You see her everywhere these days—on playing cards, tea sets and in the windows of dress shops. That courteous and clumsy little girl who once fell down a rabbit hole has landed at the front of our imaginations. Indeed, Alice is back in a big way.

“Alice in Wonderland,” the animated film that captured most of our childhood hearts, is based on the 19th century book “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland” and its sequel

“Through the Looking Glass” by British author Lewis Carroll.  Although consistently loved over the past century and a half, the tale has recently experienced a surge in popularity, mostly thanks to the upcoming live action version directed by the acclaimed yet infamous Tim Burton.

One must wonder, however, why this 150-year-old children’s nonsense novel has become so marketable so suddenly.  What is it about naïve little Alice and the strange and unfamiliar Wonderland that makes it so relevant?

The timing seems too apt to be coincidence.  Much like Alice, we in the Western world have as of late been pulled down our own sort of rabbit hole and into an altogether unreal and upside down version of what used to be the real world. Those who we were supposed to be able to trust—banks, governments, insurance companies, car manufacturers and the like—have failed us miserably. Compared to our present situation, grins without cats and flamingo croquet seem like child’s play.  In short, nothing works the way it is supposed to anymore.

Most recently, Toyota president Akio Toyoda’s visit to Capitol Hill to express his sincerest apologies for his company’s recent recalls seemed to be oddly reminiscent of the Mad Hatter’s tea party, as congressmen seemed more anxious to please their constituents by flagellating the Japanese automaker than actually working towards reform and reparation. This, coupled with the disastrous health care reform summit, made for a very mad week indeed.

So what do we do?  Instead of trying to fix things—bailouts and sanctions have sadly proven to be about as effective as the size-change-inducing elixirs available to Alice (they almost seem to do the opposite of what they advertise)—we must grin and bear the madness.  At this point the situation, already too far out of our control, is no longer worthy of our frustration.  Instead, like Alice, we must learn to simply go along for the ride.

We may be confronted with more irresponsible government spending and atrocious corporate behavior in the future, but we mustn’t turn to despair in this most nonsensical of times. Instead, we must join all of the Mad Hatters in charge for tea and laugh and hope for change.

Rebecca Quinn is a junior art history, Spanish, and French triple major. She can be reached for comment at [email protected].