I've been asked often enough where my chosen name comes from. Here's the complete and unabridged story.

Spring, 1996. I'm a sophomore in college, and I've just gotten through a year with a roommate I didn't quite get along with. So when the housing lottery comes, I approach my good friends Barry and Kevin, and I suggest that the three of us sign up for one of the quads. The only problem is if they stick us with a fourth roommate. Remembering acquaintances that had successfully scared off roommates, I come up with a (facetious) plan.

"What we do, is the three of us get up at 3:00 in the morning. We dress up in black robes, lean over our roommate, and ask him if he has a chicken."

Inspired by this comment, Barry loans me his alarm clock for the summer. It's the most hideous alarm clock I have ever seen. It's shaped like a chicken with sunglasses and guitar. Rather than a mundane beeping when it goes off, it sings, "Heeeyyy! Yeeeaah! Hey baby wake up! Come and dance with me!" (Repeat ad nauseum.) From that time on, the three of us call ourselves "The Minions of the Chicken," and the alarm clock becomes "The Chicken of Doom."

Latter that summer I get ahold of a brand new computer game--Civilization II. In the original Civilization, you got to play the part of a tribe of people and lead them from the stone age to the space age. In Civ II, I'm delighted to find that you could play many more tribes than in the original. I choose the Sioux. The computer asks me to name my leader, and after a few minutes the name just comes to me.

So why do I use that name? Simply because it's silly and nonsensical. When people (especially those in their teens and twenties) choose names, they're too often something painfully "deep" and "meaningful." Case in point: look at the Goths. I wanted something that said, "Hey. I don't take myself seriously." And so I kept it.