The Horrible History of Brother K'Bob
It occurs to me that I have'n't really explained to the readers of Meet the Geeks how I came to have the name Brother K'Bob.
Are you interested dear reader?
Can you handle the truth? Strange and terrifying as it may be?
I hope you can. Here we go.
It all started in November 1996. It was the opening weekend for Star Trek: First Contact and I had been invited by a friend (at the time) to go meet up with the KAG group that was on hand for the premier. It was at this time that I met the Captain of that ship, Kull of House Jev, later known as Doug, who little did I know would become my nearest and dearest friend and would stand as my best man at my wedding 19 years later. But that is a dark tale for another time.
It was the last of the truly interactive premiers that I would attend where the audience was totally immersed in the film. It was probably also the last of the truly great Star Trek movies (sorry J.J.).
After a few meetings and my eventual acceptance into the group I was asked what I would like for a Klingon name. Not being of terribly original mind at that time I stated simply:
"Bob. Bob the Klingon."
"K'Bob?"
"Sure."
I had no idea what I would be releasing with that utterance. Like a curse, once spoken, it could not be taken back. It ran forth to cause havoc on the world. Like Victor Frankenstein I had created my own monster, my own nemesis, my doom.
Ok. Perhaps a bit melodramatic. But it would continue to shape my world for the next two decades.
Eventually the group would implode but I would continue to be known as a Klingon among Winnipeg fandom for years. A pair of red pajamas emblazoned with Klingon Tre-foils would be my armor, ever present on Saturday evenings at Keycon until they started to fray (like my sanity) and turn pink. They were eventually retired and have yet to be replaced.
I would later join a online Klingon forum, which shall remain unnamed, where I met a fellow Klingon who seemed to be cut from the same cloth. Kahn of House Klag. Immediately we knew we had found someone who would understand and I was quickly invited to join his house, becoming K'Bob of House Klag.
For whatever reason I've always been interested in religion while roundly denouncing it. However it was John (Kahn) constantly calling me brother (I called him Cap'n) that helped shape something of K'Bob's background.
I decided that K'Bob was a disillusioned cleric from Boreth who, following the events of ST - TNG "Rightful Heir" and from the novel Kahless by Michael Jan Friedman, decides to forge out on his own, preaching his own views on Kahless, removed from the corruption of the High Clerics, and seeks out adventure. One day he stumbles into the house of Klag, drunk on bloodwine, and loudly announces "I live here now!" before passing out in the wine cellar. Kahn, and other members of the house just shrugged their shoulders and accepted this new arrival.
The story really isn't that far from the truth.
In my mind K'Bob is part Hunter S. Thompson, part Kane from Kung Fu.
So here I now sit, writing out this strange tale, one that is'n't yet over, and look forward to my future with my alter-ego. It's been a ride so far and shall continue to be.
― Hunter S. Thompson, The Proud Highway: Saga of a Desperate Southern Gentleman, 1955-1967
Are you interested dear reader?
Can you handle the truth? Strange and terrifying as it may be?
I hope you can. Here we go.
It all started in November 1996. It was the opening weekend for Star Trek: First Contact and I had been invited by a friend (at the time) to go meet up with the KAG group that was on hand for the premier. It was at this time that I met the Captain of that ship, Kull of House Jev, later known as Doug, who little did I know would become my nearest and dearest friend and would stand as my best man at my wedding 19 years later. But that is a dark tale for another time.
It was the last of the truly interactive premiers that I would attend where the audience was totally immersed in the film. It was probably also the last of the truly great Star Trek movies (sorry J.J.).
After a few meetings and my eventual acceptance into the group I was asked what I would like for a Klingon name. Not being of terribly original mind at that time I stated simply:
"Bob. Bob the Klingon."
"K'Bob?"
"Sure."
I had no idea what I would be releasing with that utterance. Like a curse, once spoken, it could not be taken back. It ran forth to cause havoc on the world. Like Victor Frankenstein I had created my own monster, my own nemesis, my doom.
Ok. Perhaps a bit melodramatic. But it would continue to shape my world for the next two decades.
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| The Original Jammies I don't like competition... |
I would later join a online Klingon forum, which shall remain unnamed, where I met a fellow Klingon who seemed to be cut from the same cloth. Kahn of House Klag. Immediately we knew we had found someone who would understand and I was quickly invited to join his house, becoming K'Bob of House Klag.
For whatever reason I've always been interested in religion while roundly denouncing it. However it was John (Kahn) constantly calling me brother (I called him Cap'n) that helped shape something of K'Bob's background.
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| Photo credit: |
The story really isn't that far from the truth.
In my mind K'Bob is part Hunter S. Thompson, part Kane from Kung Fu.
So here I now sit, writing out this strange tale, one that is'n't yet over, and look forward to my future with my alter-ego. It's been a ride so far and shall continue to be.
“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "Wow! What a Ride!”
― Hunter S. Thompson, The Proud Highway: Saga of a Desperate Southern Gentleman, 1955-1967
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