It all goes back to his childhood. Everything does in one way or another, but in his case it really does go back to his childhood. That’s because he’s only twelve.
He started writing when he was four and he began blogging when he was ten and he began being read when he was eleven.
His first blog was called “What I Want To Be When I Grow Up.” It was an honest assessment of what he wanted to be when he grew up. Other people read it and read into it and thought it was profound.
It was the line “I want to be a pubic hair on the white bar of soap that is society,” that really sent everyone over the edge. His blog was read by over 200,000 people that week and was republished by dozens of sites.
He had seen his dad’s pube on the soap in the shower and thought it was both gross and funny.
I’m sure the first thing that comes to your mind is the movie Being There and I guess you’d be half right. In his case though the term simple-minded wasn’t as accurate as young-minded but hyphen or no hyphen, young-minded sounds confusing.
One of his more popular blogs was his retelling of an incident that took place between his mother and father. Somewhere during the course of the day the latter had upset the former so when it was time for dinner the number of entrees was one short of normal. His dad arrived to find dinner awaiting the hungry throngs but an empty plate in front of his chair. Nonplussed he made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and sat down with the rest of the family.
I could insult your intelligence and tell you what the mother had prepared despite not remembering so I think that’s exactly what I’ll do.
She made everyone a delicious steak with potatoes and corn on the cob.
Whatever the main course, the blog was a hit and there were several major magazines that not only reprinted the blog but had teams of intellectuals dissecting it so that the common reader could have it explained to them why it was so brilliant and what all the metaphors actually meant.
The fact that nobody knew who he was only made them want him more. He finally stopped reading his e-mail because some of them started talking about money and he felt at some point this was going to get him in big trouble.
Another blog was about his neighbor’s pool. They had erected one of those above-ground pools. He had followed few if any of the directions and after it was filled with water it began to lean and bulge. It made no difference to the next door neighbors and they happily splashed away and bought so many inflatable rafts and rings that you could barely make out any water.
The boy would bring a book and a folding chair out when the sun was starting its preparations to set and sit quite happily and read and listen to the steady stream of water pouring over the top of the unleveled pool. It wasn’t a brook but it was babbling just the same and the whole thing was like a lullaby about gravity.
Each morning the family next door would refill the pool and the whole thing would start again.
Obviously the political implications of this story were significant and started a debate that tore through Washington like a firestorm. “A lullaby about gravity, are you kidding me? How clear does he have to be?” they all screamed, their teeth gnashing. The only people who didn’t seem to think it was a heavy political statement were those that thought that it was a heavy statement about whatever it was they were concerned with. And among them the only people not screaming and gnashing their teeth were the manufacturers of above-ground pools who had already warned consumers about the inherent dangers of not putting their products on a level surface.
He posted a picture of a drawing his sister did of her favorite animal at the zoo. I would tell you which animal it was but even after viewing it I have no idea. There were four legs, a few stripes and at least one wing involved in the drawing. Floating in front of this creature were grey bars.
The art world went into conniptions.
Eventually he stopped posting because he wanted to devote himself more to his online gaming and, probably more importantly, he was afraid that someone from his school would see that he blogged. His farewell post was called “Blogging is Gay” and was described by most scholars as a literary call-to-arms.