By Teddy Glaeser III
It is a dark time for the Rebellion. Greek myrmidons, enraged at the death of Achilles, have awoken from a centuries-long slumber deep beneath Fenway Park. Meanwhile, you relax peacefully on a mysterious beach, sipping herbal tea as you observe the beautiful serenity of the cerulean sea. You aren’t sure of your location, but it’s probably somewhere around the island of Tasmania. Lounging upon your cozy futon, you suddenly realize that you forgot to bring your favorite pair of moccasins. This calamity is only worsened by the arrival of Tsar Nicholas II, who launches into a diatribe concerning The Scarlet Letter. Wallowing in ennui, you lament your decision to murder Rasputin. But the Gedankenexperiment remains: if Schrödinger’s monkey falls over while Descartes is in a cave, is its allegorical typewriter still the same ship? Write out your answer in kumquats and mail it to me by owl to receive your reward (“yes” or “no” are sadly unacceptable).
