28 November 2008

A Post Named John

I have yet another reason to think Tilda Swinton one of the coolest people that currently graces this increasingly crackers planet with her presence. The current list is as follows... 1. she flaunts her striking red (i.e. the much-maligned 'ginger') locks, 2. wears some truly daring creations and pulls them off with aplomb, 3. holds film festivals in rural Scotland, at which she, as hostess, is pyjama-clad and if you bring a home-baked cake you get in free, 4. has an unapologetically unconventional domestic set-up, in that she lives with her children and their father (who remains a great companion and friend of hers, though no longer what she calls her 'sweetheart') yet also has a much younger lover who frequents her country dwelling and travels with her to foreign parts - all parties are happy with this arrangement, and a glorious one it sounds too.
Anyway, the new reason is that she refers to the father of her children, John Byrne, by his full name at all times. People do not do this often enough, and it makes situations have an air of the comical and absurd, which I love. 'Dinner is ready, John Byrne'. 'Oh drat it, John Byrne, could you please remove your wellies from right under my feet?!'. See, it totally works.

I'm actually thinking of changing my name to John. Apparently little Shiloh Pitt-Jolie (spawn of the glamorous Hollywood couple) will not answer to anything else but 'John'. This is the ultimate form of rebellion, and a big two fingers up at the sheer ridiculousness of her parents' cruelty in naming her something so 'unique' and 'original'. According to my sources (okay, I admit it, I am an avid reader of Glamour online) she has chosen John because of the character in 'Peter Pan' - the eldest, slightly geeky, Darling child who is whisked off to Neverland. Ahh, a wee bit of whimsy in amongst the usual drudge of meaningless, yet addictive, celebrity gossip. That tiny starlet will go far; I hope to the heavens she doesn't end up in rehab.

Although thought of as rather generic, especially in these bizarre times of Tallullahs, Pixies, and anything spelt as oddly as possible with accents and umlauts aplenty, the name John holds a certain solid appeal. There are too many Annas about these days I feel, and being a John would really set me apart.

And I have my pick as to who I was named after. John Keats. John F. Kennedy. Evil Prince John of Robin Hood fame. John Cleese. John Thomas (snigger, perhaps not). Maybe even Jean-Paul Sartre. The list goes on. Yes, that's decided it. I shall henceforth be known as John.

I may go as far as being Sir John... or Dame John.... or Marquis de John...

5 comments:

The Never Fairy said...

John is the eldest boy. But Wendy is odler than him. :)

For more Peter Pan adventure that's VERY different from all the rest, click my name.

BELIEVE!

Ma said...

After your grandfather?

anna said...

I am ashamed of my Peter Pan ignorence. Of course Wendy is the eldest, what an idiot I am. I'd best swot up on the old Barrie. Love the link by the way.
And no, mother, not after my grandfather, but after John Travolta circa 1978.

Vincent (Shiny-Sides) Kirk said...

John Kirk, our brother/sister bond is henceforth cut due to your ineptitutes and lack of knowledge when it comes to the glorios tale of Peter Pan.
And by the way, for any REAL members of my famliy also reading this blog, i shall answer to no other than the name Vincent. Partly because of Vincent Van Gough, partly because i like the name and partly after Andy's fish, suitibly named ' Vincent Shiny-Sides'

Nicky said...

(that was me by the way)