If a really good play goes up in a forest, does anyone care? I stumbled into Matthews Acting Studio last Thursday in my usual state— disheveled, confused, busily muttering banalities to imaginary socialites while bundled in my button-less vintage coat.
The night is an exercise in harmony, a lesson in primary colors: Billy, ten, clutches a bottle of WKD blue, rubs his fast-ruddying face. When he lifts his arm for posterity, the salute calls the flame to crawl down the … Read More
I. Barrage of right-handed hooks: Jesus Christ is Lord over Greater Orlando paints diamond fence; tee-shirt on man with bulge reads God is Good; top of tower, a neon cross – God is Love intersects Christ is Savior at the … Read More
Taqueek Runyan was an angry black youth in a town full of them. He was raised in a very religious household by “working class” parents, who—like most of the adults in the northern New Jersey area—were unemployed.
Let’s hope there’s no blue dress (and if there is, that Kerry at least has better taste than Clinton).
John Kerry is accused of having an affair with an intern working in his campaign office. Both News Editor Izzie Lerer and the Nassau Weekly deny the allegations.
Everyone is by now familiar with the fact that hate groups, terror organizations, and rogue states have their own official websites, websites that offer “alternate” versions of history and the truth. It’s already been said.
Realize the President has done something that makes you angry. Very angry. Read what a lot of other angry people have written, mostly from websites and blogs. Quickly formulate your own voice and opinions.
The crowd at Theatre Intime on the opening night of Clouds was definitely “intime”. The number of people on stage was roughly mirrored by the number of people in the audience, which incidentally consisted of close friends (read: relatives) of … Read More
Every so often, perhaps on mornings that are either particularly busy or particularly still, I get the feeling that I am walking through the Princeton campus like a zombie, my face whitened by the seemingly eternal winter, sub-ocular scrota pronounced … Read More
There is something intimately sensual about it, and I’m sure many smokers will agree with me. The elegant dance of fresh hot tobacco smoke rising into the transparent expanse, traversing only for a moment the contours of moving air and then diffusing casually into its surroundings, leaving behind only the stale scent of a bowling alley late at night.