Suppose a team of alien anthropologists came to our planet looking for nobility. And suppose they insisted on defining nobility in their own terms. And suppose their notion of dignity and personal value began and ended with names. Looking out across America, and the endless sea of Kyles and Tiffanys and Justins and Megans; what do you suppose they would make of it?

Would this endless parade of random syllables speak to the poetry that drove their inquisitiveness through all the empty galaxies between their home and ours? Would they understand the connection between a child's name and the person it is meant to present? Or would they become mesmerized by the musical gibberish-ness of them all?

Unschooled as they would be in our west European sensibilities, the names of the saints would mean nothing to them. And the occasional use of last names as first names would likely confuse them even more.

Indian Prints Gallery

Would they finally become so unhinged that they hit us with their freeze ray, and walk among our stiffened selves looking for clues? Will they frisk us for ID and stand back regarding us for what makes this one a Samantha or that one a Cody? Will they define the individual quirks that make an Alyssa or Brandon?

After much frustration, they may break into our sacred places and read our ancient texts. And maybe - just maybe - they may find their way to a great library and discover the histories of the American Indian.

Swift Eagle. Brave Bear. Here, at last, they might find names that sing to the illustriousness and glorious expectation of their well-traveled race.

Sitting Bull

Sitting Bull and Kicking Bird. At last they would hear names which spoke in very concrete ways about the beginnings of these persons and, perhaps in more subtle ways, about their hoped for futures.

Was Stick Out Head an indication that the parents expected brave feats of leadership and courage from their offspring or just a sober recording of a troubled birth? And Young Man Afraid Of His Horses - how old did an Indian child have to be before he wasn't afraid of his horses?

Some names were playful like Little Wolf or poetic like Hole In The Day. What level of confidence was necessary to name a baby Left Handed Person? And what did the parents have in mind for their son when they called him Sits Down Clumsily?

What were the rules? And who made them?

By and by these wise aliens might come to celebrate their findings and determine that somehow America got it wrong. Their leader, Sees Far Clearly, might call in all the teams and transmit their written reports back to their superiors at "Friends of Galaxies," the inter-planetary community of beings who know the way. And the decision might come back that our culture was flopped and needed re-flopping. And so they would press the button or throw the switch or turn the crank or chant the chant. Then, sure of their success, they would return to their endless quest among the stars.

And we would wake to find ourselves loose in a society where our office friends would have names like Takes Home Pens and Loves Paper Clips. Our bosses might really be called Stuffed Shirt and Empty Suit. And, at the end of the day, when we took our poor tired selves home, the children might not say "Here come Mom and Dad." They might say "Oh no! It's Hogs The Computer and Gimme The Remote."

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