It seemed like any other night at the movies. To the left I spotted the requisite young couple on their first date alternating between watching previews and attempting awkward conversation. Down in front lounged the raucous band of teenagers brazenly … Read More
It was a story of college rivalries, of angst, of failed attempts, and finally, of defeat. From the moment the curtain went up, the audience knew that Princeton was the underdog in Saturday night’s football game against Penn: their fans were more enthusiastic, their costumes more aesthetically appealing, heck, even their band was slightly more organized. Unlike the outcome in those heart-wrenching football movies where the team without a chance beats the ten-year state champions after an inspiring pep talk by some famous actor, however, this story did not have a feel-good ending.
This past Sunday, three of the Nassau Weekly’s best-trained sabermetricians compiled data from Princeton Facebook in order to rank the graduating class of seniors in an objective and accurate manner according to a single metric: notoriety. This was not hard. No computer programs were required, although they might have helped. All the team had to do was log in to facebook.princeton.edu, run an Advanced Search for the class of 2009, and copy one piece of information from each of the 1,198 profiles: Profile Views.
The President of Italy and his three friends, a Duke, a Magistrate and a Bishop, sit at the head of a table surrounded by teenage SS officers, a few older women, and about twenty young boys and girls. Some of the youths are dressed in suits and dresses, others in their underwear, while still others sit naked. A nude girl emerges from the kitchen with a large tray of steaming shit…
~and~
There is a neighborhood on the outskirts of a city with a lousy bar and grimy brick buildings and orange lamps in the alleys. There are towns where in the deep hours of night cars prowl the streets full of dumb menace. Vague criminals and edgy losers grope at women dressed in cheap finery and the sex is drunken and ugly and brief…
My father stands roasting in his black neoprene wetsuit, a surfboard jammed under each arm so that he looks like he might just take off at any moment. In his face I find memories, sewn in amongst the creases and … Read More
In the final issue of volume 47, the Nass pays a visit to President Clinton’s stomping grounds, cries with Joyce Carol Oates, and does or does not do drugs in the Bay Area.
How many times have you heard a friend or acquaintance congratulate herself on her ability to bullshit?
…
Funny thing: currently, the best-selling book at the U-Store is called On Bullshit.