If you’ve followed recent international news, you likely heard about the civil unrest and governmental crackdowns on pro-democracy demonstrations in the country of Myanmar. If you haven’t been following recent international news, I pray to God that you’re not depending on us to keep you up-to-date on what’s happening around the globe. Lord knows, we already have enough ill-informed people in this country. The last thing we need is for more Americans to get their news from a group of smartasses.

As I was saying, there’s been a lot of news about Myanmar. If you’re a Seinfeld fan like me, you probably first heard of Myanmar when Elaine’s burnt-out boss, J. Peterman, left her in charge of his catalog after running away to live in the jungles of Burma. “You most likely know it as Myanmar, but it will always be Burma to me,” John O’Hurley’s character told her. I couldn’t agree more.

As a member of the South Terrebonne Varsity Quiz Bowl team, one of my “duties” was to memorize world capitals. One of my favorites was Rangoon, the capital of Burma, because it was so fun to say. Try saying it without chuckling. I dare you.

Well, apparently, in 1989, only one year after I graduated high school, some group of a–holes on the other side of the world decided they not only wanted to take over the country but also change its name to Myanmar. While they were at it, they also renamed the hilariously dubbed Rangoon to the less-than-funny Yangon. To add insult to injury, they moved the capital to a place called Naypyidaw.

The nerve of these people! I spent countless hours of valuable time – time that could have been spent making moves on the ladies – in high school engraining this information into my synapses like a traumatic childhood event, and only one year after getting my diploma, they expected me to relearn all this crap?!? What a bunch of inconsiderate jerks.

The folks in Myanmar aren’t the only ones to do this, either. Lots of countries, provinces, and cities have gone through name changes, which only exacerbates the rampant idiocy of Americans with regard to geography.

I first discovered this phenomenon at the age of ten, when my dad took me to see Yul Brynner star as the King of Siam in The King and I at the Saenger Theater in New Orleans. The curious lad that I was, I searched my trusty, topographically enhanced globe for the nation of Siam when I got back home. To my dismay, I couldn’t find it anywhere.

I would later discover that Siam was the previous moniker for Thailand. It was renamed Thailand in 1939, reverted back to Siam between 1945 and 1949, and was finally re-renamed Thailand again. And you thought people around here had a hissy fit when the Public Service Commission changed our area code from 504 to 225.

Cities have been known to change names, too. Arguably, the most famous of these is Istanbul. In fact, in 1990, They Might Be Giants remade the song “Istanbul (Not Constantinople),” which was first recorded by The Four Lads in 1953. While the song mentioned New York was once called New Amsterdam, it understandably omits Istanbul’s lesser known, other previous name, Byzantium. Other than elements on the periodic table, I can’t think of anything that rhymes with Byzantium.

More recently, Bombay, India was renamed Mumbai. Why they did that, I don’t know, other than to perhaps make it harder for the rest of us to pronounce another Asian name. It’s bad enough that my mom had a Mitsubishi for three years and couldn’t pronounce the make of her own car the entire time it was in her driveway.

In fact, I can’t help but think that some names have been changed with the sole intent of making Americans look even more stupid to the rest of the world than we already do. In  1991, Trivandrum, the capital of the Indian state of Kerala, was renamed Thiruvananthapuram, while the name of the South African province Eastern Transvaal was changed in 1995 to Mpumalanga. Maybe we should just invade them and change the names to something easier to pronounce, especially for our current president. That’ll teach them to try to make us look stupid.

To complicate the matter of geographical nomenclature, some places are referred to with different names by different people. Myanmar, for instance, has been recognized by the United Nations by its newest name, but the governments of the United States, United Kingdom, Australia, and Canada still refer to it as Burma. There’s even an explanation for this stance on the U.S. State Department’s website. (Now all we need is a clarification about weapons of mass destruction.)

Similarly, while most of us in the U.S. refer to the group of islands formerly called Formosa as Taiwan, most of the rest of the world refers to it as either the Republic of China or Chinese Taipei. Which name they use typically depends on how much they fear pissing off the people in Beijing, formerly known as Peking.

Then there’s the whole Israel/Palestine thing. All of this reminds me of the barbershop scene in Coming to America when, during a conversation about the greatest boxers of all time, Arsenio Hall’s character explains why he refuses to call Muhammad Ali by his Muslim name: “His mamma call him Clay, I’mma call him Clay.” Well said, Morris.

As confusing as dynamic geographic titles may be, I guess it could be worse. Just imagine if everything with a geographically based name had to be redubbed every time a place got a new name?

For instance, felines of the Persian, Siamese, and Abyssinian breeds would be called Iranian, Thai, and Ethiopian cats, respectively.  Rhodesian Ridgeback dogs would be called either Zambian or Zimbabwean Ridgebacks, depending on whether the canine’s ancestors originated in Northern Rhodesia or Southern Rhodesia. Burmese pythons would still be called Burmese pythons, but only in English-speaking countries. Otherwise, they’d now be Myanmarian pythons.

The Mall of Louisiana would have a store called Mumbai Company, bars would be stocked with Mumbai Gin, and eighteen episodes of Bewitched would require the alteration of Bernard Fox’s character’s name to Doctor Mumbai.

Meanwhile, buildings in the U.S. would be at risk of damage by Taiwanese termites, unless, of course, it’s the United Nations building. In that case, the infestation would simply not be recognized.

One of the most interesting map-altering moves happened in Central Africa after the Belgian Congo gained its independence. Eventually named the Democratic Republic of the Congo, its capital’s name was changed from Leopoldville to Kinshasa in the mid-60s. In 1971, the country itself would become known as Zaire. This was all part of President Mobutu Sese Seko’s effort to “Africanize” the country. Africanizing countries: OK. Africanizing bees: bad.

Then, in 1997, a deathly ill Mobutu fled the country. Rebel leader Laurent Kabila assumed power and summarily discarded the name Zaire, thus reinstating the name Democratic Republic of the Congo. Interestingly, the capital is still called Kinshasa. I guess Mobutu wasn’t all that bad.

I’m actually glad Mobutu changed the names, if only temporarily. I can’t imagine watching footage of Ali and Foreman’s classic 1974 “Rumble in the Jungle” from Leopoldville, Democratic Republic of the Congo.

While I’m at it, I also have to say I’m happy with Thailand’s current name. Think about how unappetizing it would be ordering from a Siamese restaurant. It’s bad enough some folks subconsciously think about household pets when some Asian eateries are mentioned.

I’m sure that other places will also change names in the future. One candidate is Jena, Louisiana. Just like the ExxonValdez got a new name on its bow, Jena could revamp its public image by putting a new name on the town sign above the line, “A Nice Place to Call Home.”

It wouldn’t be unprecedented in recent Louisiana history, either. According to FOX, New Orleans is now known as K-Ville.

Seriously, though, Jena needs to change its name. Even though it’s pronounced like Gina, it’s spelled Jena, which leads people, especially nationally syndicated radio hosts, to pronounce it like Jenna. There’s no telling how many people have gotten into trouble by searching the internet for “Jenna Six” at work and either typed it as such or accidentally searched for “Jenna Sex.”

If they’re lucky, their search resulted in pictures of Jenna von Oy, who played the character Six on the TV show Blossom. If they’re not so lucky, they were probably fired for loading pictures of a previously curvy, famous porn star who recently dropped forty pounds after a nasty divorce and reportedly had a botched vaginoplasty. (And you thought my line about Siamese restaurants was gross.)

If I may be so bold, I would suggest that one other place change its name. For humanitarian reasons, Niger is in desperate need of a new one. Some poor white kid, burdened with the task of doing a report on the African country, is just one errant “G” away from a thorough ass kicking.