eponymous (adj.): of, relating to, or being an eponym (i.e. one for whom something is or is believed to be named)

I have to be honest: this definition shocked me when I read it, because I’ve only ever heard “eponymous” used as a synonym for “self-titled,” usually in the phrases “their eponymous album” or “her eponymous debut.” But an eponym is any name that is taken from a person, such that Planck’s constant, Caesar salad, and the state of Washington are all eponymous with some real person. This irks me a little bit, because I was planning on appropriating the word to analogize a specific concept that has no real connection to the “actual” definition promulgated by the wordanistas. Well, fuck it. I never liked them anyway.

Many of you, faithful readers, are aware that for years now I’ve had what is probably an unhealthy obsession with things labeled with their own names. I read a mediocre comic strip for years because it featured a bag that said “bag” on it. I once bought a desk-drawer organizer that came with tiny labels to indicate what each compartment should contain, and I put them on all my supplies, such that I had a scissors that said “scissors” and a staple remover that said “stpl rmvr.” I’ve owned not one but TWO shirts that say “shirt” on them — one a home-made number by an ex who knew me far too well, and one a souvenir from a cavern in South Dakota, a cream-tan shirt that had silkscreened on it in capital letters, “RUSHMORE CAVE T-SHIRT.” Score!

Very few people seem to share this obsession with me. Sure, every so often it will crop up in pop culture, like the bag labeled “My Bag” in Wet Hot American Summer, but in general the instances are rare and fleeting. I take some comfort in self referential wordplay like The Michael Showalter Showalter, but it’s just not the same.

Which is why, a while back, I came up with the idea to start a store that sells only things with their own name on them. It’s a natural progression: if no one is going to make me a coffee mug that says “MUG” or a desk lamp that says “DESK LAMP,” then dammit, I’m going to make them myself and provide for my people, wherever they may be. (And I know they’re everywhere, they’re just hiding from me. Consider this your clarion call, fellow self-referents.) The problem with this idea, though, is that at some point the proprietor (YHN) has to compromise his integrity to keep the business afloat. Consider: I would naturally have to name the store “Store,” and anyone who would ever shop there would understand immediately. But the awning would have to read “AWNING,” the windowpane would have to say “WINDOWPANE,” the Yellow Pages ad could only be “YELLOW PAGES AD,” and soon the whole thing has gone to shit. How am I supposed to sell enough cheap plastic Chinese bullshit with its name on it to stay afloat if I can’t even market the store?

The moral of the story is that nothing ever works and all ideas are failures.