Author: ,

In Search of the Best Açaí Bowl

“At Princeton, sometimes it feels as though carbs are ubiquitous. Sometimes it’s difficult to bring to mind the last time we ingested a fruit or vegetable that wasn’t in the form of ice cream or dried into a chip. This is exactly what made the introduction of açaí bowls to campus so exhilarating.”

by , on

“I Find Writing Very Painful”: An Interview with Nathan J. Robinson

A Nass writer sits down with Nathan J. Robinson, Editor of ‘Current Affairs’.

by on

My Recollections of the Founding of Nassau Weekly

“I am quite overwhelmed and somewhat surprised that something that I helped get off the ground over as generation ago is still relevant and cherished over 40 years later”

by on

I had a cough all my life. It stood by my side.

Near dusk, we owe an appropriate fear to the light that may not show on the hilly back of the morning beast. Mother takes our picture at sunset. Her finger pushing and begging that button to hold everything still, appeases … Read More

by on

Ode to a Faraway Maiden

“I turned into a constellation, fathomed into form /
By your dispassionate gaze.”

by on

This is what I’ll remember about being a kid:

huddling under the covers and knowing

that if an elbow or toe peeked out,

whatever passing gods there were

would steal it before midnight…

by on

The Neon God

Omens, names, and brushes with death.

by on

2D in 3D

I only knew one member of 2 Dickinson Street, the vegetarian co-op also known as 2D, when I signed up for a meal, though I didn’t know him that well. I didn’t know anyone from my year joining next year, as my friends and I had all joined clubs or went independent.

by on

Reflections from the Backlog —

“There’s always summer to/think/realize/laze./There’s always summer/and the year after that/and the year after that/and the year after that/and the rest of our lives.”

by on

Eschatological Rock

“What’s the point of instruments?/Words are a sawed off shotgun,” cries Radiohead frontman Thom Yorke on the band’s newest studio album, (In Rainbows). How true those words are. It’s not that the music on the band’s newest disc isn’t worth listening to.

by , on

A letter to my TI lover

Dear Guy from TI the other night, aka Mike, aka My Love, My Love, My Love,

What the hell happened? I’m so pissed at you that I can’t even talk to you about it face-to-face. Also, I can’t find you, which makes it harder to talk to you face-to-face. Isn’t this weird? I’m pissed at you, but I still love you. Look at that. So I’ve resorted to writing this letter in the hopes that you’re the one guy who goes to TI who also reads the Nass.

by on

Detour

Money, lawns. Against the least I swerve. I have weathered this strictness crying of past regrets so many!

by on