Will Self has declared war on Tims ("Your life chances will be constrained, should your otherwise risk-averse parents have the temerity to 'Tim' you," the author says in this week's New Statesman, in a rare outbreak of using words normal people understand), but this is nothing new to me. Ever since my early 20s I've found it to be a name under constant attack.

I remember picking up a copy of Vice magazine about a decade ago and seeing a picture of an unbelievably wet guy in a knitted rainbow-coloured jumper making a balloon animal at a children's party. The caption underneath said simply: "Congratulations: You've just made a Tim."

Oooof. Those words still hurt. And ever since I've hoped that someone would come along to resurrect the name. Charlatans singer Tim Burgess had a decent go at it for a while. He told me recently: "I always used to think that my name wasn't cool enough for a frontman, so I like to think I've done well to change that concept." He also mused about calling his second book Tim Book 2, which is – I'm sure you'll all agree – a genius title (although he never did respond to my equally genius quip: "Where did you get that title? Tim Pun Alley?").

It is strange to see Tim under attack when there are some impressively cool bearers of the name: acid-fried counter culture guru Timothy Leary, for example, or rap evangelist Tim Westwood.

"I don't have no issues with the name of Tim," Westwood told me last year. "It's what I was christened with. I don't have no issues with you being called Tim either. There's room for more than one Tim in this game."

And yet there seems to be a thinning out of Tims in recent years, the name growing ever less cool despite the Canute-like efforts of Burgess and co. We're becoming a land that Tim forgot.

Self's column is about his hatred of JD Wetherspoon pubs and he's clear about why they're so bad – the person who came up with the idea was called Tim (Martin). It's not just pubs that would be better if only they were designed by someone called something other than Tim: Self goes on to claim that the likes of Tim Henman have been hampered in life by their Timness. No doubt Henman would have gone on to win Wimbledon had he only been called Steve. Self even wonders if the abuse of Tims (he used to shout "Timmy-Timmy-Timmy" at one unfortunate Tim) is on a par with racism, sexism or homophobia. Tim-ism, perhaps.

He concludes that it's probably not quite at that level, but the more I think about it, the more I can come around to this theory. It makes me realise that I've been oppressed all this time, and yet have still somehow thrown off my shackles and risen to the giddy heights of being able to write blogs about being called Tim for the Guardian. If I wasn't called Tim, and therefore didn't have to face the daily prejudice against my name, who knows what I might have achieved? A line of bestselling novels? A mantelpiece stuffed with Pulitzer prizes? Almost certainly. And if you doubt my words then have a look at your own name before you criticise. Because if you're not called Tim then you really need to check that privilege.