In front of Hamilton:
The building is called Hamilton, so it should not come as a surprise that the statue adorning its entrance be named after history's most famed man of that name. It is a time honored tribute to the great Alexander Hamilton, the premiere federalist of the early post-colonial era. One would think he'd be proud to hold a place on Morningside campus. However, when asked about it in a recent office seance, Mr. Hamilton responded, "Poppycock! Why that looks not a thing like me." Later, when asked if he would like to impart any wisdom to our readers he replied: "All I know is that there is no personal hell greater than the eternal knowledge that one has been shot to death by Aaron Burr."

In front of Pulitzer (Journalism):
We can credit Industrial Light and Magic for their fine work on this statue. The story goes that Pulitzer, not wanting to be outdone by Alfred Lerner, had Thomas Jefferson -- womanizer, slaveholder, and absentee President -- exhumed and frozen in carbonite. Thankfully, to this day, his vengeful spirit has been greatly overshadowed by that of Lerner himself.

On the steps of Low Library:
Though you may not have noticed, Alma Mater is an image that appears a great many times in conjunction with the name Columbia. Now I did a bit of research into this and came upon reliable information stating that the throne Ms. Mater sits upon is the throne of Dionysus -- Grecian god of wine. By association this makes our dear bountiful mother one of the maenads -- mythical women possessing occult powers who would scamper about in drunken herds ripping men limb from limb. This explains Barnard.

In front of Uris:
Close your eyes and imagine a giant disproportionate paper clip in the hands of a madman with too much free time. Once that picture is in your mind, you may open your eyes and experience true horror. Yes, I assure you the unnatural obscenity before you is quite real. Just as real, in fact, as the hopelessly phallic bushes which line the front of Uris like the Legion of Doom. Oh, and just in case anyone important is reading this, I think -- and I'm not alone on this -- that Uris is a really terrible name. Is there any way we can get that changed, like a petition or something?

In front of Seely W. Mudd:
Okay, so the statue in front is called Le Marteleur; that I understand. What I don't get is how Mudd can be so damned cheap. I mean Hamilton's got his own likeness, Pulitzer's got Jefferson, and Mudd's got some French guy nobody knows, paid for by the frikkin' class of '89. Come on man! Chances are if you'd spent more money they might actually still refer to it by your name instead of just as Engineering Terrace.

Charles H. Revson Plaza:
"Tightrope Walkers" is pretty self explanatory, and the giant hip bone is a classic example of a scuptor whose minor was in something with little artistic value -- like Math or Philosophy. However, if you'll turn your attention to the lawn, a more intriguing mystery presents itself. Called "Life Force," this piece was sculpted by David Bakalar in 1988 and clearly has little to do with life or the Force. However, this journalist is not fooled. As you will notice, the date 1988 is not long after the foundation of the Star War's project. Clearly this is an alien communication device, which -- as we all know from watching ET -- can be accessed via a TI manufactured Speak and Spell with alien language mode enabled. Yet one more of the many ways we have concocted to rain screaming alien death upon our Communist foes. Hooray for America!

In front of Arthur W. Diamond Law Library:
Nietzche once said that if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you. However, I fail to see what the confusion is here. Clearly it's a peagasus riding a man with a scorpion's tail -- even the Spectator could have told you that. What one has to remember is that lawyers are not, by nature, artistic people. 'Nuff said.