The House on the Rock

We toured Sections 1,2, & 3 

Sue & I spent five hours wondering through the House on the Rock.  I don't know what to think of it.  I need to let the faces of all those dolls sink in.  I need to let all those walls of carousel figures sink in.  It was so dream like to walk through rooms of doll houses and then turn a corner into more rooms of doll houses.  We got the serious creeps around that part of the tour, and then there was the tower of dolls. four stories high. The porcelain stares of all those old antique dolls turning towards you on that marry-go-round tower, one after the other coming at you, looking, and passing.  Level upon level looking you straight in the eye. Suddenly someone puts a token in the robot circus wagon and the place lights up with wild circus parade music.  I got a little worried wandering when they were going to let us out of here.  It was like wondering through someones obsession. Rod Serling was going to be toking a cig around the next corner. "They thought they were entering a museum, to view oddities under glass, but to view so many objects on display in one day has an effect on your mind. Welcome to the twilight zone." What is really on display here is human obsession. Someone puts another token in and the orchestra of mannequins bust into the Blue Danube. I look up and there are elephants over me with half naked ladies standing all over them....   Did you see the bottle with the model of the baby doll laying in a coffin?  Or a few doors down of the street of Yesterday the doctors office with the jars of tape worms?  The label said, they melt away unsightly fat, and are easy to swallow; all the minute details of such a huge collection. Some of the rooms had openings high on the walls that allowed me to view parts of exhibits I had seen 30 minutes before. THe walls are all painted black to appear invisible, high ceiling low ceiling.  They are trying to imitate a dream environment. This place is museum without a curator.  Just put everything on display, no editing, an Andy Worhol movie, a stroll through the old thought bog.