This is a follow-up to last week’s entry, specifically to the fifth resolution on the list.  It is intended to serve as a reminder that with the arrival of new things comes the passing of old ones, that the new year cannot start unless the old year finishes.  Or, in the words of Dan Wilson, “Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.”

The noble Cardboardery had humble beginnings. A crate left over from moving in. A box that once contained spoons. Pieces of a table. A hanger. In those primordial days none suspected how far it could go.

Soon, however, the raw materials that would fuel its awe-inspiring expansion were discovered. Diet Pepsi. Beer. Box upon box of Little Caesar’s pizzas. In time it seemed that no amount of cardboard, however great, could satisfy its rapacious appetites.

Yet the noble Cardboardery was ever the gentle giant. Never did it do harm to its neighbors. Never did it lord its might over the lesser -eries. Not once did it catch fire, despite the protestations of critics.

Sadly, like all Mankind’s purest, most laudable endeavors, the noble Cardboardery came to an end. When this seemingly unstoppable juggernaut surpassed the bounds of the closet, its fate was sealed. Just like Icarus flying too high on his wings of wax, the noble Cardboardery achieved a greatness too great for mere mortals, and it drew the wrath of the Gods.

Their vengeance was swift and horrible. They decreed that the noble Cardboardery be disassembled at once, else they would rain down sulfur and brimstone upon its majestic peaks, turning the surrounding apartments–and perhaps all the Earth–into a Hellish holocaust. In an act of typical divine cruelty, they further stipulated that those to take apart the noble Cardboardery would be the very same that had so lovingly given it form. For days the halls were filled with the lamentations of those who had tasted the capriciousness of the Gods at its most bitter.

And then there was nothing.

But do not dwell on this catastrophe, this act of inhuman destruction. All good things must come to an end. Remember the noble Cardboardery as it was: a shining symbol of Man’s triumph over nature, a testament to his tenacity in the face of unbelievable odds and his ability to look into the Void and see what might be. And remember too the miracle of construction: that which has fallen can always be rebuilt.

The author apologizes for his bizarre closet fixation, and would like to assure readers that the site will return to more traditional content next Monday. However, we all have things that we would like to do, not all of which can be achieved: hence the New Year’s resolution. So the author will simply say: tune in next week.