Noticed this gem from M. John Harrison over at the Night Shade space opera discussion from a couple of weeks ago:

Naming of this kind seems to me to be an aggressive act, one that serves the commercial, professional, academic and psychological agendas of the participants. My feeling is that if this kind of naming is inevitable, then I’m damned if I’m going to be co-opted without a struggle. I had enough of being a movement footsoldier in the 1970s.

Not that I feel that strongly about it. But I am kind of glad none of the candidate names for the movement that may or may not exist (and that I may or may not be a part of) seems to have caught on, with the possible exception of notorious style monkeys — which, for the record, I consider a purely descriptive term rather than a tribal boundary marker.

(Meanwhile, the outline for the Planetary Romance has cleared 9000 words and most of the major plot hurdles: the star-crossed lovers are reunited, the surviving Buddhist monk has hooked up with the veteran revolutionary, the rogue trader, and the monarchist POWs, while the oligarchy’s secret policeman has joined forces with the con artist and co-opted the interstellar conglomerate. Now I just need to figure out the monarchy’s motivations for using their dirigible-borne bicycle paratroopers in a diversionary attack on the oligarchy’s launch site, so that the anarcho-syndicalist agents provocateurs can help the monk escape the conglomerate’s orbital defenses and reach the ruins left by the ur-civilization in the outer solar system.)