It has been brought to our attention that one of you, no need to mention who, has already lost his pledge pin. pledges, this is unacceptable. for this you will be raped as an example to the other pledges. as is customary, a few of us will convene to elect a team of 9 brothers that will systematically but ruthlessly run train on your brown ass. subsequently, you will be beaten with an extension chord [sic] at our discretion. i think it goes without saying that the ceremonies will conclude with the wearing of the persian eye
goggles, i.e. the resting of our scrotums over your eyes. if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to go and fuck yourself.
Overheard on a certain fraternity email list
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Flood: Full Design
The Nass is coming. Find a nice comfy ark and kick your feet up—it’s gonna be a while.
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Princeton’s Organ Lenders
A Nass writer reports on the people responsible for the Princeton chapel’s iconic sounds.
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Renassance: Full Design
This week, the Nass faced death but returned from its sepulcher with new might. Grab a physical issue, or browse through the full design here!
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PRISMS
A Nass writer reports on the launch of a new Gender and Sexuality Studies journal in the context of a federal crackdown on DEI efforts.
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On Chalance
This Nass writer interrogates the phenomena of “chalance,” and the increasing fear of vulnerability
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Falling apart in late december
“I see an estranged version of myself laughing at dinner, responding to texts, asking questions in conversations. I ask her: How are you acting so normal?”
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A Winter’s Loan
“Hidden deep within his heart, he knew this was not his home, and that the cabin’s true owner would inevitably come in the summer once the flowers were in full-bloom.”
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Funky Drinks from my Not Yet Open Café
A Nass writer recommends new coffee shop concoctions, to spice up your life
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Rabbit-hearted, Spring Will Come
“I wish for nothing more than sunlight and steady dreaming – I promise that one of these days we’ll be barefoot and sundazed.”
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The Interview
A Nass writer interviews Rupert Birkin, a central character of D.H. Lawrence’s novel Women in Love.
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Names for a blackened stove
Hear it this evening, rusted lace fingers and remnants of dirty flame. It has a large mouth, though never eyes on that gaping face. Sings with empty room voices: oil and metal, dustrag fumes, wood polish shallows. Groan when the rain starts, red weeds itch behind the house. A voice…
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Surveillance State: Full Design
This week the Nass is on the lookout, and there’s nowhere to hide. Grab a print copy somewhere on campus, or check out the full design below!