A Critic's Meta Review: 5/5
“One pill makes you larger…”
Indeed, discussions around this book always seem to inevitably lead to a multitude of colorful references to mind-altering substances. It is hard to imagine that Lewis Carroll was not blasted out of his mind on mescaline or some form of proto-lysergic that may have been making its way through England at the time - at least that’s what those good-for-nothing-except-trashing-your-van hippies will have you believe.
The truth, unfortunately for fans of the band Umphrey’s McGee, does not exactly line up with this version of events. In reality, Lewis Carroll was just a really big goofball and a huge math geek. Apparently, a lot of the wordplay and rhythmic patterns he employs throughout this book, as well as across his other works, are based on a number of mathematical and logical puzzles.
Also, apparently Lewis Carroll was a huge douche. He was an ardent Tory and a great admirer of the English nobility, often snobbishly sneering at those whom he had deemed inferior to him and his Oxford elite. It honestly makes sense - anyone who has the kind of time to sit around and just make up a bunch of silly nonsense words, willy-nilly, must not have had to work any long hours at the steel mill. This guy was as bourgeois as they come. But not bad; just bourgeois.
Also, his real name was Charles Lutwidge Dodgson. Think about that for a second. It sounds made up. It sounds like something he would have made up. I am unable to say it with a straight face.
Anywho, in the spirit of the esteemed Sir C.L. Dodgson (which I am surprised he did not request to be referred to as by those pesky plebeian “inferiors” he so fiercely detested being in the presence of), I shall share with you all a short poem that I wrote this morning, in about forty-five seconds. It began as a simple word association exercise, but I think it ended up as a nice little surreal gem. I don’t know, I’m probably biased. You be the judge.
Silk woven pantaloon-ey tune squad goal oriental rug man handle bar fly swat team meeting of the mind your P’s and Q’s
Don’t accuse me of nothing ‘cept for holding down a groove
Now go on and fill your wiffles up with jiffles and be careful not to run into any skiffles on your way to Biffle. Or something like that.
I don’t know, man.
“Feed your head!”