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Aiko Offner

  • Modern Love

    Modern Love

    Apr 10, 2025

    —

    by

    Aiko Offner
    in Fiction

    “We went a year without sleeping with one another. The act of speaking was already intimate enough.”

  • The Ills of Talent: A Manifesto

    The Ills of Talent: A Manifesto

    Apr 10, 2025

    —

    by

    Lucy McWeeny
    in Essays

    The talent-less of the world, unite!

  • Call of Duty: VR Training with the Princeton Police

    Call of Duty: VR Training with the Princeton Police

    Apr 10, 2025

    —

    by

    Frankie Solinsky Duryea
    in Second Look

    Patrol Officer Andre Lee sees a suicidal woman staring off the edge of a building with a bright desert-like landscape behind her; he hears the woman’s melancholic voice and the sound of whipping wind. I see Officer Lee standing alert in the middle of the Princeton Police Department (PPD) training facility, the cloudy mid-morning February…

  • Counter Cultures

    Counter Cultures

    Apr 10, 2025

    —

    by

    Wendy Wang
    in Essays

    Some lesser-known identities of a counter, however you define it, recognizing the dangers of slipping into the full absurdist guerrilla art territory of #notmakingsense.

  • On Umwelt: Experience as a Shapeable Thing

    On Umwelt: Experience as a Shapeable Thing

    Apr 10, 2025

    —

    by

    Mia Mann-Shafir
    in Essays

    What if we can find control over our experience of the world just by shifting our attention?

  • Counterculture: Full Design

    Counterculture: Full Design

    Apr 9, 2025

    —

    by

    nassauweekly
    in Full Designs

    The Nass is a rebel without a cause. A tortured creature. A little dog with a big bite. This week, we’re counterculture.

  • Anthracnose: An Exodus

    Anthracnose: An Exodus

    Apr 5, 2025

    —

    by

    Davina Thompson
    in Poetry

    Leaves cascade from the oak,  to which my parents swore,  stems diseased  by my sins? I trace the veins anyway,  hoping they will lead me  to their quiet, promised land.   It lies within  a barren forest.  where whispers linger, taunting as they pray for me.  I am lost, trying to find my breath. I…

  • A Cacophony of Swallows in Flight: Full Design

    A Cacophony of Swallows in Flight: Full Design

    Apr 5, 2025

    —

    by

    nassauweekly
    in Full Designs

    Check out our newest issue in collaboration with the Blacks Arts Collective here, or pick up a copy somewhere on campus!

  • A Letter from the Curators

    A Letter from the Curators

    Apr 5, 2025

    —

    by

    Nsebong Adah, Star Ross, Zavier Foster
    in Uncategorized

    The Black Arts Collective is a group of Black artists on campus that come together to think about the world around us and create our responses to it. Across various mediums including painting, dance, sculpture, photography, and film, we have established a generational conversation within shared frameworks. We have notoriously avoided institutionalization and a formal…

  • Letter from the Editors

    Letter from the Editors

    Apr 5, 2025

    —

    by

    Alex Norbrook, Frankie Solinsky Duryea
    in Letter from Editor

    Dear Readers,   This week, the Nassau Weekly and the Black Arts Collective try something new. As part of our efforts to link this campus’ artistic worlds, this special issue comprises content created by Collective members, which has been edited by Nass staff and co-curated by the leadership of our two respective groups. This special…

  • Auction

    Auction

    Apr 5, 2025

    —

    by

    Deity
    in Poetry

    introducing the body  size thirty-four B tits, forty-four round hips slim twenty-nine-inch waist  thick thighs I used to once hate  a gap so spaced that words fly out of it a forehead so big you could play chess on it  brown skin, lips thin  height small, not tall  disclaimer of the body  I can’t be…

  • Blackness in Residence

    Blackness in Residence

    Apr 5, 2025

    —

    by

    Christopher Butcher
    in Poetry

    The Amistad sails a silent scream across the sea.  In its wake, a dark tapestry woven with violence.  Mouths in the hold lie open, inaudible, begging for the nothingness that is everything.    On this ship, terror lurks.  A violence of abstraction separates Black from man and kills him twice, Discarding his body like dead…

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Princeton's weekly alternative magazine since 1976.