Sadly, aside from his breathtaking contribution, nothing is known about this mysterious author. Immediately after vanished and has not been heard from since. His last known whereabouts are believed to have been a certain Ritz hotel, in Quincy, Indiana. Upon entering a recently vacated room to clean up, a cleaning lady encountered a crude draft (which has since been declared the original manuscript) of our author's work which he apparently accidentally left behind., he mysteriously
It is believed that within the confines of this room our genius gave birth to his masterpiece. Needless to say, the identity of the last occupant of that room was immediately checked, but to everyone's great dismay our maestro had signed in as "126.96.36.199" (according to the clerk, our author had informed him that he was a robot, and therefore he did not find the name unusual). One other source of hope was that a detailed facial description could be provided, but it was quickly extinguished when it was learned that 188.8.131.52 had been wearing a George Bush rubber mask, something which, in addition to disguising his identity, had helped to eliminate the clerk's suspicions about our author's claim that he was a robot (everyone knows that George Bush is just a robot operated jointly by Dick Cheney and Karl Rove, but enough about that).
It has been made clear that our literary erudite sadly does not want his true identity to be made known. Though this is an incredible disappointment to those many who wish to learn from this master, it is actually quite noble once you think about it.
Our author obviously does not want his personal greatness to influence our perception of his work, but rather desires his work to speak for itself, for only then can one truly grasp its transcendent qualities and be inspired by them... 'sniffle'... such a considerate person... oh WHY MUST THE RIGHT THING ALWAYS FEEL SO WRONG?!?!
A message for 184.108.40.206
- Dear Sir:
- If you are by some chance reading this, then you must be aware of just how much your artistic ingenuity has affected us all. As rich as the history of Western literature is, with wonderful works such as The Odyssey and Hamlet, your Fisher Price possesses some characteristic that is simply impossible to describe or label in any way, except as pure, unadulterated literary genius like none ever seen before. Though we respect and admire you for your choice to remain anonymous and not let your own genius distract us from appreciating your work for its own sake, we ask you with the utmost sincerity to please make your genius known to the world; if you insist on remaining in the shadows, then please at least bless us with another example of your literary prowess, but whatever you do, please do not deprive us of your remarkable talent; YOU SIMPLY CANNOT DENY THE WORLD OF WHAT IS RIGHTFULLY ITS!!!
Although it is currently unconfirmed, in May 2007 an author under the exact same pen name released a possible sequel to Fisher Price, in which Edward F. Boyd's name was changed to "Edward F. Boydtoucher" in a local newspaper obituary. The complete edited sentence read:
|“||*Edward F. Boydtoucher, 92, American marketing executive at Pepsi who shunned racial stereotypes in advertising.||”|
By changing Boyd's name to Boydtoucher, 220.127.116.11 is believed to have presented a harsh criticism of major American corporations, such as Pepsi, by associating them with pedophilia. Unfortunately, critical reaction has not been as positive, with one Oxford nerd slamming it as "highly derivative of the author's previous work", in the Oxford Journal of Literary Nepotism.
They say be careful what you wish for. Of course, said fuckers can eat shit.