As we humans struggle to make sense of these post-millennial times, identity crises have reached unprecedented heights. Some of us simply do not know who we are; others know quite well, yet desperately pretend otherwise. From this compost heap of confusion springs the “name change.” In the past, people relied on crude formulas that haphazardly tossed street names, monikers of dead pets, and mothers’ maiden names into a strange linguistic mélange, supposedly creating a “porn name.” Though my own “Sparky Cobb” was quite adequate, the whole process was a bit unwieldy and unscientific. Thankfully, along with such anxieties, the turn of the millennium also brings us new technology, and more specifically, a number of cutting-edge Web sites ready to assist us in generating paramount sobriquets.

Have you always wanted to play hockey, but declined because your name sounded too wimpy? If so, the Hockey Name Generator (www.maximonline.com/sports/hockey_name/) is a site you should really check out (pun fully intended, apology wholly sincere). Simply type in your feeble first and last name and choose one of three nationalities (Canadian, French-Canadian, or Russian) known for its hockey prowess. The French-Canadian option yielded my finest name, Poutine La Benjaminieux, though I am not positive how high it ranks on the manliness scale. Nonetheless, even with a first name that sounds like a private part, I could probably still help the Bruins win.

Next is the Rock Star Name Generator (www.mp3.com/rockstarname), which helps one come up with a name adequate for stardom. My alternative rock name was Emo Sensitivo, which suggests an interesting amalgam of post-punk and salsa -- what Jets to Brazil should sound like. My heavy metal name was Riff McNasty, which, obviously, absolutely rules. However, such names lack a personal touch -- and the site requires your e-mail address before it will grant you entrance. But I discovered an easy way around this: fakename@hotmail.com, if you catch my drift.

Finally, we have the crown jewel of the Internet name providers, the Wu-Tang Name Generator (www.recordstore.com/cgi-bin/wuname/wuname.pl). This site has been making the rounds in the hipper identity crisis circles for a while now. And for good reason -- the names here are incredibly odd and abstract, easily rivaling “real” Wu-Tang names such as Ghostface Killa and GZA. My name was Cheeky Delinquent, which is passable, but far from the best gangsta pose the site has to offer. Names generated for my co-workers include Masta’ Cow, Inscrutable Drama Queen, Budget Nudist, and Vangelic Surgeon. Interestingly, when I typed in my name as “Old Dirty Bastard,” it came up with “Superintendent God-Botherer.”

 One major threat from these services is that we might pull a Sean Combs and discard a perfectly respectable fake name (Puff Daddy) for a lesser appellation (P-Diddy). Or, even worse, our behavior might begin to echo our fake names; yesterday, I took an exam on Colonialist Literature in a Riff McNasty mindset and I think my score may’ve suffered. Incorporating these names around the office, though, can really liven things up. I just asked the office intern, “100-Watt Warlock” to scan some photographs and — for the first time ever — she laughed rather than scowled.