“Little Rascals” Star, Bug Hall, Reveals He “Took A Vow Of Poverty” And Lives Off The Grid
Life has a funny way of knocking you sideways, and for Bug Hall—the kid who once slicked his hair into that iconic Alfalfa spike in “The Little Rascals”—the sideways turn became a full‑blown detour into the wilderness. His story has resurfaced online, stirring curiosity about how a former child star ended up embracing poverty, faith, and an off‑grid lifestyle. What he’s shared lately paints a picture that’s raw, strange, and undeniably human.
Leaving Hollywood Behind
Hall didn’t just drift away from Hollywood—he slammed the door shut and walked into the woods. After years of bouncing between states and trying to outrun the chaos that fame and adulthood threw at him, he finally settled on an 80‑acre plot of land in rural Arkansas with his wife and five kids. According to The Daily Mail, Hall said he “took a vow of poverty” and committed to building a self‑sustaining homestead complete with its own hydro‑electric setup, plumbing, and off‑grid power.
He’s not shy about why he left, either. Hall openly admitted that his turning point came after being arrested for allegedly huffing air duster—a moment he now frames as a wake‑up call. That brush with self‑destruction pushed him toward what he calls a “radical Catholic extremist” identity, a label he uses without irony. It’s messy, it’s complicated, and it’s very much the story of someone trying to rebuild from the ground up.
A Vow of Poverty—Literally
Most people talk about simplifying their lives. Hall actually did it. He gave away his savings, ditched modern comforts, and committed to living with as little as possible. In his own words, “My goal is to maintain a life as free of any need for an income as possible,” a statement he shared in an interview published by E! Online.
That doesn’t mean he never works—just that he only takes odd jobs when absolutely necessary. Cash jobs, small tasks, whatever keeps the family afloat without pulling them back into the grind of modern life. It’s a far cry from red carpets and studio lights, but Hall seems convinced it’s the only way he can stay grounded.
Life Off the Grid after “Little Rascals”
Hall’s family currently lives in a camper van while he builds their permanent home by hand. No computer. No TV. No modern conveniences beyond a phone he uses to post updates and photos of his family’s daily life—nature walks, chores, and the kind of quiet moments most people scroll past without noticing.
His posts have stirred controversy, especially when he referred to his daughters as “dishwashers” and his infant son as an “heir.” Whether you read that as old‑school humor, misguided tradition, or something more troubling depends on your lens, but it’s clear he’s not trying to fit into anyone’s expectations—not Hollywood’s, not the internet’s, not society’s.
Faith, Family, and the Fight to Start Over
Hall’s transformation isn’t just about escaping fame—it’s about rebuilding identity. He calls himself a “medieval moralist,” a phrase that sounds half‑joking until you realize he means it. His faith is the backbone of his new life, shaping everything from how he raises his kids to how he views work, money, and purpose.
It’s easy to roll your eyes at a former child star reinventing himself in the woods. But there’s something undeniably raw about a man who admits he spiraled, hit bottom, and decided to claw his way back by rejecting everything he once knew. Whether you see it as admirable or extreme, it’s a story that sticks with you.
The Legacy of a Little Rascal
For many people, Hall will always be Alfalfa—the sweet, awkward kid with the cowlick and the cracked singing voice. But the man he’s become is far more complicated. His journey from “Little Rascals” fame to off‑grid obscurity is a reminder that childhood stardom rarely leads to a simple adulthood.
Hall’s story isn’t polished. It’s not inspirational in the Instagram‑friendly sense. It’s rough, strange, and deeply human. And maybe that’s why people can’t stop talking about it.
If nothing else, it proves that even a Little Rascal can grow up, burn down the script, and start writing a new one—one built on faith, family, and a vow of poverty that he’s determined to live out, no matter how unconventional it looks from the outside.
