Category: Arts

Transient Stupor

A photo essay as a chronicle of decay.

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A Day in the Life of Lil’ Kim

“Got a man in Japan and a dude in Tahiti, Believe me sweety I got enough to feed the needy.” Lil’ Kim, “The Jump Off” I do have a man in Japan and a dude in Tahiti. The Tahitian natives … Read More

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The Greatest Debate

Two art history majors argue the most crucial issue of our time: Which Princeton plastic water bottle is better?

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What a Catch!

A man, Dave
A dog, Charlie
A woman, Alice

—no dialogue is audible—

The action opens on a bright sunny spring day on a residential street of a bustling city. Music: chipper.

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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

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Fleshed Out

Warm Up Drawing – ten minutes “Ten minutes on the egg-timer…and…go!” I barked softly. The carpeted block staged the model’s gangly flesh, her nakedness roosting on fuzzy gray institutional carpeting. Her back was slightly arched, and her breasts quivered over … Read More

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21 Club

Editor’s Note: A 21 Club member from the distant past offered the Nass a brief glimpse into their ritual.

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The Good Old Days

A couple weeks ago, legendary shoegaze band My Bloody Valentine released their first album in twenty-two years. The press surrounding the release of m b v was as extensive as any I’ve seen for a musical release in quite a long time. Why? What’s the big deal about this band coming back after so long?

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All the Pretty Corpses

Cormac McCarthy has established himself as one of the great American authors of the 20th century. His magnificent Border Trilogy, comprised of All the Pretty Horses, The Crossing, and Cities on the Plain, told the hardscrabble yet ethereal tale of … Read More

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A Note To Mr. Python

I call you my friend, Mr. Python.

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Hang Up

And imagine my heel a hook around your ear – my other against your chest, the rest of my leg singing. Stay there, crush ripping hair from the bud, the best part thrash: from the shove. or the bouncy ball … Read More

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Looking At a Childhood Afternoon, As From a Moving Car

Looking back, I can recount— although perhaps, at times, incompletely, and often, I admit, sensationally—— a brief episode between my four-year-old self and a close childhood friend: a young girl named Mary, similarly diminished in age and stature, a miniature co-star, with whom I shared an afternoon that I will always remember.

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