The afternoon began innocently enough with a lunch meeting in Tower Hill, but gathered pace when I hesitated upon my departure from the Rotunda, and overheard a quartet of deal-making Continentals: ‘The names for an apple are not the fruit itself.’ Code for a transaction they were negotiating or aphorisms for the spewing aside, one picaresque experience leads to another and the next thing I knew, I was on the 73 bus heading out of Harvard Square, with the Armenian driver working the crowd and apologizing for our poor geography. Vijay finally breaks loose of his winter skin while sampling comedy clubs up and down the East Coast, and discovers that The Impresario represents truth in advertizing. In his black and blue swan t-shirt, every clown does have a silver lining. However, these are but preludes to the existential challenges soon to face a young nation, in search of the one man able to solve these riddles, and deliver a cure for us all.