`But I don't want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked.
`Oh, you can't help that,' said the Cat: `we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad.'
`How do you know I'm mad?' said Alice.
`You must be,' said the Cat, `or you wouldn't have come here.'
Alice didn't want to go among mad people, and who could blame her? That's the appropriate reaction, and I wish more people would have it. By the way, do you think Ann Althouse is crazy? That might be the explanation for the strange expression she has in the following picture.
The gaping mouth. The round, slightly crossed and protuberant eyes--those unblinking eyes, that look as if they gazed into the abyss of madness and now madness gazes out of them. Madness wouldn't explain the slurred speech, however.
What is she thinking now? Oh my God, I married my stalker. He's going to gaslight me and steal my boxed wine and JFK memorabilia! Or perhaps: I was respected once. True, I only lasted two years in the real world before I ran into the waiting arms of academia, but people hired me and everything. Now I perform like a seal before an audience of racist, ignorant bottom dwellers. Wouldn't it be funny if I just quit? Closed up my blog, put down the glass of wine, and donate my time to a legal clinic instead?
But madness has its own method and Athouse has let loose the bonds of sanity, floating far, far above it all.