The Cheshire Cat Speaks..

An out of body conversation between Alice and the Cheshire Cat

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:00

The Cheshar Cat speaks. So we Wonderlanders had this visitor recently, or perhaps it was quite recently, certainly within in body living memory. My third life or is this my fifth? I think she said her name was Alice or something. Anyway, I'm trying to make sense as to why a young a young lady would follow a white rabbit down a hole. It's like trying to make sense out of a very nonsensible allegory or coin whatever. She was a strange one. I mean she appeared to have a predetermined understanding of all realities. In her case, I think it was really just one reality and seemed to find it difficult, if nigh impossible, to comprehend the myriad realities of this here wonderland. Oh this must sound terribly, terribly abstract. I always sound like that when I'm out of body and it's just my grin that lanterns this favourite tree of mine. I mean I tried tried to tell her things that no make that. I tried to tell her things are very different here. I told her there's nothing like a nice cup of tea for calming the nerves, even though it tastes like a syringe of adrenaline straight to the heart. I told her that the only insane equate pain was success. I even asked her a riddle, one is a croquet mallet like a billy club, and I told her that's whatever you want it to be. I shuddered at her metaphor. There must be more than one way to skin a cat. I ask you, how indelicate is that statement for any visitor to utter to a cat? It started the latest out of body episode I can tell you. I think the sympathetic circularity from mister Carroll illustrates my point. Me, if I were looking for a white rabbit, I would ask the Mad Hatter. Alice The Mad Hatter? Oh no, no, no, no Me or you could try the March Hare. He lives in that direction. Alice Oh thank you, I think I'll see him. Me, of course. He's mad too. Alice, but I don't want to be among mad people. Me, oh you can't help that. Most everyone is mad here. Perhaps an equation might simplify matters. Boring predictability predictability plus predictable bore minus deviance of any kind equals Alice's world. You see, there are no slizy toes in her world, no moam wrath either for that matter. Instead, I divine a rigid adherence to social norms and rational thought. So she can follow all the rabbits down, all the holes in the world, but she'll never, never understand what she finds there. Or there. Or where. So there.