Every year some survey of baby names is released and we all freak out. Because every boy is named Jayden, or there are too many girls named after the characters in Twilight, etc. This name panic is mostly an instinctual fear of change, and a social anxiety about obsolescence, that we’d be wise to ignore if we can, for our own sanity’s sake. And really, who cares what people are naming their kids, even if the names seem very silly to us?

But there are some instances when it is very hard to not react with anger. Here is one of those instances. The Web site BabyCenter has released its 2015 baby-names survey, and contained within the data is evidence of a troubling trend: people are naming their babies after Instagram filters. Yes, per a BabyCenter press release today, “Many of Instagram’s filter names are gaining in popularity as baby names including Lux (up 75 percent since 2014), Ludwig (up 42 percent), Amaro (up 26 percent), Reyes (up 10 percent), Hudson (up 4 percent), and Kelvin (up 3 percent) for boys. Additionally, Valencia (up 26 percent), Juno (up 30 percent), and Willow (up 13 percent) are on the rise for girls.”

So, that’s horrifying! I mean, who uses a stupid little thingy with a nonsense name to alter a picture to make their life look prettier or sexier or more exciting, and then thinks, That’s what I’m gonna name my baby? Plenty of people, apparently! We don’t know exactly how many people are doing this—the survey just gives us the percentage of the gain, not the actual numbers—but it is happening in some capacity. Though, why aren’t there more babies named Clarendon, or Perpetua, or X-Pro II? Wouldn’t you love to meet some precocious little shit named Nashville? If we’re going to start using Instagram filters as names, we really should be using all the filters.

Of course, we should not be using Instagram filters to name our children. Such an act flies in the face of our heritage as a civilized species. But we probably can’t stop it from happening either, no more than we could have stopped the terrible rise of Riley, the dawn of Caden, the age of Bailee and Madison. They were inevitable, the sea change could not be reversed, and so we resigned ourselves to them, just as we eventually must for Kelvin and Valencia. And then, after that, babies named Regram and Fav and R.T. Someday, adults called T.F.W. and Goals. (As in, Chief Justice Goals Efron.) Naming evolves—trends emerge, die out, reflourish. The days of Gertrude and Ethel, Clyde and Mortimer may be in the past, but they will probably come back at some point in the distant, mysterious future. All we can do is ride the wave, and hope we raise our children to live up to whatever name they’re given.

That said, if some kid named Ludwig or Reyes so much as looks at me in a Brooklyn cheese shop or wherever the hell kids like that are going to be found, I’m calling up the orphanage and having them taken away on the spot. They’re free to exist, these crassly named children, but I don’t want ’em around me. So, congratulations on your new twins, Rose Gold and HyperWalk, but I don’t want to meet them.