How did all this king, queen and royalty stuff start? And why? And when? I’ve been pondering this lately and I am clueless. Thus, when I am in the clueless frame of mind, I try to whomp up some stories on my own. I mean, who’s to say I’m wrong? Likely most people, but still…

Remember the days when one looked up definitions and etymologies in a big book that said “Dictionary” on its front? Me too. But this time I turned to the internet for a definition, because it’s so much easier. I asked the internet what is the definition and/or history of the word “king.” This is the partial answer:

<i>A late Old English contraction of cyning “king, ruler” (also used as a title), from Proto-Germanic *kuningaz (source also of Dutch koning, Old Norse konungr, Danish konge, Old Saxon and Old High German kuning, Middle High German künic, German König). This is of uncertain origin. </i>

So now you know, right? Me either, but it all sounds ever so cerebral. I’m left wondering who decided a kadzillion years ago that one person of their tribe or whatever it was should rule? And why? It sure seems that once people begin to rule others, the real trouble starts — you know, wars and beliefs, religious conflicts and weird causes of all possible sorts.

But pick a ruler the old Neanderthals did, or was that the Troglodytes — no, it must have been the Zhoukoudians — and well, we all know how those guys could be. Anyway, this is how it may have happened.

Perhaps crowds of pre-people from uncountable years ago squatted and squabbled in their caves or trees or wherever and in general fought hard over yak entrails or whatever creature had thundered by and been caught and chomped. Maybe these dark hairy humanoids fought over all sorts of things and not just gobs of leftover slaughter, or maybe they brawled over cave rights or any places they wished to call home. 

So maybe one day in grunt-speak one of the tribe members suggested they have just one person — I’ll say a man, for now — to run the show and settle differences. You know, a caveman geek they’d all choose so they could stop bellowing and screaming chaotically all the time. And thus, the idea of kings began. And so also began all of our troubles.

First, of course, he had to be the wisest guy in the clan, so that was easy. It would be the man who was the fastest at stopping all the conflicts with the quickest smash of his stone ax on the miscreants’ skulls. Next, he had to be decorated appropriately and because everyone was in the 3- to 4-foot height range they likely figured he needed something tall and gaudy on his head so he could be easily seen, and the crown was created. Maybe at first it was just some woven vines with a few alligator tendons under the chin to hold it in place. Then pretty rocks may have been added because diamonds had not yet been discovered, a few bleached broken bones, a string of dried out newt eyes, a few sharp teeth, some fish skeletons and, voila, a crown.

Then it was decided this king dude needed special robes, so they overloaded him with all the skins available, reptile, mammal, fish, bird, whatever, and in their haste to get brownie points for being amongst the first to sacrifice their latest kill. Skins and feathers, perhaps yet to be dried out, so long rivulets of blood and gore would run down their king’s body and legs which only added beauty to his royal bedeckage. 

And so, King Glog was carried to a nice tree-stump-cum-throne, and the clan began to bow and curtsy as they passed, trying to look smaller than their mighty king. And they all brought him many gifts of delectable foods, some even still squirming.

In time, Glog, heady with his new kingship and swooning with greed, decided he wanted to rule and conquer other clans, so he sent out a decree with much thumping and screeching that everyone had to attack other tribes and kill or enslave them and force them to speak Gloglish. And so they did, and as the millennia passed these kingdoms grew. They fought and ate each other and whole nations were created and royal families grew and became obscenely wealthy while their subjects did not. So revolutions were then invented and so were guns and guillotines and — well, we all know what happened from then on, don’t we?  

So maybe it’s good to be the king. But then again, maybe not so much.

LC Van Savage can be reached [email protected].