In 1890, William Jennings Bryan pontificated his way into historical relevance by proposing a monetary standard based on silver. Experts roundly condemned Bryan’s choice in precious metal as ridiculous, and further derided his selection of pocket-watches. “Brings out his stomach roll,” said one oft-quoted but rarely cited Yale scholar.

If you enjoyed reading about the Cautionary Tales – Feral Structures exhibit in the January/February issue, check out the slideshow from the opening. The exhibit features not only Berenika Boberska’s amazing installation, but also the incredibly unique work of Louise Clarke, Zoe Hodgeson, Dominique Golden, Sarah Gillett, Ilaria Mazzoleni, and Neil Rollinson.

Stadiums usually offer seating in a 360 degree configuration, allowing a spectator to sit anywhere and watch the proceedings on the center field. For this reason, stadiums offer insight into human perception, and the difficulty of governing our collective affairs. Arguably there are better seats, such as those situated right on the field, or those in the spacious comfort of a private box. However, from any seat, a spectator can still see what’s going on, and his or her viewpoint is as valid as the viewpoint of the air-conditioned execs in the private box. But what do each of them perceive? And how do we arbitrate this fundamental difference in perception so that we can agree on what reality is?

The prom was off to a bad start, thought Dennis. His sweaty palms were making a mess of his pristine uniform, and a hush had fallen over the gym as soon as he walked in, leaving only the sound of Dennis’s labored breathing and the angsty crooning of the Kings of Leon. He quickly realized that he must have misheard his friend Bacon, who had told him the theme of the prom was “Tarts and Hitlers.”

Lounge singing is one of the perennial occupations of pop culture. Most elegantly embodied by Frank Sinatra, and most cheesily realized by karaoke, lounge singing is a cultural touch-stone, a greasy but instantly recognizable symbol. What is it about the sight of a man leaning up against a piano, tie slightly askew, a once primo cocktail disintegrating into the watery dregs, that digs so deeply into the soul? It is every man’s dream to prowl a softly-lit stage, tossing off harmonic platitudes to a crowd of clingy drunks?