A Martyrdom of Fashion-Slaves

By Vincent Sakowski

"Do you, Daniel Martin Oakenfold-Sokalofsky-Ellingboe-Clinton-Ngo-Hammersmith-Jones-Schneider-Schulman-Knowles-Gendron-Uthe-Ruszkowski-Maxwell-Oryshak-Koch-Alatabi-Jeanneau-Webb-Runge-Rus-Kalyniuk-Chaban-Lee-Chamney-Marlowe," I took another breath. "Schreiner-Kelly-Fitzpatrick-Moore-Knorr-Phoung-Wacker-Olzewski-Manske-Friesen-Nemanishen-Quiring-Prevost-Mierau-Scott-Banman-Dyck-Semchyshen-Graspy-Hamm-Thompson-Wiebe-Mcfadyen-Archer-Eaves-Kozak," And another. I had hoped to make it to the end, but--"Berg-Billet-Chappell-Hungness-McDougal-Holt-Minty-Boeschen-Ogilvy-Slywka-Neale-Post--"

I paused, inhaled and gazed down warmly at the bride.

"Take you, Stephanie Rose Haugrud-Dahlseide-Anwender-Barber-Armbrust-McNab-Jorgenson-Davies-Voldeng-Pushkarenski-Sapieha-Young--"

"That's Pushkarenko-Young-Sapieha."

"Of course. My deepest apologies." I turned my eyes up from the page before me and looked at them hopefully. "May I continue where I left off, or would you like me to begin again?"

Steph and Dan regarded each lovingly, briefly contemplating the question, and to my relief they nodded for me to go on. I think they were both simply amazed, and pleased, I had made it that far without any errors--not counting correct pronunciation, of course--so no need to restart.

They've been coming to my parish now for the last four or five years, but I still don't know their last names. I don't think I ever will, either. Not too much of a surprise when you consider each has 64. And they are to be the first of the 128s for me.

Being a minister, I get to forgo all that mess, and have people simply refer to me as Pastor Bob. Not that I have so many to begin with in any case. Thankfully--all those generations ago--not everyone felt they had to keep all of their names regardless of how many there were. Two apiece was OK, I suppose; although some of the pairings sounded pretty silly--nothing compared to now, of course. But back then some of their kids met others with two, then two turned into four, four into eight, eight into sixteen, and so forth. But, like I said, not everyone carried on with all their names, so sometimes a Two married an Eight, a four with a Thirty-two. And in the cases of divorce or annullment...well, don't get me started... On the plus side, there are some rarities even today who only have one surname. Few can handle the ridicule and persecution however, so I don't run into them very often.

Japan seemed to cut to the chase during The Eights, and they switched over to a barcode tattoo, which either went on their hands or on their foreheads--all up to the individual, usually. But then some of their children didn't want to give up their families' barcodes so instead they combined the two: one in front of the other. And this tradition carried on throughout the Orient, and even spilled over onto some of the Fringe kids in Europe, and a few elsewhere. But it wasn't to prevalent in the West, as there weren't the facilities to handle them with ease--not that the Fringe wanted to be handled in any case. But back in the Orient, what they ended up with were all these bald people with these barcodes circling their skulls, or up and down their forearms.

It was a scanner's nightmare, even with a "START HERE" character clearly marked. All the time, people got dizzy and fell over from spinning in a circle. Old folks' tattoes degenerated and wrinkled making scanning almost impossible at times. So there were always massive line-ups and delays almost anywhere you went. There were rumours and complaints about the scanning batons irradiating people's brains, frying their skin, giving them cancer. Others were wrongly accused, arrested, and sometimes even executed, before their names were properly scanned--all due to someone starting to scan in the wrong spot or losing his place. Not too surprising though, tattoed folk are still around, more due to the government in some ways--they don't want go through all of the expense and red tape to change the system. And so it goes.

Meanwhile, almost everywhere else in the West people had ID cards with their names--however many their were--printed on a microscopic level. Obviously, more scanning problems, but the real problems occurred in simple introductions and interactions, like weddings, for example. Where a typo can mean you don't exist, or missing name can mean you're wanted for murder. But still no one is really interested in returning to the "old ways." Rather some make it even worse wanting to alternate their names with their partner's. Fortunately I was able to steer Steph and Dan away from that, and they agreed to have all of his names first, then all of hers.

The certificates and contracts all signed, I called Steph and Dan over before the congregation... And so here we stand...the ceremony almost over...they look so happy...the honeymoon almost upon them... And I know they want to have children. 256s are on the horizon.

I just have to remember to breathe.

"I'd like to present to you Mr and Mrs Daniel and Stephanie Oakenfold-Sokalofsky-Ellingboe-Clinton-Ngo-Hammersmith-Jones--"

But I'm also glad that I'll be too old to perform any more ceremonies by then.

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