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Category: Arts

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Erotomania and Castration Anxiety in USG President M. Margolin

Although I will perhaps be labeled as crude and sensational, I should like to turn the light of psychoanalysis on Mr. M. Margolin, the president of the Undergraduate Student Government.

by Ari Samsky on February 18, 2004March 17, 2013

Gros-Câlin

If you ask me who my favorite writer is, I’ll probably say Albert Camus, because I love his writing and his ideas and also because his name is recognizable and thus me liking him helps construct a certain image of me. But I am less moved by Camus and the Nobel-prize-crowned glory of his rhetoric than by one more obscure author, whose ideas boil down to little more than a grammar of unhappiness: my favorite novelist, Romain Gary.

by Emily Lever on May 2, 2013May 6, 2013

I had a cough all my life. It stood by my side.

Near dusk, we owe an appropriate fear to the light that may not show on the hilly back of the morning beast. Mother takes our picture at sunset. Her finger pushing and begging that button to hold everything still, appeases … Read More

by Tamara Spitzer-Hobeika on May 1, 2008March 17, 2013

Statuesque

Dear Mr. Eastman, I don’t speak to just anyone. That’s by choice. Most people say really really dumb things. Even when they have the chance to figure out what they’re going to say beforehand. Like on the news. Ms. Fuchsia-blazer … Read More

by Porter White on March 29, 2006March 17, 2013

The Wind on Ganja Bridge

A Poem.

by Pulane Mpotokwane Mpotokwane on March 27, 2008March 17, 2013

Naked

Monday evening at ten of seven, I finish my dinner at Rocky dining hall, walk down Witherspoon Street to the Arts Council of Princeton, and make my way to the theater on the second floor. Minutes later I stand in the center of the room on a podium, naked, with the eyes of a dozen middle-aged strangers trained on me.

by Doug Wallack on December 5, 2013December 7, 2013

Arcosanti

Three years ago, I stared up at the stars in the northern Arizona desert. I felt the smooth concrete of stargazing steps against my back.

by Lara Norgaard on April 4, 2015

North

Coming up a stairwell, I stop. A custodian, a man holding a feather duster, has also stopped at the midway landing to let two women pass. They descend to the landing, past the man and the duster, then past me, … Read More

by Porter White on May 11, 2006March 17, 2013

Poems

Dear Julia, our discussion regarding why ants
can lift up such relatively massive bits of plants
was inconclusive. So was our fitful tête à tête.

by Meredith Root-Bernstein on April 7, 2004March 17, 2013

Come Inside

Offstage at the Vagina Monologues

by Maddy Pauchet on February 26, 2017July 21, 2017

Yo, man…I’m feeling this

We here at the Nass are great lovers of literature and, if we do say so ourselves, the latest in a long line of great participators in the epic, Wilsonian tradition of the precept. We love few things more than a lively precept involving a close, thoughtful reading of a poem and an exhilarating discussion of poetic technique.

by Nass Editors on October 11, 2006March 17, 2013

Old Europe, Astral America

“France is just a country. America is a concept.”
-Jean Baudrillard

by Hal Parker on December 14, 2005March 17, 2013


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