Redundancy.

Put a door at someplace that don’t need one.

Can’t think of a place? Perhaps you can take heed and straddle off with these few examples first:


Put a door on your roof.

Put a door on the Karak Highway.

Put a door that opens to a door that opens to an elevator with only one floor button (13) and when you press it the cable snaps and A Whole New World plays on the speakers.

Put a door in the Hulk’s room.

Put a door in a monorail train with the ‘W.C’ label, that opens to nothing.

I think you pretty much get the general idea.

Good ideas, non? Imagine the utter confusion it would cause. An old hobo walks out to the middle of the Karak Highway, and opens the door into a oncoming 16-wheeler (not that we have many of them there). He sees blinding light, and that’s all he will remember.

The point to all this? I’m afraid it’s merely to place my opinion (or rant, if you may) in regards of my dad who, somehow, in spite of all possible explanations except for pure having-nothing-to-do, saw fit to install a door smack between the garden and the new, expanded porch.

Before you start getting impressions of a 7-foot mahogany double-door with brass handles, let me first inform you that it is merely one of them bar-counter doors that opens and flaps back with ease (my father refers to them as ‘cowboy doors’; the ones that open into western saloons and clatter back into place after someone walks through it, which I think is for the ease of the excessively drunk). It is now installed on one of the metal bars that hold the canopy and flaps out into the garden.

Sounds sensible, yes, if we have a wall that specifically would spell “Door here, please”, or even a proper picket fence. What we have is flowers and pots and plastic flower-bed Just Stick it on the Ground and It’ll Look Like you’ve Built It mini fences.

That said, the door now stands so out of place I wouldn’t be more surprised with one on the Karak Way.

I looked at it this afternoon and realised that it’s not really a sore to the eye; it’s just out of place. Not door-on-the-roof out of place, which is downright bizarre. Just… weird. Needless. Yes, that seems to sum it out right.

I believed my father thought it as a means to successfully keep the dogs away from the garden or vice versa, but the dogs have worked it out now and the father is… well, just passive about it.
I just think that it’s uselessly there, like a door to a door to an elevator express to death. Just give me a hole with no “Beware! Hole ahead” sign, and I will gladly (accidentally) fall into it.

**********************

I’m bored.

(This is holiday boredom, by the way, and not to be associated with other forms of boredom that are inexplicably and inevitably existent in everything else).

Somehow this shouldn’t be, because I have the stack of books I got from the Book Fair Thing that still sits on my table, staring at me glumly and catching dust quick. I haven’t gotten to the rest of them because Danse Macabre proved to be a long read, and somehow I don’t want to start on something else until I’ve finished it.

I also have Chrono Cross on the laptop (EPSXE emulated, with the complete two-disc ISOs), which I know I can get lost into for hours on end. And Tekken 5 is fun fun fun.

Across the Universe is still in the laptop, which I haven’t gotten to watch while at work, and now still haven’t gotten to watch yet. There’s that huge pile of DVDs in the living room cabinet and I might just actually watch the entire Heroes season 1 on DVD.

So why am I bored? What unexplained, incomprehensible, illogical force is holding me into this stagnating and dourly unmoving limbo?

Great skies above! Give me an answer!

Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m innately one who seeks the boredom, because being stoned by inactivity is in itself a form of unrequited pleasure, refined, possibly, by dancing away from the other temptations that bid themselves as ‘cures’ for it. That’s right, like a strip tease or a carrot dangling on a pole; pleasures heightened by refraining from it, kept at a distance not too far to whiff but not too near to taste.
Or maybe I’m just being stupid.