OH MY GOD I WISH THIS WAS A JOKE · 10:26pm Jul 24th, 2015
You know that feeling you get when your mother asks you if you’re writing porn?
No?
Huh. Just me, then.
Anyway so my mother asked me if I write porn. That happened. It was a surprisingly non-awkward conversation, to be honest—I was talking about the stuff I write, and then she got all squinty-eyed. Then there was this huge, thoughtful pause, and she asked me, verbatim, if I “wrote weird stuff”.
“What do you mean, weird stuff,” I replied, making sure not to tone the question mark because I’m a rebel at heart.
“You know… Not normal stuff?”
“Uh.” A pause so I could frown and think about it. “Well, I guess I can write surreal shit now and then, but I wouldn’t say that I write—”
“I mean stuff like porn. Or, I don’t know. Weird stuff.”
Now, note that she first says “porn”, then says “weird stuff”. Which means that, for her, porn is not something weird to write. Of course, I know this website and so your standards for what is weird and what is not weird are different – I don’t really think writing porn is like a crime or anything. Shit, some of my best friends write porn [1].
[1] I am at least 90% sure that statement turned me into a racist. Social radiation, I bet.
But this is my mother, people. She’s got a really, uh, old-timey set of morals. Of the porn-is-evil-you-shouldn’t-even-know-of-its-existence kind. So for her to be comfortable implying that I might write characters smashing their juicy bodyparts together and yet not daring to specify what the “weird stuff” is? That is… Well, intriguing.
That conversation happened a couple months ago. I told her I write comedies, we laughed, and then we moved on. But, you know, it always nagged me – just what the everloving fuck did that woman think I write for a hobby?
Well. I think I have the answer now.
Okay, so a little background first – I was a fairly stupid kid. I still have the scar on my right eyebrow from the time I headbutted a table. There was no real reason to do so, if I remember correctly – I saw a table, went all HELL FUCKING YEAH and next thing you know it’s two hours later and I’m in the hospital.
That is probably the only interesting part about my childhood I can come up with. I never went through any traumatic events, nor did I talked or cared about grownup stuff. I did read a lot, however, and I had a pretty standard imagination for a kid my age – that is, fucking huge. But yeah, normal kid.
Which makes this next part the most jarring.
See, when I was starting highschool – twelve years old, so still a lil’ kid who wasn’t even allowed to swear in the house – I had this assignment I found yesterday, looking through old papers. I’d completely forgotten it.
It was an essay for chemistry. I guess it happened on the very start of the school year, because the topic I had to write about was as basic as it gets – “How would the world be without Chemistry? How important is Chemistry, then?”
Cute idea. Thinking about it now, I recall the teacher saying stuff like “everything is chemistry” and so and so. Lightbulbs? Chemistry! Eating food? Chemistry! The arousal you feel when you look at that goat? Chemistry! Also, please, don’t come near my children!
So yeah, she was probably expecting shit like “In a world without chemistry, we wouldn’t have aspirin, because it cures your headache with chemical reactions!” and other safe stuff that nobody really cares about. She outright told us to do that. She even gave us examples, for god’s sake, so it was as easy as it could get.
Twelve-year-old-me didn’t see it that way. Fuck no—Twelve-year-old-me saw the theme of the assignment, and said I’m going Huxley on this bitch[2].
[2] Look, I was raised by a man who used to write fanfiction himself. I’ve been a nerd for a long time.
So I take the assignment out of the box and start reading, and immediately realize it’s fiction. “It happened two weeks ago”, it says. “The day where everything changed.”
Well shit, Twelve-year-old-me. That’s an ominous start. Also, I thought I’d written my first story when I was fifteen, but I guess I was wrong? This is weird – I know my memory is bad, but I wrote this just eight years ago, so how come I don’t remember this? It’s clearly my handwriting, so yeah. What a mystery.
“The day where we realized doctors couldn’t heal us anymore, where we could light fires no more. The day where chemistry stopped, and humanity was forever doomed.”
Oookay. On the one hand, I knew fire had something to do with chemistry – points to you, Twelve-year-old-me, I thought you stupider than this. On the other one, this is kind of getting darker than expected. You know the essay is supposed to be a “what if” scenario, right? Not some kind of—
“The third-world-countries were the first ones to fall.”
OKAY WOW HOLY SHIT WHAT.
“No TVs? No medicine? No electricity? That didn’t matter. Humans can survive without that, at least for a while. But with no chemistry, we have no food. The richest parts of the world noticed it hard, how suddenly the food didn’t palliate our hunger, but we were already well-fed. The people in poor countries were already starving, and so when the food stopped working, they all died.”
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME.
THIS IS SOME SOCIAL DARWINIST SHIT.
LIKE HOLY FUCK DID A TWELVE-YEAR-OLD KID SERIOUSLY WRITE THIS CRAP.
I mean, wow. Just—okay well I guess the teacher did say that with no chemistry there’s no food, and so I immediately thought “oh neato death by starvation”. After that I just thought “well the ones who ate the most before shit went down are the ones who have it better” I guess. Little kids can be a little gruesome now and then, but I went and showed this to the teacher. What the fuck.
Like, okay, so this is no big deal for some of you, I guess, but I don’t write this kind of shit by my own so yeah this is uncanny.
Then it gets worse.
“I was in the supermarket when it happened. Suddenly, chemistry stopped working, but our bodies somehow still went on. Maybe it was aliens, maybe it was the government, but the damage was done and we all could feel it. I ran home leaving everything behind, because there was no use buying food anymore.”
Well okay so now there’s a character talking in first person. Nice handwave for the reason why chemistry as a whole stopped working, as well as the body thingy, though.
“I got to my place and saw they were all alive. The baby, my wife, everybody. But they knew we couldn’t survive like this, so we went away, in search of a cure. It was October.”
Uh-huh. October? Weird to give such a detail. I was born in October, so I’ve always liked that month. Guess I just thought giving an exact date was important.
Okay so this is some Walking Dead bullshit or whatever. Twelve-year-old-me uses the whole “journey in search for a cure” theme for an excuse to explain how the world goes by. No fires (again), no batteries (which don’t matter because there’s no TV anyway so why would you want batteries), no plastic, and so on.
But it all pales in comparison of the food thing.
Fucking hell does the story get gruesome here. I explain in high detail just how hungry we are, and how painful it is, but we gotta keep walking because maybe somewhere there’s a cure, “although deep down we know there’s no hope”.
“The baby keeps crying, because it hurts. My wife can’t produce milk anymore, so we can’t feed him – but it wouldn’t matter anyway, as the hunger wouldn’t go away. We can still drink water, so we won’t die as quickly, and it does nothing but expand the misery. The baby won’t let us sleep at night, and that makes us even more weak. Life is slowly slipping out of us.”
Okay, I am fairly sure the whole “baby crying of hunger” thing is too heavy for a little kid to—
“I did what I had to do.”
What.
“Almost two weeks had passed, and we couldn’t go on. The lack of food was bad, but the lack of sleep was worse. It was impossible to keep walking if we couldn’t rest, but the baby just wouldn’t stop crying.”
Wwwwwhat.
“I told my wife, but she wouldn’t understand. She called me a monster, but didn’t have the energy to run away. Deep down she thought the same as me, I saw it in her eyes.”
Okay this is getting scary. What the fuck are you trying to—
“He’s the weakest one. He wouldn’t survive it anyway. It was a miracle he’d survived for this long, but he wouldn’t last, and we were slower because of him. So I waited till my wife was asleep, and then I killed my baby. I put an end to his misery.”
WHAT.
WHAT THE FUCK.
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME THIS IS—I SERIOUSLY WROTE ABOUT A GUY KILLING HIS OWN SON IN COLD BLOOD IN A SCHOOL ESSAY WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME THIS IS SO WRONG IN SO MANY LEVELS HOLY SHIT.
ALSO WHAT THE HELL IS THAT BULLCRAP ABOUT WAITING TILL THE WIFE IS ASLEEP YOU SAID YOU KILLED THE BABY BECAUSE YOU COULDN’T SLEEP FOR FUCK’S SAKE THIS IS JUST—
“There’s no chemistry, so the gun wouldn’t work. I had to stab him instead.”
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.
“Once it was done, I woke up my wife. She cried, but there’s nothing we could have done.
And then I did it.”
WHAT WHAT THE FUCK YOU MEAN “AND THEN I DID IT” ARE YOU SERIOUSLY TELLING ME THIS IS NOT THE WORST THING YOU—
“Chemistry doesn’t work, so we couldn’t eat food. So maybe, I thought, maybe if we ate something like us, something our bodies didn’t need to assimilate, then it could work”
OH MY FUCK.
OH MY EVER LOVING FUCK, TWELVE-YEARS-OLD-ME IS WRITING ABOUT EATING A BABY.
HE IS SERIOUSLY WRITING ABOUT EATING A BABY THIS IS SOMETHING I WROTE, AND THEN I GAVE TO MY TEACHER WHEN I WAS TWELVE YEARS OLD. I WROTE ABOUT EATING A BABY. BECAUSE HE COULDN’T LET PEOPLE SLEEP. I SOLVED INSOMNIA WITH FILICIDE.
“And it worked. Oh, god, it worked, and it made it so much worse.”
YES IT DOES MAKE IT SO MUCH WORSE YOU SON OF SATAN. YOU STILL PLAY WITH DOLLS AND YOUR IDEA OF A CHEMISTRY ASSIGNMENT IS TO WRITE THE BASTARD CHILD OF A MODEST PROPOSAL JESUS CHRIST.
“There was no way she could make it after this. The baby gave us strength, but it was too much, and she died of grief in her sleep. I was on my own, still in search of a cure, but I knew it was useless. I know it’s useless.”
OH HEY NOW THE GAL PAL IS DEAD TOO. DEATH BY GRIEF. FUCKING POETIC, MAN.
“Four days have passed. Today it’s October the 18th.”
Oh. Oh, no.
Oh, fuck no don’t tell me that—
“It’s my birthday.”
OH FUCK ME THIS IS A SELF-INSERT.
THIS IS A SELF-INSERT. I INSERTED MYSELF IN MY CHEMISTRY ESSAY JUST SO I COULD EAT MY OWN BABY. IF I MET A KID LIKE THIS I WOULD DROWN IT IN HOLY WATER AND THEN BURN THE CHURCH JUST TO BE SAFE.
“It’s the first birthday in a long time I’ve been this alone, and I can’t make it. They’re all dead, and even though I did what I had to do, I still have nightmares. I can’t go on. I will join them soon.”
WELL ISN’T THIS JUST THE ICING ON THE FUCKING CAKE.
“The gun still doesn’t work, but I have a knife now. I will kill myself the moment I finish this letter.
Curse you, whoever destroyed chemistry. Curse you, because you’ve killed my family. A world without chemistry can’t work. And now, everybody is dead.
The end.”
OKAY.
OKAY, FUCKING GREAT. “EVERYBODY IS DEAD”. I FINISHED THE FIRST STORY I EVER WROTE WITH THE WORDS “EVERYBODY IS DEAD” AND THEN I KILLED MYSELF.
THIS WASN’T ME BEING EDGY. THIS WAS ME BEING EITHER A FUCKING IDIOT OR THE CREEPIEST KID IN THE STORY OF THE FUCKING UNIVERSE.
WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCK. I MANAGED TO SCAR ME FOR LIFE WITH JUST ONE SHEET OF PAPER EIGHT YEARS IN THE FUTURE, WHY DIDN’T MY TEACHER THROW ACID TO MY FACE THE MOMENT SHE READ THIS.
CHRIST.
I WISH I HAD WRITTEN PORN INSTEAD.
THE WORST THING IS THAT THE TEACHER FUCKING PASSED ME.
I will no longer look at you the same way again.
3266519
3266534
ME NEITHER
Did you at least get a good grade on it?
So...I either wake up at the crack of dawn to an Aragon blog post or, like this one, it's the last thing I read at midnight before I try and get four hours sleep....
JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! HOW AM I MEANT TO SLEEP AFTER READING THAT ARAGON?? TELL ME HOW?!
I'm going to dream about people eating babies now and if my dreams weren't fucked up enough!
Still made me giggle out loud though to the point I had to bite the duvet!
One little niggle...you know I have a thing for typos...
Goodnight...don't let baby eating adults bite!
Well... 12 year old me once wrote a story from the perspective of Lewis and Clark's dog. It included graphic a graphics description of Sacagawea giving birth. Something along the lines of "It was the weirdest thing! She freaking pooped out a tiny human that was covered in blood and weird juices and stuff!". There were other things, but I thought that was the highlight of the story. Needless to say my teacher thought it was hilarious and well written.
The downside was that she was going to read her favorites to the class, but before doing so she said "Unfortunately one of them included some mature content so I won't be reading that." Then she gave me a "really kid?" kind of look.
It was great!
But yeah. That's... I guess the twelve year old mind for ya.
Okay, so maybe I laughed a bit too hard...
But man did your twelve year-old self write some gruesome stuff.
3266519
Well, knowing how teachers work, there's a good chance that she didn't actually read it. Which would definitely be for the best.
And I do remember that back when I was around that age, I had friends who liked to tell those awful "dead baby" jokes, so I'm not entirely surprised that a 12-year-old could come up with something like this.
3266519
....well you did show a world without chemistry...
Also that made me laugh so hard I cried. So not a joke, I'm still giggling like a fucking idiot.
Oh hell, I laughed way too hard at this.
Oh fuck. Seriously? This is the best BAD thing I've heard about! I'm rolling!
Betchya your teacher made this into a thing. Oh yes - track her down and ask her "Hey, remember this?" and she'll be all "Oh yeah, I've shown a copy of that to every class I've had since you were in my class! I award extra credit to anyone who can do better."
Because let's face it...if she passed you, then she enjoyed it. And who doesn't like the idea of chemistry eating babies?
...hm, I think there are some men in white coats knocking on my door. 'Scuse me.
Readind the "fic":
Reading your comments:
3266519 Just got a stamp and pressed an A.
Probably felt that you were going for something like the Lottery.
Or something spiritual was meant to be passed.
I don't know.
He/she tried to find meaning where there wasn't really any meaning.
3266519
That actually strikes me as a fairly awesome and imaginative essay. I would have passed you too.
3266519
He probably thought you were going to grow up as some twisted genius and thought to himself "Yeah... I should encourage this kid to do more."
Man, you do this kind of stuff to break the editor in me, don't you? I always read to the end of the quote, internally debate whether correcting you would be dickish or not, decide against it, then read the second part.
3266519 Hey, good job, man! You could be a chemist!
My first story was when I was about 8 and I wrote something about some buildings coming alive and fighting or something. I honestly barely remember. It was a picture book.
I most likely would have written the most boring essay ever, from other's points of view, about how atoms wouldn't bond together, and bonds that already existed would fall apart, therefore everything would literally vaporize into elemental gas.
I wrote something demented for a creative writing assignment in High School, too— it was basically Willy Wonka (the original movie) gone horribly awry. Basically, instead of "all the kids are returned to normal when they leave the factory," the oompa loompas eat all of the kids, and kill all of the parents and put them in the treats. My teacher thought I was deranged, but she let me read it out loud to the class... she gave me a freakin' A+, saying I "really struck a chord with my classmates."
I wish I could find the damn thing.
I can't stop laughing!
OH THANK GOD. When I was still in primary school I wrote a comedy where some dude got blown to smithereens in graphic detail. Like, that was the comedy. Him getting minced. Then I read it out to the class. To be fair, they seemed to find it funny too. Then I showed it my mother. Thaaat didn't go so well.
Still, woo! I'm not the only one! I FEEL LIKE I BELONG.
(I still feel bad for making puppets out of the organs in dissection class, though)
I scoff at this. You are horrified by this silly little thing?
You wrote a story where two horses did nothing but crush other horses with a statue of a dolphin having sex with yet another horse for multiple chapters!
You wrote a story where one of those two horses committed mass child murder while driving a train that was, oh yeah, on fire!
It's not ever that weird how a twelve-year-old wrote this, seeing as I would have wrote something quite similar were I in your shoes.
Like really, the things I wrote were the talk of the town back in Elementary School.
I would be horrified, except that I'm pretty sure I'm just as bad. What fun is there in being sane anyway? All the interesting people are crazy. Case in point: name one mentally stable pony.
3266851 Dang it, I was going to say that!
3266940
Maud!
Stable as a... uh. I'm sure there's an appropriate comparison here. Give me a minute.
This was a hillarous read. I want to see you write more absurdist dark comedies.
Eating your own baby to survive in the apocalypse? Classical Aragon story I'd say
. Okay not exactly.
But all joking aside, look at your fanfics, and then look me in the eye and tell me that's not weird stuff.
3266969 The mare that keeps a rock for a pet and feeds it cornflakes? Who is apparently incapable of showing emotions, or doing anything not rock related? She's totally mentally sound.
Oh man. I'm going to be breaking out into mad cackling giggles for the next 24 hrs, making me look as insane as you clearly were.
The madness is contagious.
Oh my gosh! That is just...
3266519 And here I couldn't even make mere allusions to Hannibal Lecter without getting suspended. I envy you.
3266940 Maud.
3267134 You're second person to say that. Here's my argument: 3267023
Maybe I should have been more careful with my wording. "Stable" does kind of imply Maud, even if that's not what I meant.
3267146 What? Rocks need to eat.
3267170 Clearly, you're a little crazy yourself.
Trying to beat my own challenge, what about Cheerilee? Can you think of any reason to doubt her sanity? Do you think teaching Diamond Tiara and the CMC in the same class is justification enough to disqualify her?
3267196 I actually think Discord is the most sane there. He actually understands how crazy everything is, so he is so sane it became insane.
3266932 Oh dear. Oh no. And we read that stuff willingly and laughed!
What the ever loving FUCK Aragon?! I'm surprised the teacher didn't ask to move to a different class after reading that essay!
But you got a huge laugh out of me, so congrats! Still, twelve year old Aragon, what the hell were you thinking?!
*very serious face*
I'm shocked. Shocked and disgusted. You've written some pretty weird stuff, and I know you were only 12 and probably didn't know better, but still. I had thought better of you.
...seriously, a self-insert? I suppose it's for the best you grew out of that horrible habit. Self-inserts are the worst.
You remind me of how this teacher reacted after I handed in a story about an old general that defends a stronghold by using remote controlled mines. The teacher apparently didn't quite agree with an old man who could calmly make the ocean explode under some invaders' boat and then calmly continue to plan what to eat for dinner.
Is there something going on with fimfiction at the moment?
I can't find the button to upvote this story.
3267576 If you ponify that story I'll totally read it. Stories about insane amounts of disconnect are right up my street.
I was told to write an example of chemical change in 7th grade and was marked down for writing "purifying the Jews with fire".
3266519
I was going to ask. Heck, the teacher may have been secretly wishing for this kind of thing. After all, if she made the point about the omnipresence of chemistry...
Well, it isn't likely, but she did pass you.
...
Best story ever!!
3266519
They probably were scared of being eaten. Because holy fuck that was disturbing as hell.
My version of the initial conversation:
"MrNumbers, do you write porn?"
"No, Mum."
"Maybe you should. You'd make some fuckin' money that way."
"God DAMN it Mum."
Really.
But hey, I didn't write about dead babies.
3267913
Sorry, but no can do. That story's background was that climate change had turned Florida and the Yucatan peninsula into shallow seas, and relied on MILSPEC iPads, shaped charges and intelligent sensor networks. Heck, the old man got warned of the attack while he was having a relaxing stroll through his algae fields, twenty feet underwater. Basically, the story relied on real-world futurology, and adapting it into MLP would deem it unintelligible.
3268297 Ah, well. Still a funny premise though ;)