I sent an email to KK, who I know groks the knock-knock (ask him about the interrupting cow, sometime). Maybe you do, too. Here's an excerpt from the email:
First:
Knock knock
Who's there?
Control Freak, okaythisisthepartwhereyousaycontrolfreakwho?
And second:
A man is reading the paper on a Sunday afternoon when there's a knock at the front door. Answering it, he sees there is no one there. Spying a snail on the front step, he picks it up and throws it back into the flower beds. Ten years later, another Sunday, another newspaper, another knock. He answers the door. No one there, but a snail, who says "What the fuck was that about?"
These are from a blog that Rakoff kept while at the Woody Allen Film Fest. I haven't read it very closely, as much as I like Rakoff's other work. As ETP, who pointed me to this blog, says: "There has been less neurosis in one place at one time, we thinks."
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