Author:

Saturday Afternoon

“We stood, then sat, like that for a while: just ourselves, so small. It made us feel so together and so apart, as if it were the first day we met.”

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Letter from the Editor on Fossil Fuel Divestment

“In the interest of ensuring a livable future for all generations after us, we at the Nass call on the University by way of its resource committee, its Board of Trustees, and our University President to conduct an immediate and complete divestment from all fossil fuels.”

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On Trains

A Nass writer tackles trains, Monet, and a haunting feeling of passivity.

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Vines, Pt. 2

The dramatic conclusion to a serialized tale of owlery.

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Nass Recommends Dining Hall Snack Hacks

A member of the Nass gets creative with Princeton’s Covid-era dining hall food.

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My Fair Math Tower

“A brutalist chic makes my heart quite weak / Dare I describe the wonders of Fine Hall?”

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Nass-strology: SCOR-A-HOPE (if you’re lucky) Edition

“Most people claim they don’t believe in horoscopes. But admit it. Some days even the best of us take two minutes of our lives to check what information the movements of celestial objects will divine.”

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Only Fans – Full Design

This week, the Nass ponders anxiety, cuts rocks, and gets really into chess.

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On the Shore of the Amygdala

“It’s not the calm before the storm, but the cohabitation of serenity and calamity. It captures the future’s grasp on the present; anxiety is in the very air.”

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Vines, Pt. 1

“Is it too late to go around asking strangers for tylenol?”

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Zaide’s Office, Embodied

“I wondered what kind of philosopher he might have been, having known him only after his thinking and memory had become impaired.”

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First, Nothing

“Let yourself age. Let time press through your skeleton like water, dribbling through your pores, let it sing right through your bones…”

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