1. The feature story this week is an extraordinary piece by FARHAD DOLATIZADEH about being a gay Iranian. Everything about this feature, from the high quality of its writing to its bighearted tolerance of family members who did not initially understand the narrator's homosexuality, is a perfect example of what Stranger writing could and should be. So why isn't more of The Stranger like this?
2. As a counterpoint to the above piece, consider ANSEL HERZ's news story about a proposed cycle track on Westlake Avenue. It begins, hyperbolically, with the sentence "This is how Seattle betrays itself," causing one's eyeballs to roll back in one's head so far that reading any further may be impossible. Sure, Herz may have a decent point hidden somewhere in this diatribe, but he blunts his point by referring to opponents as—yes, this is a direct quote—"nutballs," and by framing the story as an existential battle for the soul of the city. In any other issue of The Stranger, this would be the kind of slop that a callused reader would skim over. But in an issue of The Stranger featuring Dolatizadeh's essay, Herz's deficiencies become obvious—even embarrassing. Do you believe Herz and other Stranger staffers might resent Dolatizadeh for "raising the bar" to a level that is, for them, unattainable?
3. In another, even less ambitious part of the paper, BETHANY JEAN CLEMENT sets out to identify the best seafood restaurants in all of Seattle. This is, of course, supposed to be a "definitive" guide. (Remember when The Stranger used to mock Seattle Metropolitan magazine for their vapid listicle formats that claimed absolute authority over Seattle's food and culture scenes? How the tables have turned, eh?) On a scale from one to ten, rate Ms. Clement's trustworthiness as a restaurant critic, with ten being "I trust her implicitly" and one being "I would sooner trust a wharf rat to dictate my seafood dining options." Support your rating with evidence.
4. Meanwhile, ANNA MINARD writes about, you guessed it, the $15-an-hour minimum wage. Body-language experts explain how to feign surprise thusly: Elevate your eyebrows, widen your eyes, and open your mouth. Try it out yourself. In your opinion, is there a living actor who could convincingly pretend to be surprised by, much less interested in, Minard's ceaseless minimum-wage prattle? Could Bronson Pinchot? Anthony Hopkins? Meryl Streep? 
