Nina Carapetyan

We love the Christmas season here at New Times. Every winter we go for strolls along the snowy downtown streets, singing merry carols. We always visit with Christ, who lives beneath the underpass on 15th Avenue. He tells us all about loving thy neighbor and the breaking of bread and...

Gambling has a religious beauty to it: Blind faith, intense dedication, and a neverending hope for redemption form part of the gambler’s creed. Then there’s the glamour associated with it, whose attainment is the very gospel of the game. It is, however, in the act of losing oneself in the...

Filmmakers are often perceived as supreme pricks, especially the ones who make short films in college. What kind of person casts an alarm clock as the main character or uses an alternating flushing/moaning input as the soundtrack? Maybe they wouldn’t submit us to such cruelty if only Daddy had taught...

Your boyfriend’s favorite hobbies include Dumpster-diving for discarded meat and pretending he’s undead when you go for picnics. You feel he views you as too much of a lamb, so you’ve decided to amputate your finger and unveil its sacrificial glory at the Zombie Ball. Somewhere between the musical acts...

Back in high school, you religiously attended shop class. Your burgeoning teenage sexuality expressed itself through a profound fascination with power tools, and you always carried WD-40 in case of unexpected encounters in the proverbial tool shack of your imagination. Even today, cordless drills and heavy-duty miter saws spark a...