While The Stranger devotes 52 issues a year to the gleeful promotion of immoral buggery, homosexuals have declared America to be in the throes of "Pride weekend," which means that this could quite possibly be the gayest issue of The Stranger to be produced all year. The only way the paper could be gayer this week would be if it were printed on rainbow paper with glitter ink, and nude photographs of gay icons Burt Reynolds and Rhea Perlman were published in dueling centerfolds.
The ink-stained mutants have cobbled together a package of "think pieces" centered around the most pressing homosexual issue of the day. No, not which shoes match with which Speedo—apparently, the paper's gaggle of barely literate degenerates have decided that the hot topic is (yawn) same-sex marriage. With names like DAN SAVAGE, ELI SANDERS, AMY J. RUIZ, and PAUL CONSTANT befouling bylines, one would naturally expect the package to be monosyllabic, effeminate, and genital obsessed. And one, of course, would be right. For page after God-defying page, this year's Queer Issue is a clown car of doltish debauchery—overstuffed and seemingly never ending.
While most thinking people will rightly flip past this offensive blather, one specific entry earns a special perch in hell, an entry, rather unsurprisingly, penned by none other than CHARLES MUDEDE. Titled "How Not to Get Married: For Love," Mudede's screed—reproduced, no doubt, from a wine-soaked cocktail napkin—takes an indefensible and outrageous stand in favor of arranged marriages. Worse, he has the temerity to drag his young daughter into the argument in order to declare the poor girl as little more than property to be traded in order to ascend the capitalist ladder. Setting aside the sheer inanity of his argument, the idea of Mr. Mudede's seed having found purchase in an unsuspecting womb is enough to transform even the most God-fearing individual into an antireproductive sodomite.
Elsewhere in hebetudinous offerings, let us turn to the Stranger news squad, which this week tackles such issues as drunk driving, landlords, the seemingly endless Seattle Sonics trial, and more, with all the tenacity of a first-year journalism student goofed up on speedballs—with quality of reporting to match. Note to news editor ERICA C. BARNETT: If, when you were promoted, you were asked to keep the section on par with the efforts of your predecessor, you are a success. And that's not intended as a compliment.
Finally, taking a gander through this week's arts coverage, we find section after section absolutely brimming with content. While such a high page count is no doubt a point of pride among the paper's advertising staff, for those of us forced to wade through the infested waters, such a deep pool leads to a painful itch in the shorts. Better to stick to the shallow end, where the likes of ANNIE WAGNER, BRENDAN KILEY, and the entire music staff can do far less damage.