Architects are sexy, at least potentially sexy, when young and skinny and opinionated and staring down fellow students Howard Roark-style over a balsa hospital in the basement of the Art and Architecture Building, but not dangerous. They're too wrapped up in themselves to be dangerous. They might talk you to death accidentally. I mean, criminals have to acknowledge your existence somehow before a successful attack, and for most of these people that's not likely.

Then architects grow lovably dorky in middle years with stale idealism, and it's hard to visualize them hurting anybody but themselves. Middle-aged architects' eyeglass choices practically scream out to the world I'm Mr. or Mrs. Fancie Q. Milquetoast, come swipe my wallet for me. And the late years? Nah. C'mon. It's a rough life. Grappling with the zoning board doesn't leave much aggressive juice in a guy, by appearances anyway.

Besides all that apparent harmlessness, architects walk around with an invisible protective layer, an impact-resistant cushy space bubble as thick as a mattress. They walk around inside The Heroic Reputation.

The Heroic Reputation is so noble and all lofty. To be an Architect is to command tons of undeserved respect, from cops and cabdrivers, from random people at receptions and parties, people who couldn't even tell the Parthenon from a paint store. The heroic distortions of that space bubble can make even an ordinarily potato-nosed schlub look commanding and vibrant. "He's an architect." It's a strong cultural assumption, everybody just knows architecture is a noble and intellectual profession, the same way people just know diamonds are valuable. Few other professions have an image so insanely out of whack with its accomplishments. I'm guessing The Reputation is the result of a deliberate, systematic, sinister DeBeers-like mass-hypnosis PR campaign of the AIA in the 20's and 30's.

Those powerful cultural assumptions flash like lightning halfway around the world while common sense is still picking pajama fabric out of its crevices and shuffling into the kitchen to put the kettle on. I know, I know.

But the little faint voice of common sense suggests architects are not on your side. Look around. Look around at what you've got. Take a sharp look at your nearest architectural classic. Think of the last airport you were in. Did you like it? Did it work? How does it make you feel?

And the little faint voice of common sense says architects don't automatically deserve your respect. If you care about fairness, they certainly don't give you much respect. You should hear how they talk about you.

Plunge, if you dare, into the pages of Architectural Record, armed with parsing shears and a Martian-English dictionary, and when you re-emerge for air you'll know that the first architectural priority is a list of meaningless aesthetic preoccupations, the second architectural priority is the feeding of egos, the third priority is to build photographable solids, on and on, and eventually you'll see what not being talked about. The last priority is to 'fulfill the functional requirements' (ew! sounds like work!) and satisfy the client's demands, and all of that is distasteful and philistine and to be ducked if possible. The client should preferably just shut up. If you're paying for the building, you come in last.

If you ever want to use a building somebody else has paid for, God help you - guess what. You're only a user. And you don't count at all.

Some architects demonstrate such sustained and gruesome disregard for users that to stroll into one of their sculptural expressions is like sometimes being vigorously banged on the head with an aluminum cricket bat, chilled beforehand, sometimes like being dropped off by the Space Patrol on Planet Travertine Gulag.

Some architects are criminals. Oh yes. There's a class of respected, well-known starchitects who are nothing more or less than cruel bastards. In their slow-motion, funny-eyeglass-wearing, high-minded way, they're enormously damaging. They can damage two or three generations of public-housing children without exerting themselves. With a little more pride, and a little more eyeshadow, they could be Batvillains.

These aren't just mistakes. It's not neglect we're talking about. To make buildings this bad takes a long apprenticeship and sustained effort. It requires doing more harm than good for a long time.It takes devotion.

That's what it takes to make the Rogue's Gallery.