The liberal ninnies at The Stranger have scraped together their beer money to bring a new "writer" on staff. This new employee has been weblogging for years (at an internet concern with an unprintable name) under the nom de guerre GOLDY. I assume the ridiculous nickname is an attempt to hide this anonymous weblogger from any repercussions that may arise from libelous statements or misrepresentations of fact. (Still, his disguise is flimsy enough to fall apart under the slightest scrutiny; my contacts have revealed him as one David Goldstein, a middle-aged "progressive" activist with a background in theater and a fondness for alcohol. Aren't you a little old to be playing around with children at a pretend newspaper, Mr. Goldstein?)
This week marks Mr. Goldstein's debut as a full-time Stranger employee, and as far as debuts go, it is highly inauspicious: He lists the amount of taxes paid and the government services rendered in return for each Washington county, and he then applies those figures to each county's ideological leanings. His thesis, of course, is that Republicans are bigger leeches on the system than the welfare queens of King County. Mr. Goldstein's facts are as cattywampus as his career trajectory: He neglects the conservative parts of King County, such as Bellevue, which has been electing "Diamond" Dave Reichert to Congress for years now (despite Mr. Goldstein's illogical railings to the contrary). Further, he ignores the 8th District, the good people of Maple Valley, and all the other engines of production that keep Washington running despite the best efforts of Christine Gregoire and her cronies. If all good conservatives were to "go Galt," we would see how quickly this straw man Goldstein has constructed would fall apart.
The majority of this week's Stranger consists of reader-generated content: specifically, valentines. This is a ghastly opportunity to witness the illiteracy and inanity of thousands of average Stranger readers as they attempt to woo one another with mongrel English. I shuddered so much while trying to decode these rut-happy telegrams of the damned that my help wondered whether I was suffering a fit of epileptic pique. Turn your eyes away from this, and we shall pretend it never happened.
Elsewhere: NEWS: The resident cop-hating Latina proffers a postmortem of The Stranger's disastrous police accountability forum... VISUAL ART: The lily-white Miss Graves tries to "get ethnic" with an artist named Ming Wong... BOOKS: Like everyone else, didn't read... CHOW: Miss West eats a burger, rattles off a few hundred words about raccoons, has the audacity to consider it a "review"... MUSIC: Mr. Schmader scribbles a long essay about a televised ceremony, as if televised ceremonies ever have anything to do with worthy music... SAVAGE LOVE: Genitals simply aren't as interesting as Mr. Savage would have us believe.