Reykjavík Grapevine - 13.06.2003, Qupperneq 9
C O L U M N S
- the reykjavik grapevine - 9may 15 - may 29, 2003
THE SUPERLEAGUE
THE NAME GAME
Þóra and Gunni were just your
average carefree shopaholic
Icelandic couple.
Theirs was a tender love story that
had now produced a child. After much
discussion and many wild suggestions
they finally settled on Bruce. They
plumbed for a traditional naming
ceremony, complete with a white
christening gown lovingly handed
down from generation to generation.
They chose the location from one of
Iceland’s many picture postcard timber
churches. On the morning of the service
all concerned converged on the little
prayer house to welcome the newest
member of the family.
As the priest began to recite the
verses, the precious child poised over
the font in readiness for anointment, all
hell broke loose. An Icelandic swat team
on a mission for the ministry of culture
sprang in to action. Storming the church
armed to the teeth, they swooped on
the offending couple. Manhandled to
a waiting vehicle and whisked to the
nearest correctional facility they now
regretted bitterly their audacious crime.
Weeks later they stood condemned in
the dock found guilty of possession of
an illegal name with intent to supply.
Readers will be relieved to know that
the tragic tale of Þóra and Gunni exists
only in the fevered imagination of your
correspondent. A surreal hypothesis
based on taking Icelandic law to its
logical conclusion, for believe it or not,
it’s not legal to call your child any old
name. There exists deep in the bowels
of bureaucratic government a sacred
list of acceptable but solely Icelandic
titles from which to choose. Failure
to comply with this helpful aid does
not, admittedly, result in an elaborate
sting operation at the water font. Such
a transgression does however incur
an annual fine or levy for as long as
your child is rebelliously registered.
In practice this is not a common
occurrence. Ninety-nine times out of a
hundred a chosen name will not cause a
problem. If however you wish to go with
Brad, Dave or even Catsmeat Potter
Perbright, then you have a problem.
My childish parody of these regulations
should not of course obscure the
fact that there is a certain merit in
these seemingly bizarre laws. Though
colonised for centuries by Denmark,
Iceland retained its own language, an
achievement of which they are justifiably
proud. Iceland, however is a small,
relatively powerless country, continually
bombarded with foreign popular culture,
particularly from the United States.
There is a determination in the face
of this onslaught that the beautiful
language be protected and it purity not
be sullied by foreign words and names
which cannot be properly conjugated in
the complex grammar system.
It is the tradition that each offspring’s
surname is made up of his/her
father’s name, Jónsson (son of Jón),
Jónsdottir(daughter of Jón) and so
on.As a result it’s quite common to
have a married couple with two kids
all bearing different surnames. To add
to the confusion, some families also
take an additional clan or family name.
Sometimes this makes names just
downright unfeasible. Take my wife’s
name for instance. Her full title runs
something like this Ingunn Kristjana
Vilhjálmsdottir Snædal,a mouthful in any
language. To cap it all, should I in the
fullness of time wish to become a citizen
of this great land, I would have to take
,officially at least, a full Icelandic title.
How about Þormóður Kraki Sigurbjartur
Boyce? Having always been displeased
with my rather staid moniker it is
possibly my only opportunity to acquire
a more racy title.
John Boyce
Sports tend to get
dull, let’s make them
interesting!!!
In the world of sport, you
constantly hear of drug abuse and
performance enhancing methods
that are forbidden. Athletes go to
great measures to achieve better
physical power and endurance like
taking steroids, pumping blood into
themselves before competitions and
so on. This seems to extend to all
sports from swimming to Formula
1 racing. In the motor sport circuit
there are strict regulations about
everything it seems and the endless
complications are getting confusing
to say the least.
I have been wondering, what’s
the big deal here? Why not allow
everything? For all I care they could
use rocket power to achieve 600
kmph on the straights in formula
one racing and why not? It’s good
entertainment. I would like to see the
record for the women’s high-jump
be crushed by someone jumping
50 cm higher than the old record
see sailboats exceed 150kmh in
races held on the outer limits of
huge tornados and basketball player
dunk from the three point line. Who
wants humanity to end up as a
collection weak creatures with small
bodies and large heads traveling on
slow moving electric vehicles and
talking about their fluid diet, how
wonderful their armpits smell and
the beautiful shade of pink their skin
has become. I want to see multi
racial, bio-mechanic life forms with
the strength of five normal humans
traveling at the speed of sound on
nuclear-powered motorcycles just to
get to get to work or your average
joe climb Everest just to stay in
shape; A brave new world of new
horizons and no limitations!.
Off course, people are going to say
it is unhealthy to use steroids or
whatever, but hey, if professionals
are willing to do that for personal
excellence or for fame or fortune.
Why not let them? I’m not going to
pop steroids or challenge Lennox
Lewis to a fight but I have no
problem with professionals doing
it. Let us create a super league in
all sports where you’re allowed to
use every resource available Just
imagine the fun watching those
sports on TV or live.
The purists can have their own
league and achieve their own
“clean” records. Doesn’t matter to
me, I won’t be watching.
H. Gun.
With the right combination of steroids every man (and woman) might one
day look like this.