10 illegal baby names!

Has the pope's secretary synchronised diaries with Victoria and David Beckham? The pontiff's timing is certainly pretty good these days. On the day that the Beckhams confirmed they are expecting their fourth child, he urged parents to give their children Christian names: "Do not give your children names that are not in the Christian calendar".
Studies show that the urge to give children unique names is on the rise. The desire to stand out has caused more and more celebrities to name their child after inanimate objects and cities, from Peaches to Apple to Paris to Brooklyn, Beckham's eldest son. "Me human, you thing" seems to be an important message celebs are keen to pass on to their offspring. And more and more of us common folk are following the trend.
You might have already clocked from my byline that I have a personal perspective on this subject. Based on my own experience, I can prove that it is perfectly possible to survive in the modern world if you are named after a thing: my name, Mercedes Bunz, reminds everyone of a certain Stuttgart-produced marque of car. And to all the kids out there who share my fate, I say: while it is no fun at school, you'll learn to keep an interested face when you hear the same jokes again and again and again. For a conversation starter, it's as good as the weather.
As it happens, I got my name by complete chance, and not a result of a hippy phase in my parents' life. I was born with a different surname and only became a Bunz when my mother remarried. Mercedes, of course, is a perfectly common Spanish name.
What's in a name? Well, quite a lot. The trend for unusual names seems to reflect the values of a society in which it is more important to stand out than to fit in. Parents obviously don't trust their children to stand out on their own terms, and instead feel the need to push them into the limelight, regardless of whether they want to be there or not.
So perhaps the pope has a point. In some countries, including the pope's place of birth, the state goes to some lengths to protect children from overambitious parents. Denmark, Spain, Portugal and Argentina publish lists of acceptable names parents must choose from, Portugal has even banned names, including Lolita, Maradona and Mona Lisa.
The situation is similar in Germany and Austria, the countries in which I grew up. As a statutory duty the first name must indicate the sex of the child, and the name must be a "name", ie not a place or an object. There are ways to trick the state, of course. German parents can refer to celebrity offspring's names in other countries as proof that a certain word is recognised as a name. That way, a former colleague of mine was for instance able to name his child "Berline".
At the same time, sticking closely to the Christian tradition does not immunise children from unusual names. A friend of mine, born under Austria's comparatively strict name-regulation laws, has a very Christian name: Luzifer.
These days, expecting parents should perhaps spend less time browsing the Bible than the net. The Google question is important: should your child be traceable by a search engine, or should you ensure their privacy? Luzifers are easy to find online; Olivers and Olivias, currently the top two places in Britain's annual ranking of baby names, are less so.
Eric Schmidt of Google recently suggested that young people should be entitled to change their identity at some point, to escape a misspent youth. Maybe this would also be a good way to rectify our parents' faux pas. As governments are increasingly storing biometrical data on our passport, maybe they should give us back a bit more flexibility with our names?