Today we see if the House can pass our "rescue package."

Salon's Mike Madden comes out and says it: Palin did better (speaking in her "nasal snow-belt honk") than we expected but she still lost.

The Prince of Petworth wants to know where to find the best BBQ in the city.

I know their pain: students at Georgetown were sickened by norovirus, the most disgusting, awful, terrible short-term illness I've ever had. And for some reason, I still eat oysters.

This is weird: the U.S. is now requiring young imigres to get the HPV vaccine before they move here.

Oooh, snap! Conservative kids in Fairfax say the library banned their books. Titles like "I Know Someone Who's Gay." You know what, the kids are right. They should have that book on the shelf next to "Athletic Shorts."

I found this real live cricket taking refuge in my apartment building, near the elevator which actually works now, although it always stops on the first floor (which has no exits to the street). In other news from SoFi*, our building managers have turned off the AC for the season. Can they do that?

*A certain City Paper staffer came up with the name SoFi for my neighborhood, which is in between Rosslyn and Courthouse in Arlington, just south of 50. It's a strange little pocket of immigrants, military types and rich condo dwellers, anchored by a crab shack/dive bar called the Quarterdeck.

Last week, I wrote about the extra steps taken by Judge Erik P. Christian to keep his private life private. He had his own domestic relations case sealed. Christian isn't the most popular judge on the D.C. Superior Court, and he has a reputation among many of the attorneys I spoke with for making unreasonable demands. Here's the PDF of his explanation for demanding a doctor's note from a witness who wanted to tape her testimony before a trial began, since she was dying of cancer. The woman's brother said the experience made the last days of her life "miserable."

Here's what he said when he first asked for the note:

"When you say any day, any day for colon cancer, certain cancers, can be tomorrow or next year."

The prosecutor explained that doctors believe the witness would not survive another month. Christian replied:

"Well are you just saying she won't make it another year, another month? When will she die?"

The witness died before the trial began, without taping her deposition. The defense agreed to allow the use of her grand jury testimony.

Side note: There's an interesting comment on my first post quoting from an appellate judge who took the time to lay into Christian for handing down a 12-year sentence for a drug possession charge. The sentence was well in excess of the guidelines for violent crimes and armed drug dealing.

So I guess I could have just gone to the big man himself. Earlier today I posted about the confusing, and concerning, documents filed by Creative Loafing, our parent company, in their application for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection. Well, blogger Rob Capriccioso, aka Big Head Rob, took it upon himself to forward my post to the Loaf's main man, Ben Eason, who CC'ed me on the reply. Thanks, Ben. But I still don't quite get it.

I'd joked that I didn't understand the lingo in the filings. I never took Latin, for one. Turns out Ben doesn't get it either:

I think we’re all getting used to this Chapter 11 lingo. Not sure I know what nunc pro tunc is either. The filings are a little confusing due to the fact that we’re current with all our bills, taxes and payroll but when this weeks bills come in the mail, we’ll update the filing. Additionally, the law requires you to list all the taxing authorities and all the sister companies so this quickly becomes confusing to those who aren’t used to these proceedings.

I'd also expressed some concerns about Eason getting dinged by the court for failing to include a complete list of his creditors and debts. He doesn't explain to the blogger. The way he tells it, we've just run into a bit of a rough patch.

All our pubs are profitable and we’re growing nicely online – we just ran head first into a brutal economy that isn’t showing any signs of getting better anytime soon. The City Paper and CL are doing fine – this just gives us the time we need to keep building out our digital strategies.

In general, the future looks bright. (This is from an earlier email to Rob.)

The trust and presence that City Paper has in the DC market is phenomenal and we think that the combination of DC and Chicago with the CL company give us the national reach to play a significant role in emerging media across the country. We're now able to really get deep into 3 of the top 10 markets in the country and with our brethren in the alternative industry, we're able to compete against the Silicon Valley funded dot coms that are challenging traditional media companies.

Here we come Google, watch out.

Perusing the scanned documents from our parent company's Chapter 11 case, I'm finding a lot of lingo I don't totally understand (PDFs: Emergency Motion to Use Cash Collateral, Emergency Motion for Nunc Pro Tunc Authorization). But hey, here's one I think I get: Notice of Deficient Filing. It appears that Ben Eason's bankruptcy papers were missing a few crucial details, like a statement of financial affairs and a list of creditors with a schedule of liabilities. Eason's initial filing included a list of just the top 20 creditors (PDF: List of Creditors), and only one noted the amount owed: about $83,000 to the Fayetteville Publishing Co. Also missing, how much Eason's attorney will get paid and a case management summary. If Eason doesn't turn in the missing paperwork, the case could be dropped. I have a feeling that would be bad news for us all.

Actually, it looks like they did file a document showing how much the attorneys have already collected: a retainer of $185,000, a bit more than they told us we'd have to cut from the City Paper budget a while back.

What has the world come to? Apparently, amid our hand-wringing over bank failures and congressional flailing, the good citizens of Washington are getting stingy with their Franklins. At least one charity is offering a discount to ease the pain of $150+ dinner tickets. The CARMA Foundation, which raises funds for Haitian women and children in need, is offering 50 percent off tickets to the Fete de Kanaval et Mascarade on Oct. 24 at the Carnegie Library. VIP tickets, once $300, are now just $150, and regular admission is a proletarian $75. At the event, you'll rub shoulders with Danny Glover, Marion Barry and 750 other distinguished guests including "government officials, foreign dignitaries, corporate executives, VIPs, music industry entertainers, sports figures and the media."

This item only made it into the Washington Times' briefs. The short story had these details: Colin Hatch, a 23-year-old Capitol Heights church deacon gets sentenced to 14 years in prison for sexually assaulting a DC prostitute at gunpoint.

Pretty bad. Here's what they left out: Hatch was two weeks from taking a new job as a Baltimore City Police Officer. And his method of assault was particularly horrific.

According to a sentencing memorandum released by the D.C. U.S. Attorney's Office, Hatch picked up his victim one night last November, near the intersection of 10th and K Streets NW. She got in his car, they agreed on a price ($100, for sex) and drove somewhere more private. The victim told police Hatch seemed like a nice guy at first. But when she climbed into the back seat, he turned mean. He pulled out a gun and demanded oral sex. From the memorandum:

"Once he became erect, the defendant forced [the victim] to engage in vaginal sex. During the course of the sexual assault, the defendant lost his erection and forced [the victim] to perform oral sex on him a second time so that he could regain his erection."

Amazingly, he allowed the young woman to escape once he had finished. She immediately called the cell phone of a police officer she knew, with no answer. She called another prostitute to put out a warning. Then a friend picked her up in his car and together they trailed Hatch, who continued to cruise the area for another 15 minutes at least. All the while, the victim was trying to reach police, who finally stopped Hatch an hour and a half after the assault. Asked if he had a gun, Hatch copped to a .45 caliber semi-automatic handgun in his glove box. He didn't have a permit to transport the gun. He said he'd meant to go to the firing range, but went to two malls, Applebee's and a friends house to play video games instead. He said the gun had slipped his mind.

At 2 a.m. he decided to go clubbing with friends in DC. Problem was, all the clubs were closing. Then, Hatch told police, the victim flagged him down as he drove by. He didn't realize she was a prostitute. He didn't deny they had sex, or that a payment was eventually discussed. That might have been hard given the presence of DNA evidence.

Hatch wans"t worried about how his arrest might impact his life, at least not his role as a deacon at church. In a telephone conversation recorded from his jail cell, he told a friend: "It wasn't like I was playing around in the church ... this is something that happened on my own personal time that I just got in trouble for."

Hatch hadn't yet completed the background examination for his job offer from the Baltimore police. I wonder how they test for selective morality.

There are certain privileges that come with being a judge on the D.C. Superior Court. You get a parking space, a courtroom, a law clerk and a secretary, upwards of $150,000 a year, and the job security of a 15-year presidential appointment. But it's still a job for mortals. Judges have to pay for their own robes, and, unlike diplomats and juveniles, public records documenting their legal entanglements are well, still public. Except in the case of Judge Erik P. Christian.

Christian seems to think his personal business is none of your business, and he's convinced another judge to keep it that way. In July, Judge Jerry Byrd approved a motion to seal the records in a domestic relations case filed by Christian's ex-wife, Assistant U.S. Attorney Julieanne Himelstein.

According to Leah Gurowitz, a spokesperson for the Superior Court, domestic relations cases are rarely sealed. Gurowitz said reasons had to be given for sealing such records, but once the envelope is sealed, those reasons aren't public either.

Read More "Judge Gets Records Sealed on His Own Case" »

WaMu fails. JP Morgan picks up the scraps ("43,000 employees, more than 2,200 branch offices in 15 states and $188.3 billion in deposits"). It's the largest bank failure in the country's history, but still not the story of the day.

That would be, the flailing Republican plan to write a blank check to big business, thus derailing progress on a bailout plan.

And Sarah Palin's bizarre interview with Katie Couric. This is not the transcript.

And McCain's campaign "suspension" that wasn't.

Meanwhile, Europe is starting to feel the heat from our economic meltdown.

New Japanese subway platforms have suicide prevention barriers. Perhaps we should install these in trains near Wall Street.

Living in the snug enclave of the coastal media, it's easy to forget that in some not-so-distant realms, Americans still face a massive cultural stigma against coming out as gay. A reminder of this reality comes from Crisis, a new book published by Mitchell Gold, one half of the high-end furniture retailer Mitchell Gold + Bob Williams. The book collects stories about growing up gay written by a few dozen ordinary and prominent Americans. Gold managed to gather an impressive group of contributors, including James McGreevey, Martina Navratilova and Gene Robinson (the first openly gay Episcopal bishop). The stories aren't great examples of memoir--they're simple essays with very personal messages. Candace Gingrich (Newt's sister)  writes about the moment when a reporter's discovery of her sexuality thrust her into her own political career. She nudged her brother behind the scenes, while her mother urged her not to drag his name "through the mud." An EMS tech from South Carolina writes about coming out to his family after his step brother was murdered in  their hometown because he had been openly gay.

Gold had a party for the book at his 14th Street store last week, and brought out several of the contributors, and a few other notables, like Tipper Gore (beautiful in a blue and green peacock dress). He said he wanted Crisis to change minds, and that the minds in need of changing belonged to good people. "My factory [in North Carolina] is surrounded by those good people," he said. "I don't want anyone to hate them." He told the audience to send the book to Wasilla.

Salon reports on how Sarah Palin's development initiatives in Wasilla fouled her own nest. And on Obama's need for Hispanic voters.

An autopsy confirms that the prisoner found dead in a PG county jail--after allegedly killing a cop--was the victim of homicide. Strangulation, to be exact, "possibly with a sheet, a towel or the "crux of the elbow."" Still no word into the investigation.

From Politico: Palin gets dissed by anit-Iran rally organizers.

From the list-serves: Local Guardian Angels want to force stores to stop selling the "get money hoody," a sweatshirt with a hood that zips all the way over the face. Good luck with that.

Wired tries to make sense of the new Microsoft ads. Conclusion: too much money for not enough pizzazz. And dump Jerry.

Ben Kingsley does Ian MacKaye. OMG.

Damien Ober made it onto the ballot. He's soliciting contributions on a spiffy new website.

The Nation’s Gun Show took place this past weekend in Chantilly, Va. I attended looking to meet a few members of armed America and, hopefully, D.C. residents shopping for revolvers—so far the only handguns they can buy.

First things first. After spending several hours trolling “one and a half miles of guns, knives and accessories,” I meet only two D.C. residents: two young men in khakis and oxford shirts who blanch as soon as I say I’m a reporter. When I ask if they’re shopping, one replies, “We’re being cynical, I guess.” Then they both scurry off, without buying the brand new Smith & Wesson commemorative Heller decision revolver. (If they had bought the gun, it wouldn’t have gone home with them. The seller would have to ship it to Charles W. Sykes Jr., the only federally-licensed dealer in D.C.)

More, plus photos after the jump.

Read More "One and a Half Miles of Guns, Knives and Accessories" »

The Smoking Gun has documentation on a baggy pants crackdown in Florida. Police reports detail the damning evidence: "black male" in "tan baggy shorts with blue and white boxer style undergarment below his waste." We continue on to hell in a hand basket with news that a priest in Illinois was dealing coke out of the rectory.

As if I'm not in hate enough with my stupid iPhone, it's spying on me, so says a hacker.

It's Mushroom Month!

Oh, phew! Juicy Campus is publishing a Georgetown version after all. But perhaps Georgetown isnt' juicy enough to produce content. C'mon guys, get with it!

The Post explores Cindy McCain's Tangled Story of Addiction, which began after her husband's stressful entanglement with the Charles Keating scandal. She used her own charity to get prescriptions, cost one doctor his license, and only attracted her husband's attention when she attracted the attention of investigators at the DEA.

"Cool mom" who let kids ride in the trunk of her Volvo three years ago headed back to court for buying booze for teens. She served the kids, whom she didn't know, screwdrivers with cheap vodka in the woods behind a school.

And when the drummer drums with a garbage can on his head, in the middle of the audience.

And when the singer sings with a girl in jeans in his arms.

Crazy-haired Israelis who call themselves Monotonix, last night at the Cat.