I went to the real estate website this morning. I like tinkering with the filters. It’s fun to see the cheapest houses, or the big price drops when sellers finally get religion. Setting the filters for price high to low rarely disappoints, if you’re looking for laughs. You can see some really absurd houses for money-laundering prices nationwide, but selecting it for Maine is its own brand of foolishness. There’s plenty of sugar shacks along the coast that list for many millions. They’re usually the ugliest houses in Maine. Building things at the seashore seems to bring out the worst in people. A huge, featureless expanse of water is considered a nonpareil view these days. It inspires people to a kind of madness manifested in bricks and mortar.

Today’s crop didn’t disappoint. Boy howdy it didn’t. It featured the most absurd structure I’ve ever seen in Maine, and that’s a high bar to clear. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Saracen-Punjabi-Japo-Scandinavian White House, designed by that famous architectural firm Delirium, Tremens, and  Shitfit:

It’s in Bar Harbor, which is known in Maine as the corner pocket where you roll when you have too much money and no interest in Maine itself. Bar Harbor is on Mount Desert Island, which is chockablock full of bizarre seasidy monster houses for the riche, some nouveau, many old money. David E. Kelly is from Bar Harbor, and so is David Rockefeller. You can decide if the Standard Oil Trust or Ally McBeal did more damage to the United States.

Let’s go inside.

You know, when you’re building a seven-million-dollar manse on the seashore in Maine, the first thing that pops into your head is elephants. Well, that, and weird, Fred Flintstone beams showing an even bigger butt end than the elephant’s got. It all meshes seamlessly with the marble columns and balustrades and whatnot. Some Etruscan is wearing a truss after lugging those in. If the real estate agent had been consulted earlier, I’m sure the elephant would have been white.

I think I see the fundamental problem. The owner of the house is obviously an electrician. You can tell from the two fiberglass ladders stored behind the elephant. That’s a dead giveaway. Electricians are known for bad taste in architecture when they try their hand at it. That, and lots of light switches in every room.

I think this is the living room. At first I guessed that the realtor got their slides mixed up, and accidentally included a shot of Liberace’s parking garage. But when they faced the other way and took another snapshot, I could espy the elephant. Hard to miss an elephant. Even Hemingway couldn’t do it.

The realtor doesn’t name the rooms, so we’ll have to guess. This is obviously the laser tag room. It’s stunning, isn’t it? I know I’m stunned. Maybe there’s a more sensible explanation for the decorating scheme. They’re thinking of making a Tron sequel or something.

The listing is kinda strange. For instance, there are no pictures of a kitchen. Then again, there are no pictures of coffins in the basement with heaps of Transylvanian earth all around, either, but I assume they both come with the house.

There are bedrooms. I think. There aren’t that many visual cues to put you on the scent of what’s what. For instance, I’m not sure if faux peeling wallpaper and grime is normally found in bedrooms these days. Of course to continue with the Silence of the Lambs decorating scheme, please note that the doorknob has been removed from the door in the picture. It puts the lotion on its skin, or it gets to spend another night in the crackhouse room.

There are lots more pictures at the listing, if you want to see more. But if you are interested in buying it, please memorize my name and then throw away your head. I won’t be able to sleep at night, just knowing you’re out there and thinking of me.