The way to a manś heart is through the books he reads.

Wonderland? Why, yes, I have been there. It is off the coast of Never-land. A sort of between Oz and Kathmandu. However, on the Chinese side. Not the Nepal side of the Tibetan hiding place of the garden of paradise near the ocean. Few people realize that in England. The reader with the assumption that Alice was English. That small portal or wrap hole or rabbit holes lead to the tunnels that crisscross Europe leading to all sorts of places in the world and elsewhere. Any ways, Charles Lutwidge Dodgson talks with great-great Uncle Richard Francis Burton lead to his rather oddity book. A little about a place that great Uncle Burton talked about during the night tea. Uncle Burton talked about how he and a madman. That made hats for a living. Once fell through a hole following a historical piece stolen by what only he could describe was a fast moving bunny rabbit which he never caught. The hat maker in one of Uncle Burton’s many tales. Was given the name of Gregor MacGregor after a discussion that he never was sure his real name but that he was a hat maker was for sure. The title, unofficial or not, was part of the real tale told by Uncle Burton when he would take a shot of whiskey. There was this map. Which was the special historical piece which was stolen? The map that could take people's cross time, space, and supposedly worlds. The mad hatter MacGregor had stumbled upon this map during his conquest of the republic of Poyais. Just where had the map come from? Who knows? However, uncle Burton told how titling MacGregor at times pirate or cacique of Poyais. Had at one time pirated a Spanish ship that had treasures coming from Europe to Venezuela. At times, one had to ask uncle Burton was he was sure that the ship was not coming from South America to Europe. Or why would Spain send treasure to South America? Whiskey, at times, tells tales, and you have to verify and wonder about them. No. Uncle Burton was sure that MacGregor had said the ship was bound to Panama City. A catholic cardinal or some high official carrying books, maps, and to a pirate, very little useful spoils to be spent. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes. The dream. Or was this the dream? Dreaming is awful sorrowful these days. Watching the end of time. The wheel has spun out of control and, watching time spin backwards, billions of years people forget. Pray for peace. Anyway, a twinkle in my eye, I am not there any more. Humor a map. Yes, yes, that was where this story was supposed to go. AH, yes. After some wine. Let me see. Getting back to the map of the universe, Wonderland, Sir Barton, Pirate known as MacGregor, and well, the rabbit that stole the map of the universe. Where was I? ah, yes. Uncle Burton or Sir Barton, the man was everywhere in the 1800s he lived a charmed life. He and Mr. MacGregor meet off the coast of India. General Pirate MacGregor had the map with him and was on an expedition to Nepal. The idea of gaining more investors for his territory in Venezuela required that he have something special. The map indicated a gold statue, which MacGregor had promised one of his investors. Sir Burton was not Sir at this time. He was a young man in I believe he said he was it the 15th or 18th Bombay Native Infantry based in Gujarat and under the command of General Charles James Napier. Anyway, Uncle Burton was one of the few learned white men that was interested in languages and learned oh gosh lots according to Uncle Burton.

I think a short list was a proficient speaker of Hindustani, Gujarati, Punjabi, Sindhi, Saraiki and Marathi, as well as Persian and Arabic. Anyway, Mr. MacGregor arrived in India aboard a steamship and was lost looking for someone to help with languages in Bombay. The two meet er, per Uncle Burton, at a brothel. At this time, Mr. MacGregor was calling himself Cazique of Poyais. In layman’s term, a chief of a South American country to which he was selling land, and other items to any would be an investor. The two meet over a woman. She introduced Uncle Burton to Cazique of Poyais in English. Because she had listened to Mr. MacGregor's tale and thought that Uncle Burton could help. Any ways Mr. MacGregor vice general of the Venezuela army over a drink told this story. He was in a battle with some locals in Caracas. A cannon ball had bounced and hit right under him while he was reviewing an old map he had liberated as a pirate from a priest or cardinal. The cannon ball had exploded, and when he had awoke, he was in Bombay of all places. He had served her Majesty for a few years and recognized the city from stories he heard during service. Well, he had folded up his map and found that he had some loose coins. Stumbling into a local house of ill repute, he had met the lady which had introduced the Uncle Burton. In short order, the two had made plans to follow the map. That changed daily to a shrine where Oro in Spanish was spelled out on mountain claiming to border India and China. The weird part was that the map would change at times. And the outline of England with territories named Oz, Never-land and other lands unknown in the 1840s were shown. Anyway, Uncle Burton, Division general MacGregor, outfitted a small team to remove said statue of gold for financial gains. The team comprised two others, a mule, and supplies. They set out in 1945 or 1956, depending on which reality you would count the years in. They crossed the mountain range. One night while sleeping near a lake. Some bodies, as Uncle Burton would describe them, snatched one of the two mule handlers. His description that one moment the guy was carrying firewood back to the fire. The next, a hooping dead person or as the Chinese people later would call, a vampire hopped out of the lake and grabbed the guy. The other three attempted to get their companion back, fighting the bodies. Uncle Burton's eyes would stop for a moment. In disbelief, he would say that the flesh of the skulls came off most of the bodies. They tried, however, their mule handler had his throat ripped out and bleed to death. He shook his head. The bodies just ate their mule handler. And slurped up his blood where ever it fell on the ground. With slurping sounds, that memories made Uncle Burton shiver just recollecting the happening.

Now, running away from them. Burton, MacGregor, a mule handler, and mule came to a posted sign in the middle of the mountains between India and China. They had left their tents and sleeping gear. The mule evidently had some food left on it being unpacked, while one of the mule handlers had gotten wood for the fire.

To say they were not equipped is the correct statement. However, MacGregor had his book and map, which he insisted they check before going a step more. The mule and mule handler would not listen to this and just took the left side of the posted sign and left. The slurping undead were far behind, however they still could be heard, so a lighted torch was made from some torn material and the map and book consulted.

The way to a manś heart is through the books he reads.

It amazes me.

I gain people I have no idea how. I lose people because they are not liking me. However, I read the posts, and I am pretty sure stability of my writing has improved instead of decreased. I think maybe the light of their misdeeds must be causing their anguish to be more than then can handle. For only Handel can handle like Handel can... you know those few that understand that are bright, those that think they know what I am talking about I suggest you read a quote book on ole movies... For those that are upset for reading this, I ask for you to write your congressman and tell them to ask for net neutrality otherwise you will see my face as the face of media. I am going to apply as a reporter for the Muppet on PBS I can see it now... Live reporting from the Capital steps financial pun the loss of Fiat money. Oh my god they stole all that imaginary money

This story holds true today. There once was a kingdom whose advisors and king discovered that the grain they were about to use contained a fungus that changed a person’s perspective and judgment calls totally. The month before their grain ran out, the decision was to be made what to do for the king and advisor. Who could afford to buy uncontaminated grain and live with their current judgment, or they could drink the said cool aid and forget the perspective that they lived with all their lives? That judgment call happened, and we in the USA are paying for their judgment call. I always wondered about the book of Revelations why would people being punished not turn from their evil ways and submit to Christ and the creator. I wandered into other books and discovered something strange. The history of the past is being rewritten today and changed. The whole ideal of America is being transformed, and no one is stopping that change. I went out until I started seeing my sentences and ideas being changed. I realize this is just my imagination. However, I believe there is a systematic change happening within the USA. What was considered good and honest is now being replaced with something else. I wonder if it is the food and all those crazy conspiracies. I wander a bit.