  (And these are actual children’s names in Utah?!?)  For what earthly reason would you name your daughter Tyranni?   Perhaps you are a terrorist.  Or maybe you’re just a few jewels short of a crown:  “La, la, la.  I wonder what ‘tyranny’ means?  Oh well—it doesn’t matter.  If I change the ‘y’ to an ‘i,’ I will be original, cutesy, and smart!  La, la, la.  I think I’ll stick my head down the garbage disposal.”

Sometimes, however, parents are not to blame for unfortunate names.  This year, the Society of Composers at ASU hosted a national composition competition.  We received over one-hundred entries, including submissions from Mr. Pluta, Mr. Ouper, and Mr. Bloland.  Now, composers are a unique bunch, and I would bet money (if I had any; I am a composer, after all) that these people made up their own names.  Famous artists usually become known by their surnames, and I suppose these hopefuls plan to make a memorable mark in the musical world.  But honestly—Bach, Beethoven, and Bloland?   How could you even say, “I will now perform Bloland’s Concerto for Kazoo” without cracking up?  Okay, fine.  I can’t even keep a straight face while saying the word “kazoo.”  But that’s beside the point.  (If I ever had a point.  Which I didn’t.)

A note to all celebrities:  Next time you’re using your chow mein brain matter to conjure up a new baby name, give me a call.  I’ve got some real zingers.  The other day, I heard a mother call her daughter “Citrus.”  Apple and Citrus would make a great sister pair, I think.  And once you run out of fruits, I suggest you move on to veggies.  Asparagus and Kumquat--“Quatty” for short--roll nicely off the tongue.  You could even take a lesson from the Utahns and spell them “Uhspheregguss” and “Quamkwahdht.”  The possibilities are troolie lihmidtless!