Recruit who dropped their sport: Can I work in?
Regular student: Work in Stone? Frist? Campus Club? Work in where?
Overheard at the gym
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River, river, I’m broken/sinking down
It’s 4 in the morning and you’re pulling at my bedsheets again. I’d like to think I’m the boulder willing river water into a million little Vs, the shapes of teeth on parted lip, buzzing. In my memory, you appear on my doorstep dripping, shoes tied up with seaweed and pockets weighed down with shells.…
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Letter to a Professor (From a Disgruntled Parent-Donor)
Dear Lecherous Lecturer Precious Professor, Happy winter. I heard you’re in Vail? Hope the slopes are not destroying your knees. I’m reeling from the news that you gave a D to my son Robert “Torie” George Junior (I abstain from putting pronouns, because obviously). I know that Torie always speaks his mind, his heartfelt opinions.…
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On The Road With Cinderella
The Tigers’ improbable March Madness run—from the perspective of a cheerleader.
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Oh, the Humanities!: Full Design
This week, the Nass gives into its worst impulses, partakes in regional delicacies, and watches carriages turn to pumpkins.
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Imperfect Spaces: The Function of Closeness in Kar-wai’s In the Mood for Love and on Princeton’s Campus
How space cultivates affection, or quells it.
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Bedwaters
“He knew that feeling, his lungs filling up with the glycerin-like fluid of a new day, and himself gargling and grasping for regular air, the air in his bed, the air with the windows closed. He felt small, and had tried imagining other people’s windows, but felt weird because he couldn’t comprehend the number of…
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Consider the Cuy
“Unlike the classic chicken breast, however, the cuy goes from farmhouse to fridge to spit to butcher block to plate in a way that is probably more humane, yet also more graphic, and thus more disturbing. Guinea pigs are cute; cuy, as it turns out, is tasty.”
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Spring March 24
I Now daffodils bloom in watercolor spirit Skies of tender pastel blend into the lingering warmth of caramel breaths in the air. A girl sighs in the distance, going somewhere, smiling occasionally, scowling sometimes at the cherry blossoms or the green grass. She looks at something with hope and worry, maybe about to lose…
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Nass Lists: Primal Urges During My Seminar
We all know the feeling: you’re sitting in your seminar when suddenly you’re overcome by an all-consuming desire to… Crack open my ballpoint pen and drink the ink like it’s a flask Drink a bottle of water like it’s filled with vodka and cause a whole scene for nothing Hit my vape Pull out a…
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Dylan is the New Dante
“More than anything, Dylan and Dante share an unbroken sense of pity for the ‘ill-begotten souls’ of hell. Both in the position of outsiders looking-in, this subversion of time, space, and reality is what makes hell so mystical, and this carnival of characters is what makes hell so unsettling.”
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April Showers: Full Design
This week, the Nass hassles its way into a Miami club, where the room smells like gasoline and the music sounds like Dante.
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Do You Know Him?
“The college world of connections, in my experience, warrants a different type of hassle though. You don’t lick cafeteria floors or have to humiliate yourself to get what you want. It’s more of making the effort of putting yourself out there, of making friends, meeting people, joining clubs.”
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The Personal Politics of the Draft: Nass Recommends Toni Morrison: Sites of Memory
What we can learn from a literary giant’s process of creation.
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On Memories, the Olfactory, and Untimely Death
Minutes before death, a writer reflects upon his life in smells.