Articles

  • New
  • Old
  • Random

Princeton Cemetery: Can You Dig It?

…The gravedigger’s laugh turns to hacking as he takes off his soiled gloves and exposes his hands, which are caked with cemetery earth…

Come closer, come closer (my pretty, my sweet): let me feel your weight on my chest, the rubber soles of your sneakers marking my skin pink. I feel you, lingering, some feet away—hesitant, glancing shyly at this patch of grass, not raising your eyes to the stone that marks it…

by on

St. Louis, Missouri

When asked where I would like to work when I join the movement dubbed “education reform” in order to insure that students in urban areas have access to a quality education, I asked myself if I would, should, consider working … Read More

by on

Slow Food Nation

Since 1989, Slow Food International has grown to include 150 chapters around the world. Kathryn Andersen ’08, a senior in the department of French and Italian, became enamored with the Slow Food movement since her sophomore summer after interning for “Greening Princeton,” an organization of Princeton grads and undergrads who work with the administration to improve environmental sustainability practices on campus. She petitioned to make Princeton one of the first four Slow Food International chapters based in University campuses.

by on

Welcome to WolfWorld

There’s only wolves and people left.

by on

Celebrity and Anonymity

On February sixteenth, at author and professor Joyce Carol Oates’ reading in McCormick Hall, the front rows of the auditorium are filled with a veritable Who’s Who of campus luminaries.

by on

The Transatlantic Professor

“It’s hard to know what the Booker means in America. Americans aren’t eligible. Does that make them lose interest, or does it give the prize a mystique?” Alan Hollinghurst wondered aloud during an interview last week in his office at 185 Nassau.

by on

Prisoners

“The road unreels beside us, / Slicing the moonshade.”

by on

Rules of Pool

Here’s a proposal. Next time you play pool, ignore the rule that scratching on the eight-ball makes you lose. Hold on, that’s madness: That’s like the main rule in pool. In my small experience, a frustrating majority of games of … Read More

by on

Getting Handed a Q-Tip

Near the end of the whole ordeal, when she has become short of breath and the coughing is wet and yellow and particularly productive, my mother sits cross-legged in the crook of our brown couch, a wool blanket wrapped tight around her shoulders, searching madly for her last words.

by on

A Short Imagined Monologue By A Guy Trying To Trick A Student To Prox Him In In Order To Break Into A Dorm And Has Prepared For This Moment By Hanging Around Frist A Few Days

“Listen, I just got in on the Dinkory…”

by on

The Male Gaze

As I sat in the darkness of the Black Box theater, the words of Maude, Julianne Moore’s character in The Big Lebowski, echoed through my head. I did not know what to expect from these mysterious Vagina Monologues. As a man, I was prepared to be confronted, prepared to be unwelcome

by on

About Amaechi

I haven’t really paid attention to professional basketball since the last time Patrick Ewing sweated all over the Garden’s courtside seats. I used to love the NBA, and almost everything about it, but my fandom lapsed several years ago; as I write this, the All-Star Game is going on, and I’m watching “Patch Adams.” (I love it when Robin Williams cries.) Yet in the last week or so, my attention has returned to roundball, and specifically, to the story of John Amaechi.

by on