Dear friends,

Wildfire haze has made this summer season one for spectating. Two hundred and fifty American years came and went, a milestone received passively, if willingly. In our first issue of the semester, I am happy to report that new contributors refreshingly shift our focus. 

Something about summertime makes me want to use lots of words that start with the letter s. It’s a sticky season, a sweet season, a time for serendipity and salaciousness and sports and the sand. 

Subject of this week’s Nass-induced fever dream: post-colonial cuisine, scrapbooking, and sexual fantasies of our lord and savior, Jesus Christ.

Sanctimoniously, 

Sasha Rotko, EIC