Down with different laws

I've fallen through a rabbit hole. It was a deliberate accident.

Wonderland is throbbing with merry expectation. The best china has been brought out and the table set for me at a tea-party that has been going on for decades. Hear ye, hear ye: today we feed it. The party cheers as I terminate the last morsel. "She did well. We did well." Nodding all round. Life is good for a moment.

But the baby shows its true face soon: it has turned into a pig! Well, it figures. We expected that much. It ought to be ashamed of itself. A dirty, ill-mannered, incompetent, dumb, disobedient and wrong pig!

Oh wait but it's so ours! Maybe with a little ribbon here, and some speech training - words instead of snorting - other people might not notice that it's actually a pig. And, we love it anyway, deeply flawed as it is, because it's ours, and nobody else will ever love it. It should be grateful. Oh but the hurt it causes us - how did we deserve to have a pig? But oh how much we are willing to forgive it!

Then who in the world was I? I would keep morphing back and forth. That's common in Wonderland. Rules are always rules (we play croquet with flamingos because that is how it's done), but the story doesn't stay the same for long. Try reminding the Queen of last week's drama: she will find you guilty of treason. She clearly never claimed any such thing. This moment, she knows the ultimate truth, the truth which has always been that way. Everybody knows that, and there's even a saying to confirm it.

Protocol is all. Every detail of appearance is regulated to meet the court's standards of decorum, and speech is codified to ensure it is nothing but proper. Hush, hush, lest the neighbors should hear. The tea party hosts are rightfully indignant at the appearance of logic and reasoning, because they were there first. And let's proceed to paint our life in pink – just so the people won't talk. It's always somebody else's fault, but they won't understand. Nobody is to be trusted, and a monarch has a lot to lose. It's a cruel world out there and there's always someone plotting to overthrow you.

How fond she is of finding dangers to avoid! The Queen calls for beheading as a way of settling all difficulties. The King placates her for a while and she remains benevolent until the next beheading. Meanwhile everyone quarrels so dreadfully you can barely hear your own thoughts. And so the days go by. The pool of tears was at the beginning of the tale – but no use drowning in it if we're all mad. The alleged world on the other side of the rabbit hole is deemed dangerous nonsense. Yes, I will come and play. Words are mere playthings here, signifying hardly anything. And nothing any more tomorrow. All beings just going about trying to be happy. I'll come and play; I'll just omit mentioning that I'm actually a mile tall, since no one will notice anyway. Who would believe? Does it matter? Will I won't I will I won't I will I join the dance?