Beware the Scott Nazis

It’s fun to type your name into Google, and it’s only slightly less fun to type your name into the address bar of your browser, followed by a .com or .net to comply with the standards of hypertext transfer protocol. Today, I typed in scott.com to see what would happen, and I found The Scott Page, a compendium of people and businesses on the internet named Scott! People and businesses like me!

The site, which also serves as the web page for Scott Web Services, features listings of businesses named Scott, people with the first name of Scott, and people with the surname of Scott. The site invites users fitting into one of these categories to submit their web site to the listings. Naturally, I felt up to the task, and looked forward to adding myself to the ever-growing taxonomy.

That was before I realized that the collective of Scott-named persons was a close-minded, cultish conglomeration. It all became apparent in the Scott People Page Request section, which greets you once you’ve decided to add your name to the Scott People Page list. The rules start out simple enough:

• To be considered for The Scott People Page, you must have a personal web page. Scott businesses are listed on The Scott Page.

La dee dah! Simple enough. Check!

• Your personal web page must mention your full Scott name. If your page doesn't mention your Scott name, it is not a Scott People Page and your submission will be rejected. The links featured here go to someone's web page where you see a Scott name on it! That's what makes cruising The Scott People Page so much fun!

O…kay…

• You must have your own page. You can't use a page you share with non-Scott people.

“non-Scott people”?

• Your first or last name must be spelled "Scott". Other spellings are not allowed.

Suddenly I doubted whether I wanted to belong to such an exclusive club. No longer a common space for even those whose names *sounded* like “Scott,” The Scott Page revealed itself to be a place of fear-driven isolation. In a way, I felt guilty that I and my home page fit so neatly into the site’s well-defined category of perfection. I wished to be an outsider, but could only offer stale gray conformity.

In the end, I signed up regardless of my feelings, joining the ranks of those proud to be named “Scott,” and not “Scot,” “Skott,” or “Jim.” Though barely perceptable, a tiny part of my soul has withered to nothing. Hello. My name is Scott.

» Related: a man all too happy to be named Scott