Articles

  • New
  • Old
  • Random

A Yoga Ashram, Donna Tart’s The Secret History, and Discobitch’s C’est Beau la Bourgeoisie

In high school I once wore my Pitbulls for Obama t-shirt (turned muscle tank) — which depicts three pitbulls, a speech bubble attached to one of them, saying “we don’t need no stinking lipstick”…

by on

Balls Dropped: Full Design

In the first issue of Volume 48, the Nass is more back than ever, reading, listening to country music, and getting away from it all.

by on

Letter from the editor

You can read Hunter S. Thompson’s suicide note if you want but only on Genius Lyrics for some reason and only while 50jitsteppa offers up a studio performance of his track “I Know” in a concurrently playing video. It’s sort … Read More

by on

New Year, New Me / I Was Cutting My Fingernails and Eavesdropping

An essay and a poem grappling with spirituality and the self in the wake of the new year

by on

Sorry About the Air Conditioners Being Off: Townes Van Zandt, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and Aesthetic Signatures of Heat

A Nass writer sweats through readings of some outlaw country tunes and a splatter horror classic

by on

A Summer Education in Hawaii

I’m thrilled to be a witness after many uneventful years in suburbia.

by on

Fruit Flies

The end product is a picture with many suns that capture the real in infinitely many instances. Yet it represents nothing of reality.

by on

Of Friendship, Sex, and Bacon

How to conceal, expose, and generally deal with the high stakes of early February

by on

The Brain Behind the Brush: Uncovering Mary Blair’s Animation Legacy

Your favorite Disney animations were the product of invisibilized women’s labor.

by on

High Rise: Full Design

In the final issue of volume 47, the Nass pays a visit to President Clinton’s stomping grounds, cries with Joyce Carol Oates, and does or does not do drugs in the Bay Area.

by on

Did a Top Science Journal Publish a Creationist Paper?

Dumb logic and intelligent design in a recent Nature article.

by on

July

“By the eighth day words had begun to fail me. I thought in silent images. It was hot. We ate greedily, excessively, grilled meat on the bone, whole fish smiling up from the table, savory noodles prepared in cold sesame sauce with fresh cucumber. I sat around for hours after lunch feeling uncomfortably full.”

by on