A Mage in the Making

Raising a demonic army on Chapel Street is a great way to put off homework.

Illustration by Felicia Chang. The swarthy Hero of Iroas scowled, swept back his crimson cape, and put up his fists. Kytheon’s Irregulars drew their swords. The demonic Master of the Feast rose on his bat’s wings. Cameron surveyed his army, considered his odds, and called for a frontal assault. In that moment, I knew that I had him. It was a small mistake: a slight overextension of his forces, a bit of cockiness from an experienced mage who was certain his amateur adversary wouldn’t notice. . . Read more
Henry Reichard
Mane Man

One morning in January, Joe Moscato and I shook hands for the first time. Five minutes later, he was drawing on my face. “It’s all about having an eye to see where things belong,” he said, tilting my chin with one hand as he added an inch to my sideburns with a black eye pencil. … Continue reading Mane Man

One morning in January, Joe Moscato and I shook hands for the first time. Five minutes later, he was drawing on my face. “It’s all about having an eye to see where things belong,” he said, tilting my chin with one hand as he added an inch to my sideburns with a black eye pencil. Once he’d finished shading, Joe gestured along my cheekbone to show how a longer cut would accentuate my features. “It’s all about working with what you’ve got.” I had to. . . Read more
William Reid
Traces of Spice

A few days into my first year at Yale, I was talking to my father on the phone. As any good Asian parent is wont to do, he asked me about food. “Is it good?” he said. “Are you eating properly?” There was a pause on my end. My first response was to say yes, … Continue reading Traces of Spice

A few days into my first year at Yale, I was talking to my father on the phone. As any good Asian parent is wont to do, he asked me about food. “Is it good?” he said. “Are you eating properly?” There was a pause on my end. My first response was to say yes, of course I was. I was doing fine. I had begun to develop that tone of disdain that first-years adopt when talking to their parents. I was a college student. . . Read more
Ananya Kumar-Banerjee
Finding Love at Yale

Finding love at Yale is hard. Just ask my mom, who has had this explained to her at least twice a month for the past three years. How do you meet someone when everyone seems too busy, too hot, or too consumed with cultivating a hip but low-key Facebook persona to give you a chance? … Continue reading Finding Love at Yale

Finding love at Yale is hard. Just ask my mom, who has had this explained to her at least twice a month for the past three years. How do you meet someone when everyone seems too busy, too hot, or too consumed with cultivating a hip but low-key Facebook persona to give you a chance? Don’t worry! I’m here to help. Below are some of the best places to find love at Yale! 1. A dining hall See a cute guy eating dinner alone? Ask. . . Read more
Jacob Sweet
Journey to Foxon Park
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Bix Archer
The Science of Getting Paid

Fifty-six years ago, a flyer around downtown New Haven sought subjects for a social psychology study. Volunteers found themselves in the basement of Linsly-Chittenden Hall, in Professor Stanley Milgram’s lab. Milgram, who was investigating obedience to authority, commanded his subjects to shock someone else with increasing voltages of electricity until they refused. Before they were … Continue reading The Science of Getting Paid

Fifty-six years ago, a flyer around downtown New Haven sought subjects for a social psychology study. Volunteers found themselves in the basement of Linsly-Chittenden Hall, in Professor Stanley Milgram’s lab. Milgram, who was investigating obedience to authority, commanded his subjects to shock someone else with increasing voltages of electricity until they refused. Before they were debriefed, volunteers thought they had actually caused another human being intense pain, and, perhaps, depending on how far they went, death. For their hour of service, Milgram paid his volunteers. . . Read more
Marc Shkurovich
The Science of Getting Paid

Fifty-six years ago, a flyer around downtown New Haven sought subjects for a social psychology study. Volunteers found themselves in the basement of Linsly-Chittenden Hall, in Professor Stanley Milgram’s lab. Milgram, who was investigating obedience to authority, commanded his subjects to shock someone else with increasing voltages of electricity until they refused. Before they were … Continue reading The Science of Getting Paid

Fifty-six years ago, a flyer around downtown New Haven sought subjects for a social psychology study. Volunteers found themselves in the basement of Linsly-Chittenden Hall, in Professor Stanley Milgram’s lab. Milgram, who was investigating obedience to authority, commanded his subjects to shock someone else with increasing voltages of electricity until they refused. Before they were debriefed, volunteers thought they had actually caused another human being intense pain, and, perhaps, depending on how far they went, death. For their hour of service, Milgram paid his volunteers. . . Read more
Marc Shkurovich
Whine and Dine

Making a dignified entrance You’ve made your first mistake: entering a dining hall without an eating partner. How did it end up like this? Just today, ten acquaintances inquired about grabbing a meal and catching up, but when you asked what time worked, they started sweating and fled. Weird. You don’t want to look like … Continue reading Whine and Dine

Making a dignified entrance You’ve made your first mistake: entering a dining hall without an eating partner. How did it end up like this? Just today, ten acquaintances inquired about grabbing a meal and catching up, but when you asked what time worked, they started sweating and fled. Weird. You don’t want to look like you’re trying too hard to find somebody, but if you don’t put in enough effort, you’ll end up sitting alone. You see Jimmy from Orgo. His notebook of chemical reactions. . . Read more
Jacob Sweet
Dispatches from the Toad’s Bathroom

What I heard during an hour in the stall.

Situated beneath a dance floor coated in liquor and pheromones, the Toad’s men’s bathroom lacks the sterility of other men’s bathrooms on campus. I’ve only spent a few moments in there, and whether by chemical aid or brute force alone, I’ve successfully repressed most of them. The access I have to the Toad’s men’s bathroom because I’m cis-ish and have a dick (score!) is a privilege that I must wield responsibly. And so, on November 2, I descend into the bathroom corridor in the basement,. . . Read more
Charlie Bardey
I Am The Man You Killed In the War, Back To Haunt You Forever In Panlist Form

It begins with an email. It’s from mailman.yale.edu, so it misses the spam filter and goes straight to your inbox. You get the notification during seminar, and you’re sitting right next to the professor, so for the next hour it sits there, unopened, unanswered. You hope that it might be your Lit professor getting back … Continue reading I Am The Man You Killed In the War, Back To Haunt You Forever In Panlist Form

It begins with an email. It’s from mailman.yale.edu, so it misses the spam filter and goes straight to your inbox. You get the notification during seminar, and you’re sitting right next to the professor, so for the next hour it sits there, unopened, unanswered. You hope that it might be your Lit professor getting back to you about her office hours, or maybe word on that internship you applied to last month. Out of class, you pull out your phone and open it. “Welcome Newbies!!”. . . Read more
Micah Osler