First Voice Message: Today, Friday, the 3rd, 4:27 a.m. — The sounds of Manhattan circa 3 a.m., most noticeably an earnestly diegetic purring. — Hey, man, I know it’s been awhile. — Palpable, nay, precocious, slurring — I’m calling to … Read More
by the Editors on
This past Sunday, three of the Nassau Weekly’s best-trained sabermetricians compiled data from Princeton Facebook in order to rank the graduating class of seniors in an objective and accurate manner according to a single metric: notoriety. This was not hard. No computer programs were required, although they might have helped. All the team had to do was log in to facebook.princeton.edu, run an Advanced Search for the class of 2009, and copy one piece of information from each of the 1,198 profiles: Profile Views.
by Conor Gannon on
“A lot of sawdust written on this subject—a lot of sawdust. Don’t read any of it.”
—Isaiah Berlin, on ‘natural law’
by John Nelson on
Dear Wise Wendy,
I can’t reach the top shelf in my house, but I need to get something out of it! What do I do?
From,
Shorty with a Problem
by Wise Wendy on
In writing about the pillow fight that took place on Friday, April 17 in front of the Frist Campus Center, I feel it is my duty to report as accurately as possible the events that transpired up to and during those ten idyllic minutes of being bathed in feathers. The following report is as honest and strictly detailed as my mind would allow.
by Zack Newick on
My grandfather bore a striking resemblance to Benito Mussolini in physique and temperament.
by Luca Barone on
All men lusted for the firebrand they called Flaming Tina, famed for the molten fire in her hair — and for the hot temper running fierce through the noble Scblood of Lady Valentina Kennedy. Forced into marriage with the fearsome warrior of an enemy clan, Tina vowed to use her wild beauty to gain mastery over Lord Ramsay Douglas. Women hungered to be pressed against his steely chest … and men feared the brawn and rage of Black Ram Douglas. Ram swore he would make the defiant Valentina a dutiful wife after he had broken her hellion’s pride. But the girl he set out to tame became the woman who taught him what it meant to be ardently, maddeningly, gloriously tempted.”
by Emily Dunlay on
This continues a series of interviews with the paper’s founders conducted to mark thirty years of the Nass.
by Oliver Roe on
I am at a lecture. A lot of the people here are old, but I am kind of young. I am eighteen, which is young but not young like people say I am. I have not been twelve for six years, and when I take off my clothes, don’t say I look so young. I will not put out. Anyway. I am going to a lecture and when I reach to pull up my pants in the bathroom stall, I realize I’m not wearing underwear. I’m not wearing underwear, and I’m not wearing a belt, and probably the man who was sitting behind me (who is old) will see my ass when I sit down again. Everyone is dressed nicely except for me and my bare ass. I am only at this lecture because Kevin sometimes looks like a puppy. This is a narrative, kind of. This is a kind of narrative.
by Margaret Sullivan on
The 1998 Lincoln Town Car Every Lincoln Town Car manufactured from 1981 to 1997 has a functionless red strip running the length just above its rear bumper. On a highway at night, this strip is dull, unreflective and visible. In … Read More
by Seymour Hersch on
If you’re the kind of person who treats pop music like the Plague, I’ve got news for you: You’re missing out. This March saw the release of one of the most ambitious and exhilarating albums of the year, and it’s quite defiantly pop-tastic. Certainly in its ingredients, The-Dream’s “Love Vs. Money” is no different from most other high-budget pop records. It’s filled with stuttered percussion, growling synths, and syncopated auto-tune vocals, as well as those Atlanta chants that have become a regular fixture of chart-toppers recently — you know, that slurred and drunken “ayyyy” that seems to make up the chorus of every rap single these days.
by Adam Tanaka on