Both the Mad Hatter and Doctor Dodgson are fully aware of the magical quality of nonsense. Facts are quite easily forgot, dates, places, events so easily erased from the memory as to create huge prairies of nothingness in the mind’s eye. Nonsense however in plainly ever memorable on so many levels, worming its way deep into the subconscious, a portion of the mind almost impossible to reach willingly, even knowingly, particularly in the company of a readied blackboard eraser.
Nonsense is the stuff of dreams, of mal de mere, the producer equally of involuntary shudder and gentle amusement. Writ large with impossibly tiny font these images, thoughts, feelings permanently impressed, are inclined to manipulate, guide and pursue our activities from infancy to dotage.
Their origin is oft as oblique as their nature, amplifications of a reality at minimum wholly unlikely if not completely impossible. Tall tales, nursery rhymes, obtuse ditties, fanciful fables all play their part in production, the human mind being quite capable of creating a completely harlequined production from the merest crude monochrome sketch.