Swarm Dynamics
Ants aren't smart. Ant colonies are. Now we're studying how that works.
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Working With Fishbones
Courtney Scott fills us in on the life of an archeology undergraduate. It's not perzackly like Lara Croft or Indiana Jones.
The Condor's Head
Ferdinand Mount's new novel features the Marquis de Condorcet, Thomas Jefferson, the Duke and Duchess de la Rochefoucauld, Jefferson's secretary William Short, Sally Hemings, Lafayette, and Robespierre—seldom, according to Adam Thorpe, to their credit.
Well, Some Things Haven't Changed
What's amazing (and absolutely obvious, depending on how you look at it) is that I listen to music differently now. I mean, my teenage ears don't have very much in common with my soon-to-be 30 year old ears.
Let Us Remember Happier Times
When our city and our lives were graced by Beverly Sills.
Bert Jansch, Guitar God
I've been a Bert Jansch fan since the mid-sixties. Naturally, when he played my hometown recently, I was forced to be elsewhere.
Wes Phillips Bids a (Temporary) Farewell
The March 1999 issue of <I>Stereophile</I> is my last as the magazine's Equipment Reports Editor. I have accepted a job elsewhere in the industry, and, as a public relations consultant, will be actively promoting this wonderful hobby of ours in a different capacity.
I Like Red Butts and I Can Not Lie
Perhaps trichromatic vision serves an evolutionary purpose other than choosing ripe fruit. <I>nudge, nudge, wink, wink.</I>
Getting Medieval
"'When you say <I>fantasy</I>,' said a tall, pale, blonde woman, 'you think <I>medieval</I>. So: Why?'
Katie Roiphe, Gay Divorcee
"In the weeks after my husband moved out, I received an email from someone offering to help me clean the house or cook, an email that evokes images of dishes piling up in the sink, flies hovering around half-eaten peanut-butter sandwiches, laundry accumulating. I wonder where these nightmarish visions of our domestic situation are coming from. Why would the departure of my husband launch me and my daughter into a life of squalor? Someone else writes: 'There are no words for a catastrophe of this magnitude. I am thinking of you.' And it begins to seem as if my husband has, in fact, not moved five minutes away but died."