The only spectacular thing about The Stranger's editorial staff is their rather breathtaking ability to squeeze 10 pounds of dung into a 5-pound bag. In terms of the number of advertisements, this week's printed copy of The Stranger is positively anemic, but the editorial staff has packed each and every page with more wistful bitterness, incoherent ramblings, and insensate name-calling than you would find in a half-dozen retirement communities.

NEWS: Instead of any news, we are treated to the opinions of DOMINIC HOLDEN and his lockstep hackettes GOLDY, ELI SANDERS, and CIENNA MADRID, who collectively weigh in with their opinions about who should win your vote in the primary. Remember: These are the sleaze merchants who foisted Mayor McGinn on this unwitting city; can you really trust their judgment?

FEATURE: In a rare departure from the usual unreadable pieces about the deep-bore tunnel and unrepentant Republicans, this week's feature is a chapter excerpted from a forthcoming book on the topic of humiliation by one WAYNE KOESTENBAUM. According to my assistant, Mr. Koestenbaum is a poet, a homosexual, and a biographer of known homosexuals, among other meaningless accomplishments. After finding a copy of Humiliation on editor in chief CHRISTOPHER FRIZZELLE's desk and flipping it open to a sentence that read, "Is it humiliating to be a prostitute?" I decided to investigate no further. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Frizzelle, a man so seasoned in humiliation we ought to just put him on the grill, is hosting a party at a rock and roll venue featuring Mr. Koestenbaum next week, along with a collection of Frizzelle's personal favorite musicians and artists—an event to which The Stranger is selling tickets. Yet again, the line between editorial content and advertising is conveniently swept aside.

BOOKS: This week, LINDY WEST babbles about some sort of children's fairy tale. At least PAUL CONSTANT's soporific ditherings are nowhere to be found; one wonders, with a thrill, whether his pasty, lumpy posterior has finally been kicked to the curb.

THEATER: In a desperate attempt to cling to relevancy (and his job) for one more week, GOLDY "reviews" a play for children at Seattle's dumbest theater. Someone should introduce Goldy to the works of Aeschylus and watch the poor sop drool himself to death...

VISUAL ART: Thankfully missing this week...

CHOW: BETHANY JEAN CLEMENT manages to walk three whole blocks from The Stranger's offices to write glowing advertising copy for another restaurant. Miss Clement's only virtue is her blatant transparency...

MUSIC: BRENDAN KILEY, drugs, so-called musicians. Didn't read, obviously...

FILM: Based on the alternating vapidity and obtuseness of The Stranger's film section, film is dead, and no one cares.