Yeah, so, Arachnotron.

I wanted to take the time to explain myself fully, as early polling has shown that I may have chosen a hard to defend position on this one. Sometimes a man has got to stand up and do what’s right, believe in his own judgment and walk the walk.

Unfortunately I’m a bit tired and, due to my unusual value system whereby the urge to sleep trumps even the survival instinct, I’ll represent myself poorly, offer a half baked argument  and slink off to beddy byes. Leaving future-me to look like a twit, but then what do I care about that fucker? He can’t do anything for me or to me, time moves in only one direction and that dudes problems are his own.

Anyway, we came to a shortlist of names for our firstborn child, a daughter as it turned out. The list was made up of several names for each possible sex, compiled by the missus, and one all covering unisex mighty name postulated by my bauld self, that name being Arachnotron.

Now I’ve heard the arguments against, I’ve done my research. There’s no point in telling me the name sounds daft, that I’m naming a person and not an advanced piece of futuristic  military hardware or that the child will get a fierce slagging.

For a start pretty much nothing rhymes with Arachnotron, leaving the primary school kids with little ammo. Maybe if myself and herself get divorced they could chant “Arachnotron, yer Da is gone”  but that’s both contingent on an unlikely event and also a bit weak, even for six year olds.

Secondly, advanced pieces of futuristic military hardware often have cool names;  apache, cobra, sidewinder, xk-11 etc.  At the same time parents are constantly trying to give their kids cool names so they will be better equipped to survive the hostile social environs of the education system;  Lee, Zoe, D’jemelanie or whatever.
I’m just ahead of the curve on this one, quantum leaping to the name everybody is going to wish they thought of first.

And, most relevantly, when this child grows up to be a twenty-five foot tall, spider shaped robot with pulsating green lasers flashing from her eyes, reducing the city to smoking blasted rubble, Roisín is going to sound pretty lame.

I lost that one. I fought the good fight but she’s tougher than she looks, is the missus. The childs name is Roisín.
I have to admit, it does suit her; she’s all small and cute and red-faced. She does all that super-cute baby gurgling and and a very funny sneeze, like a kitten sneezing.

I can only hope that she continues to grow into her name, and not into a metal and silicon construct driven by an alien and nameless rage.

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