I Took the Ancestry.com DNA Test and This Is What I Learned

I am mostly carbon, hydrogen, calcium, nitrogen, and phosphorus. I inflate and nourish myself with oxygen as well. My ancestors, like me, contained trace elements of sulfur, among other things. They may have had more sulfur than me, due to dragons.

I learned that I come from a long line of semen.

I put my results into the Ancestry.com search engine and it immediately sketched out a family tree that linked me to hundreds of strangers. I learned that I have been woefully under-budgeting Christmas.

According to the results, I am 40% from a large land mass, 30% from a smaller land mass inside that land mass which is demarcated by a linguistic difference, 14% from an island large enough for everyone to ignore it’s an island and call it a land mass, and 16% “other.”
I complete 4% of your recommended daily allowance of riboflavin.

I took the Ancestry.com DNA test and I learned that the universe is crude mechanical engine of pistons and wheels, and that we are all the detritus from collisions, and that we contain multitudes that have not yet been grasped by microscope or telescope, and that my particular human body is 37.2 trillion cells that could just as easily belong to someone else, and that I, like my ancestors, have a tendency toward alcoholism.

The paper says that I am brave and loyal, and that my last name means “champion of the holly bush.” I pair well with Aquarius and red wine.
All of human history has culminated in my person. Every decision, every thought, every action, every fuck — all of it has led to me. This is not true of the other people who took this test. Their results were more pedestrian and disappointing. The CEO of Ancestry.com emailed me directly to emphasize how special I am. For $49.99 more, I can get a report on how my divine combination may have come to pass, and what prophecy it fulfills. I’m considering it.

I learned that I am completely and utterly Black so my uncle should stop being such a racist.

These papers are filed with my birth certificate (which, incidentally, is a short form copy of a copy), should I need to produce them at a Senate hearing or the DMV. I feel a sense of peace at finally knowing myself on an intimate level that could never be achieved by mere library research or lonely contemplation. I will retrieve these papers on my birthday and read them again, top to bottom, to reassure myself that I exist and have antecedents, that I was wanted and carefully manufactured by a global cartel of lovers, and finally that I am not, in any way whatsoever, related to Donald Trump.