Jason in Greek means “Healer.” I looked up the significance of it a few short years ago. The word healer I took to mean someone who helps, and brings hope. In my most prideful self-aware moments, I took this as being a “savior” or “hero” of some kind.
I liked this post and thought it was interesting to actually contemplate your name. Where he has a name more people know and have heard, we all know a Jason (no offense, I have three cousins named Jason), I thought about the diminishing uniqueness of my own name.
I’ve heard it more and more as I’ve gotten older, versions appear on the Top Names lists in recent years. This blows my mind. I wasn’t named Aden in the ‘00 because it was a kreeatuv (can I tell you how stupid that is? It doesn’t make it cute that you’re making fun of differently spelled names and yes, I think Tiphanee and Destuney and so on are silly spellings, but you look stupid when you do that, I’m sorry).
I was born in 1985. My name would have been my aunt’s name, but they instead used the grandmothers’ (my great grandmothers) names instead. Yes, it is after the seaport in Yemen, or else it might have been spelled with an “i” or something in a funny place. Yes, it was where my oldest aunt was conceived and while that’s weird, it’s actually one of the best ice breakers. People think it’s funny not just that I’m named for such a place, but that my mother stole the name.
The name “Aiden” means little fire. It’s gaelic in origins, which is appropriate as my family is Welsh and Scottish. I’ve always had an interest in fire, even without knowing that. It frightens and intrigues me. The way the flame burns pulls me in and I can just sit and watch it for long periods of time. Sometimes I play with fire, I take too much on my plate, get bogged down by nothing, put of things that need doing to do others things that don’t, like write an entry in my tumblr sprouted off of someone else’s idea. And Lord knows I’ve been burned. Friendships, relationships, even family has left my high and dry more than once. These things happen though, and any true little fire will just keep on glowing.
But let me be honest with you. Even with all that, I still think of my name as a link to my mother’s side of the family more than anything. My Granny was an amazing woman. She sang opera, she could read horses and tell you which could do well in races, she spoke other languages, translated Russian during World War II, and was even left there at one point. She raised five children as a military wife, lost her husband and only son both in the same year. She gave until she couldn’t. And still, she took me to plays, she handed me books, she even read the things I handed her. Granny was such a force in my life growing up and even now I’m still starting to cry while I think about it. She died five years ago and I still get worked up when I think about it. I think this is normal for a 25 year old who probably spent more time with her Granny than any of her friends up until about high school and college.
So that’s my feelings on my name and what it means to me.
“In a stunning turn of events, one pitched battle in [Alexandria] ended with protesters and police shaking hands and sharing water bottles on the same street corner where minutes before they were exchanging hails of stones and tear-gas canisters were arcing through the sky. Thousands stood on the six-lane coastal road then sank to their knees and prayed.”—
“Imagine it’s 1995: almost no one but Gordon Gekko and Zack Morris have cellphones, pagers are the norm; dial-up modems screech and scream to connect you an internet without Google, Facebook, or YouTube; Dolly has not yet been cloned; the first Playstation is the cutting edge in gaming technology; the Human Genome Project is creeping along; Mir is still in space; MTV still plays music; Forrest Gump wins an academy award and Pixar releases their first feature film, Toy Story. Now take that mindset and pretend you’re reading the first page of a new sci-fi novel:
The year is 2010. America has been at war for the first decade of the 21st century and is recovering from the largest recession since the Great Depression. Air travel security uses full-body X-rays to detect weapons and bombs. The president, who is African-American, uses a wireless phone, which he keeps in his pocket, to communicate with his aides and cabinet members from anywhere in the world. This smart phone, called a “Blackberry,” allows him to access the world wide web at high speed, take pictures, and send emails.
It’s just after Christmas. The average family’s wish-list includes smart phones like the president’s “Blackberry” as well as other items like touch-screen tablet computers, robotic vacuums, and 3-D televisions. Video games can be controlled with nothing but gestures, voice commands and body movement. In the news, a rogue Australian cyberterrorist is wanted by world’s largest governments and corporations for leaking secret information over the world wide web; spaceflight has been privatized by two major companies, Virgin Galactic and SpaceX; and Time Magazine’s person of the year (and subject of an Oscar-worthy feature film) created a network, “Facebook,” which allows everyone (500 million people) to share their lives online.
“The law discriminates against rape victims in a manner which would not be tolerated by victims of any other crime. In the following example, a holdup victim is asked questions similar in form to those usually asked a victim of rape. “Mr. Smith, you were held up at gunpoint on the corner of 16th and Locust?”
“Did you struggle with the robber?”
“He was armed.”
“Then you made a conscious decision to comply with his demands rather than to resist?”
“Did you scream? Cry out?”
“No. I was afraid.”
“I see. Have you ever been held up before?”
“Have you ever given money away?”
“Yes, of course–”
“And did you do so willingly?”
“What are you getting at?”
“Well, let’s put it like this, Mr. Smith. You’ve given away money in the past–in fact, you have quite a reputation for philanthropy. How can we be sure that you weren’t contriving to have your money taken from you by force?”
“Listen, if I wanted–”
“Never mind. What time did this holdup take place, Mr. Smith?”
“About 11 p.m.”
“You were out on the streets at 11 p.m.? Doing what?”
“Just walking? You know it’s dangerous being out on the street that late at night. Weren’t you aware that you could have been held up?”
“I hadn’t thought about it.”
“What were you wearing at the time, Mr. Smith?”
“Let’s see. A suit. Yes, a suit.”
“An expensive suit?”
“In other words, Mr. Smith, you were walking around the streets late at night in a suit that practically advertised the fact that you might be a good target for some easy money, isn’t that so? I mean, if we didn’t know better, Mr. Smith, we might even think you were asking for this to happen, mightn’t we?”
“Look, can’t we talk about the past history of the guy who did this to me?”
“I’m afraid not, Mr. Smith. I don’t think you would want to violate his rights, now, would you?”—(via itsthefirstday, directactioniswitchcraft-deacti) (via monologuesduvagin) (via somerset) (via loveyourchaos)