Readers of the Future,

With biscuits, we welcome you to the Nassau Weekly and a new year. Whether you have read our every issue or not one, this present page-bundle is somewhat atypical. The work of this Nassau Weekly is not the work of a week but of a year—the best and most representative of it, in our opinion.

When, with your working hand, you turn this page leftward, what you will find is the energetic mixture of content that is our paper—the Nass’s—highest quality: in-depth reporting on Princeton and Prospect Avenue, perspicacious cultural criticism and music reviews, personal histories, reflections, delightful poems, satires and dirty jokes. This mixture reflects the happy range of our staff’s personalities, interests, styles, and tones.

Our pages are blank. Our paper has no agenda other than encouraging the multiple, imaginative students of Princeton to write what they wish and publishing what they write. We celebrate all contributions of all shades so long as they somehow contribute—inform or explain, comment or critique, evoke. And so, the Nass is each year shaped by returning writers and new writers in equal measure.

We invite you to join our paper this year, to shape it anew with us. No experience is required in order to write for us—or to help with graphic design and business operations, or copy-edit, or photograph. In truth, no contribution is necessary to join our wonderful, healthy community of writers and friends and strangers, which is as receptive to new folk as are these leaves.

We meet twice a week to brainstorm and have gleeful moments of youth. These meetings are gapingly open. If you’d like to be notified of them, shoot a snail to thenassauweekly@gmail.com. We’d be delighted to have you.

For now, enjoy your perusal and this Dank First Week—

The Editors