With your permission, the 10,000th generation of human beings to leave the planet (which, be- fore noted, is yet another means of calculating “Genesis”) wandered out onto the cliff on the far horizon of Mars, where they met up with tens of thousands of redheads for a psychedelic, chemical-free, extraterrestrial sleepover.
That’s the story of the 10,000th person to leave the planet, as laid out in The A.D.U. Experiment: The Story of a Nuclear Messiah (Quirk Books), a new book by amateur scientist, an A.D.U. founder and former sperm donor, Geoff Tyas. At the time of his birth in 1992, Tyas was a stillborn from a cesarean section induced by pregnancy with a blocked uterus. A few days before the birth, his mom sat her growing son down for a midwife massage. Around this time, “they happened to be giving a lecture about how their system is ‘different’ than ours,” he writes. “I remember getting so excited about this I’ve never stopped talking about it ever since.”
The 50-page memoir is about as far from a “remake” as you can get: Tyas and his dear friends burned their lab coats to make it easier to find the right samples (no biochemistry can be done with paper), and he retold his story in the style of a old TV show (think Monty Python’s Flying Circus meets Andrew Marvell’s Poem 40) so others could follow in his footsteps. The result is an accessible primer in the history and science of A.D.U. and one of the coolest books I’ve read since I met Tyas last April.
The A.D.U. Experiment offers a history of this be- forementioned religion, an explanation of the failure to explain infertility to humans through biology alone, and a road map to the future of it and other religion-based families, such as the Halo tribe, which keeps the Genesis origins alive with lineage proof. Tyas, a Melbourne-based graphic designer and author, is just one in a recent trend of books like Return of Oz , wherein an emerging generation of young people want to know more about their biological background and the way that it influences their experience in life, as well as something from the Genesis library on a more conceptual level.
Without using a computer and with a scattershot approach to telling his story, Tyas achieves a brilliant synthesis of A.D.U.’s history. The book is lucid, beautiful, whimsical and funny. Tyas’s interest in The A.D.U. Experiment was partly a personal quest to prove he, the unpublished, misnamed baby of a dead woman, was not the 2,000th signer of the Bible, as others reported; partly a power trip of newly discovered confidence; partly a quest to understand the many people that cared about him. He’s going back to the workshop he built in a shed at age 18 to write an entirely different book, to answer the biggest questions.