After last week's annual kicking aside of editorial content in favor of reader-submitted valentine messages (read: the closest to a Pulitzer as Stranger content is liable to get), this week finds the paper back to its standard botchery. In the feature section we find another blast of wind-baggery from ELI SANDERS, wherein The Stranger's "man on the bus" (read: Metro) tackles the many complications and confounding aspects of superdelegates. Lacking the usual salaciousness and juvenilia found in most Stranger articles, one doubts Sanders's dissertation will find purchase among the paper's slack-jawed readers. That means you probably won't get it, dipshits. Still, any information is good information—at least when it comes to this hotbed of hearsay and bad humor. If it doesn't involve a diagram on proper spliff-rolling techniques, it's progress, I say. So Sanders should be commended for at least managing to put thought to pen to paper—as opposed to tantrum to crayon to wall, as the creative process for most Stranger articles seems to go.

Elsewhere in this issue, we have JOSH FEIT in a sit-down interview with Governor Christine Gregoire. Having known Ms. Gregoire since our days together at the University of Washington (Kappa Delta for her, Alpha Phi for yours truly), I can't help but wonder if her agreeing to sit before Feit's pencil was some sort of ill-advised scheme concocted by her aides in an attempt to court the "youth vote." The Chris I know—and spent many a blissful afternoon with in the spring of 1968 as I offered her, shall we say, a repeated briefing on my stimulus package—has never been one to suffer fools kindly, and one wonders how she was able to keep her eyes from rolling clear out of her head after each of Feit's no-doubt ill-informed, sand-bagging questions. Note to Feit: Leave actual political reporting to the big boys—or, at the very least, your average high-school journalism student. And note to Gregoire: I'll reintroduce that bill any time you're ready to call another special session.

Speaking of reasons to stand up and offer a friendly rider, one PAUL CONSTANT—author of this paper's Constant Reader column, alleged reader of actual books—has now joined The Stranger's staff as a full-time scribbler. Just what, if anything, Constant will bring to this publication remains to be seen (though if the merits of his column are any indication, it will surely be laughable), but I applaud the paper's commitment to giving any half-assed writer of marginal wit a full-time position. Better in the Stranger offices than on the street, I say. This way the DEA, vengeful bookies, deliverers of DNA test results, angry creditors, furious prosecutors, jilted parole officers, broke spouses, and nervous "intervention" specialists will all know just where to find them.