Given my recent addiction to presidential campaigns of all flavors and recent eras, I tend to see the world around me in terms of national politics. My addiction got crazy enough that I can comfortably postulate that, given a subject, I could tie anything to Election ’08 within three degrees of separation.
Hypocrisy at the highest level of a religious movement? From John McCain to Pastor Hagee to American Evangelicals to homophobe Tom Haggard buying meth off of a gay prostitute.
The only reason I bring up the presidential campaign is that I’m playing Final Fantasy, a Japanese video game series rather successfully imported to the States. Specifically, I was playing with the chocobos of Final Fantasy VII. These chocobos are best described as creatures your characters can ride as if these creatures were magical horses, rather than the magical, monocolored ostriches they look like.
In Final Fantasy VII, you can breed chocobos, eventually coming up with up to five different varieties, with each variety distinguished by a given color.
Today’s anecdote begins with the understanding that I like to name my bred chocobos in such a way that I can easily identify them just by looking at their names. Grace is the green chocobo; Wren is the wonderful chocobo; Blake is the blue chocobo.
Too bad I didn’t think ahead. I forgot about what I’d call the black chocobo who would be the offspring of Blake and Grace. Besides Blake, I couldn’t think of any other boy names that begins with the letter B and includes, somewhere, the letter K. Hurriedly clicking my way to a baby name Web site, I almost immediately found the answer.
I hesitated. I almost didn’t want to give my new chocobo this name, because seen by the wrong person, it could be taken the wrong way. Within two minutes, I gave in to my sick sense of humor, anyway. Within nine minutes, I decided to share my depravity with the world.
Meet Barack, my newly hatched black chocobo. When he grows up, he’s going to be president.
More importantly, there’s no way I could forget his name.