Monster Frogger Doger, raving
Thank you, my good people!
Last week, I asked for help choosing a catchy nickname for myself during my election campaign. Since then, ideas have come pouring in.
In fact, you provided more than nicknames: You provided ideas and direction. This, my good people, is exactly what my campaign needed.
The first nickname suggestion was among the most creative: Froggers. This idea, from a former Beaconite, is derived from my e-mail address, frogers@bvibeacon.com.
As the ex-Beaconite pointed out, the name seems likely to appeal to people in their 20s and 30s who used to play the video game Frogger. In this game, you control a frog hopping across a busy street, dodging cars and trucks.
In other words, playing Frogger is a lot like crossing the street in Road Town. Which, in turn, is a lot like Virgin Islands politics. So the name seemed to work on two levels.
A hard blow
The next suggestion was a serious downer. A reader who identified himself as a “Lover of the BVI” wrote in an e-mail, “Mr. Rogers I think your name should be Roger Doger and get out of town.”
This was painful: Here was someone who clearly didn’t appreciate all my hard work and good ideas. For a couple days, I felt very depressed. I even considered throwing in the towel, and resigning my candidacy.
But then something occurred to me: A good leader can work with anyone. If I could somehow incorporate the reader’s suggestion, I thought, maybe I could win him over.
This was easier said than done. At first, I assumed he had intended to write the word “dodger,” not “doger,” in the message. And that seemed like a pretty silly campaign nickname, considering how close it is to “dodgy.”
It didn’t help when I looked up “doger” online. It means cigarette, according to the Online Slang Dictionary. As in, “Yo, I need myself a doger real bad.”
This was even worse. Though it might appeal to a few rebellious young voters, smoking is not particularly popular in the VI.
So I considered another part of the message. “Get out of town,” I decided, might make a decent campaign slogan. After all, if I do get elected, it would probably be very good advice for everyone.
‘The Beacon’
Fortunately, other suggestions were much friendlier. One of the Beacon’s Facebook friends provided several ideas that restored my pride in my candidacy: “The Beacon,” “The Patriot,” “The Informer” and “The Man with the Truth.”
My father had a suggestion, too: “The Cool Cat Ex-Pat.” This one was tempting because it includes both rhyme and alliteration, but I wondered if it would be wise to highlight the fact that I’m an expatriate, and thus ineligible to run for office.
Another strong nickname suggestion made me reconsider: “Nobody’s Uncle.” This idea actually stresses a major advantage of my status as an expatriate: I have no relatives who might get special treatment.
Another enterprising reader suggested an alias and a slogan: “The Freedom Fighter: I’ll free you from overspending, secret contracts and consultants!” This sounded great, but I wondered if it would hinder me from benefitting personally once I’m in office.
Ultimately, the only nickname suggestion that I rejected was “GOD,” which was posted by another Facebook friend. After careful consideration, I decided that I’d rather not get struck by lightning at my first campaign rally.
Another idea had nothing to do with nicknames, but it was pure genius.
“Register with The Official Monster Raving Loony Party, though it will be hard to emulate the success of Screaming Lord Sutch,” a reader wrote on Facebook.
I had no idea what this meant, and wondered if the poster was raving loony. Then I discovered that the OMRLP is a real political party in the United Kingdom, started in 1983 by a musician known as “Screaming Lord Sutch.”
Mr. Sutch has since died, but the party continues to offer candidates for office. Its 2010 manifesto included several clever proposals, such as:
• “We propose to ban Self Responsibilty [sic] on the grounds that it may be dangerous to your health;” and
• “The speaker in the House of Commons will be replaced by the latest audio equipment.”
This was my bag. Sadly, the party doesn’t have a branch in the Virgin Islands. I would have joined anyway, but it costs £9.99. Though this price comes with a free “loony badge” and other stuff, I was pretty sure the Beacon’s expense department wouldn’t be pleased.
So I’ve decided I’ll run either as an independent or create my own political party.
Nicknames
Ultimately, even after considering all the great ideas suggested by my loyal supporters, I still couldn’t decide on a nickname.
Then I had an epiphany: Why stick with one alias when you can have many?
Therefore, my good people, you can expect to hear literally dozens of catchy nicknames throughout my campaign.
And yes, I’m open to sponsorships.
So when you head to the polls next month, vote for Freeman “Digicel” Rogers! Then get out of town.