This week's issue is notable for a single contributor: JEN GRAVES, The Stranger's stellar new art critic, whose very first feature for the paper manages to lift the proceedings above the usual cesspool the editors are routinely content to let their pages soak in. Kudos, Ms. Graves. Your words are a blessing for these weary eyes, and my only hope is that your tenure at the paper will be both productive and short-lived. Simply put, you belong elsewhere—as in, anywhere else.Sadly, Ms. Graves's story is but one of many in this week's edition, which is otherwise grotesquely pockmarked, smug, and, as usual, unabashedly offensive. While the editors should rightly be commended for their decision to run the so-called offensive Danish cartoons in last week's paper (a move I would have celebrated if this space hadn't been allocated, along with the bulk of the paper, to the printing of useless valentines), this week finds The Stranger back on more familiar ground: inanity. In fact, aside from Ms. Graves's aforementioned glimmering, there is very little in this week's paper worth discussing. The news section, though thankfully brief, does little more than fill pages; the writing in the arts sections by writers other than Ms. Graves is, per the usual, plucked from various self-important navels; and the columns—from the occasionally sublime (Last Days) to the often stomach-turning (Savage Love, Control Tower, I Love Television, et cetera)—remain, on the whole, meager crutches upon which to support what has become scant more than sheets of emetic designed to sicken the citizens of Seattle on a weekly basis. Every once in a great while, it pains me to admit, The Stranger manages to glow; this week, alas, the bulb remains turned to "off." What's in the Weekly?COVER ART by Mark Danielson