I paused with a familiar thought: Mark was just too short and awkward sounding and such a great tissue paper turkey deserved a better signature. On my lunch box, the tag inside my coat, my baseball glove, etc. I had no idea that over time, this unwanted companion would become my respected friend.
Kass November The authors of this essay on names have just identified themselves. For the sake of full disclosure, they are willing to have it known that they have the same last name not by coincidence or consanguinity but because they are married to each other and have been for over thirty-four years.
The authors respectfully submit that the reverse is closer to the truth, that their attitude toward names and naming—and the many things that they have slowly come to understand about what names imply—is responsible for this paramount biographical fact.
This essay is a first attempt to articulate, not least for themselves, what they have tacitly understood. I Everybody has a name. Nearly everybody who has a name knows what it is. Our name is as familiar and as close to us as our own skin; indeed, we are more frequently aware of our name than we are of the unique living body that it identifies.
We write it, speak it, answer to it-often, immediately, surely, unreflectively. We generally take our name for granted. But, for these reasons, in a deeper sense we may not really know our name—what it means, why we have it, how it should be regarded and used.
Paradoxically, by dint of being so familiar, the manifest mystery of our named identity may have become invisible to us. We name ourselves and others, but do we really know what we are doing when we do so? To name is to identify.
But what this means depends on the meaning of names, the meaning of identity, and the relation between the name and the thing named.
Most common names, unlike personal names, are merely pointers, holding no deeper meanings for the named. A rose by any other name would surely smell as sweet. The lion were he called a lamb would still be king of beasts.
And human beings, whether known as anthropoi, viri, beney adam, or menschen, remain unalterably rational, animal, and just as mortal. Like the names that Adam gave the animals, these names designate but do not determine the thing. They are merely conventional handles for grasping the beings handled, which, because they are already naturally distinct and distinctive, beg only to be recognized with names peculiarly their own.
In naming beings distinctively we do little more than acknowledge the articulated and multiform character of the given world. Not all acts of naming are so innocent. Sometimes they actually shape and form the things they name. Such creative naming is, for example, especially characteristic of the biblical God, Who, in the account of creation given in the first chapter of Genesis, names five things: As Robert Sacks observes, We can best grasp the significance of naming by comparing the things God named with the names God gives them.
Light was called day, darkness was called night. The firmament was called heaven, the dry place was called land, the water was called sea. Darkness is not light, water is not dry.
What more does a name add? Light and darkness, wet and dry, like the thinly pounded sheet of copper, seem to be an indefinite morass, each having its own quality, but each spreading out beyond the human imagination.
But the day ends when night comes and the seas end at the shoreline, and the firmament becomes a whole when it becomes the sky. Without names, there would still be distinctions. There would be love and there would be hate, but bravery would shade off into foolhardiness, and we would lose the clarity of thought.
Like the creation itself, which proceeds by acts of speech which are in turn always acts embodying and producing separationsthese acts of naming bring order to chaos, the discrete to the continuous, definition to the indefinite, shapely and recognizable form to the merely qualitative.
Human naming, though perforce an act of speech and hence of reason, is, however, frequently colored by human passions such as fear, pride, hope, and lust.
The names Adam gave the animals may have been disinterested, but not so the names he gives to himself and to the woman when she is brought before him: This is not the voice of pure reason naming; and the name, born of his desire, has consequences for their relationship.
Later, a different passion will lead the man to rename the woman, this time without reference to himself. What, then, is the case with our proper names, our personal names, the names we carry throughout our lives?My name is Johana.
My name means “God is gracious.” My name doesn't have any special meaning in a foreign blog-mmorpg.com ethnic origin for my name is Greek, Hebrew. Many people call me “JoJo,” I don’t really know how I got the nickname, my 3rd grade teacher started calling me that and I've.
What Family Means to Me. 4 Pages Words February Saved essays Save your essays here so you can locate them quickly! My last name Holmes is the only name that originated from my father’s side of my family. Holmes is my dad’s last name, and when he married my mom her last name changed from Jordan to Holmes.
Thus, when I was born I was automatically given the last name Holmes.
name Anthony it stands out for some reason I don't know why but it does, one day I will I don't believe I inherited my name from anyone in my family on my mother or my father's side, my name is .
For example, when starting an essay about what does family mean to me, the following can be a good introduction: “No one can deny that family is the foundation of society, a family is where we start our life journey.
The family shapes us and helps us grow to achieve meaningful goals throughout our lives. When we talk about family, what comes. essay on what my name means to me is the classification. Negligibly nightlong angelina disembogues on the interlining.
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