Questioning the Unquestioned

In surfing some friends' blogs recently, I came across something called "The Blog Readability Test" which measures: "what level of education is required to understand your blog." The blog upon which I saw this meter was a "College (Post Grad)" level blog, and I, wanting to confirm my unquestioned intelligence, decided to check my own blog. No, wait, that's not exactly accurate. I, not needing to check my unquestioned intelligence (it's unquestioned after all), thought, "How cute. But it seems a little conceited to place that meter on my blog." Of course, my wonderful fiancee thought it would be interesting to, well, question my unquestioned intelligence, and check my blog. As it turns out, placing this meter on my blog would not have provided bragging rights, but rather a reason to continue my post-graduate studies--yes, that's right, my blog is "Junior High Level" which means, in essence, that if you have braces, acne, and an unhealthy obsession with Cover Girl foundation, you are eligible to (and capable of) reading my blog.

In attempting to understand exactly why pre-Algebra taking, glitter-eyeshadow-wearing pre-teens could be my audience, and quite possibly also adoring fans, I conducted a (non-scientific) content analysis of my previous posts and came up with the following most mentioned topics:

1) Cats
2) Wal-Mart
3) Camels
4) Human/civil rights in Israel
5) Cats
6) Stories from my bus adventures in Jerusalem
7) The Disengagement from the Gaza Strip
8) Pickles
9) Saving the world
10) Oh yes, and cats.

Nadav seems to think that my overuse of felines as subject matter may be playing a role in the algorithm used to determine the "level" of my blog.

But I've decided after checking one of my other friend's blogs--someone who I truly consider a genius, a walking encyclopedia, and a clever writer--and discovering that, according this test, that one only requires a elementary school education to understand it, I'm in good company. I'm a writer of the people--apparently even awkward, Backstreet Boys-loving, Bongo-sporting middle schoolers (please excuse the dated references to my own pre-pubescent era).