What happened when I Googled my own name

This story probably isn’t relevant to you, but I need to say it anyway. If you need a description I guess this is something like a book review, but the gist of it is that I Googled myself recently and I honestly regret it.

I had been browsing Reddit for a while (too long), to the point where my conscience told me “I should be doing homework.” I would have, but then I heard another, more fun voice saying, “That sounds awful; let’s do anything else that doesn’t require moving immediately.”

So I went with Option Two. Let’s Google our name? Why not?

Okay … Uh-huh … Yeah, that’s me in the sixth grade. There’s my old profile picture. What’s this guy? Lets click on this one.

Just to clarify, I didn’t hit “I’m feeling lucky,” or search anything besides my name: Adam Elwell.

This site takes me to an e-book titled “The book of Adam, An Autobiography of the First Human Clone.”

Interesting title, right? So I scroll through the first page until I see it buried in a paragraph – my full legal name – Adam Michael Elwell.

So, at this point I’m thinking, Great, this is a thing now. I really needed that. But… I still have to read it ? What if I’m the first human clone? I know it’s not going to happen. There’s no way. It’s just stupid to think about.

BUT – isn’t this how every absolute-reality-type science fiction starts?

Of course I’m going to follow the white rabbit, who wouldn’t?

Oh God! Oh God! Let me out. Nope. Un-unh, not doing it.

You’re being ridiculous. Just read the book. Okay, I’m rational, I’m comfortable, and I’m going to read this book.

It was just a jolly ’ol tale.

The Antichrist-baby themes were a real pick-me-up on the first few pages and it just got better from there. On occasion, the prose is just awkward enough so that I can zone out of it, but then it always gets me with that one-two combo of referencing a human clone and my full name, back-to-back.

Now, a cloned, second-grade Adam is talking about writing letters to his clone, and how receiving them from the original Adam is kind of like having pen pals forever.

Oh my God. Oh My God!!!

What if I’m a clone, and this is my predecessor writing to me? What does that make this column?

No, it’s cool. I didn’t really need to sleep tonight anyway.  I might as well stay up, Duchovny and Anderson are sure to pop out, right?

I’m only three-quarters of the way through the book, and I’m actually past sarcasm at this point. This chain of abuse starts between generations of clones. The previous generation is usually grown up when the first one croaks, so then they’re awful to that next generation’s clone.

Then there’s this long Machiavellian power struggle over the cloning corporation that – get this – the two original clones founded, but are now fighting for control to make sure the other can’t clone themselves again. The first, real Adam married into power; when he cloned himself his wife started asking the infant clone some seriously creepy questions to see if he could remember his previous life (he can’t).

After overthinking a four-year-old’s babbling, his wife kills herself assuming she will come back with her memory intact, and is cloned. After that, her clone is a stalker-esque, though pitiful, character for the rest of the novel. Did I mention the cult yet? Oh yeah, there are cults revolving around cloning, the first clone, specifically. Which, again, is my name.

I’m now invested in this. Guess I have to finish it.

I guess the moral of this story is, stay off the Internet, kids.

Advocate Staff