He may or may not really think that. He's always trying to get attention. Shock value gets him paid, and he's right. I'm stupid and lazy. My two A.P. classes, four instruments, and three bands certainly prove it. My special class friend K.J., the school's resident musical prodigy, is obviously a moron. There's no surer sign of idiocy than being able to play jazz piano about three hours after getting a cheap keyboard for the first time. The sixth grade savant who met me once and rattled off my name and date of birth a semester later needs to get off his rump. I have to check out this guy's book tour schedule. If he comes anywhere near my town and people get to talk to him, I'll show up. He got rich acting like Nelson on "The Simpsons," pointing and laughing at anything different-looking. How hard can it be to make that look stupid? He may just call me names until I give up and go away, but if not, I'll have some fun. Why schedule cram a protest into a busy schedule when one has a knack for brow beating people with logic and a razor blade for a tongue?