Here, in its apparent entirety, is a lawsuit filed by Derian Douglas Hickman against the Freedom Liberty Independence Party, the Federal Communications Commission, and the Department of Education:

"Requesting information and civil court transcripts filings, for use in jury trial. Compensation for discrimination and lost business revenue. Also State Department trial transcripts. Compensation for property lost while awaiting court dates. Asking for trial by jury. 1 million dollars and documents."

Mr. Hickman's unique legal stylings are getting to be familiar around U.S. District Court in Washington, D.C, where judges have taken note of at least nine other lawsuits. On Wednesday, in a two-page decision, this latest lawsuit was rejected out of hand.

As was another lawsuit filed by Mr. Hickman, this one against NASA. U.S. District Judge Emmet Sullivan, just before dismissing the NASA suit, quoted it in its entirety; to wit:

"Requesting pilot license and aircraft information, private airport, ship dock license or registrations. Also Discovery Shuttle information and United States patent filings and copyrights on the name Discovery Shuttle and Discovery Channel, also Discover Card. Trademarks. Compensation for discrimination and lost business revenue. Compensation for property lost while awaiting court dates. Asking for
jury trial. 100 million dollars and property return."

Korean War veteran Frank Enten likes to sell buttons. Lots and lots of buttons, loaded with all kinds of political messages. The District of Columbia says he needs a license. He says that infringes on his rights.

(Story framing observation: Note how the use of the 'Korean War veteran' descriptor serves to make Mr. Enten a sympathetic character; its use identifies him as a gentleman of a certain age who fought for his country.)

On Tuesday, Enten and his pro bono attorney lost their bid for a preliminary injunction that would have blocked Washington, D.C. police from arresting him. In a 20-page opinion, U.S. District Judge Paul L. Friedman essentially upheld the application of the Vending Regulation Act of 2009, which holds that:

"With certain limited exceptions, 'a person shall not vend from a sidewalk, roadway, or other public space' unless the person holds both a vending license and a specific site permit."

Enten called this a prior restraint on his free-speech rights. The judge agreed that Enten was engaged in constitutionally protected activities, but concluded as well that the city's vending regulations were narrowly tailored enough to survive. Reasoned the judge:

"If Mr. Enten follows the District’s regulatory requirements, he and others should be able to
receive vending permits and site licenses. While the application process and participation in the
site lottery may not be immediate, that fact does not implicate First Amendment concerns."

Connie Marshall, of Pensacola, Fla., has a serious problem with the federal government. As the U.S. Court of Federal Claims characterized it:

"Ms. Marshall...contends she has been tortured by electromagnetic frequencies including “'satellites, infrasound, and microwaving' for the past three to four years and that low-flying helicopters and other aircraft have passed over her home."

Which is totally not cool.

So Ms. Marshall sued, demanding $50 million for, as she described it, the violations of her "Civil Rights, Civil Liberties, Human Rights, the United States Constitution and the Fourth Amendment Bill of Rights.”

Unswayed, the claims court rejected the lawsuit, and that's not all. In an unpublished Dec. 11 ruling, Claims Court Judge Thomas C. Wheeler further recounted at least six other lawsuits filed by Ms. Marshall, in which she had claimed, inter alia, that officials had eavesdropped on her, intended to kill her, made false claims about her, destroyed her property etc.

So now, in light of this record, Ms. Marshall will need the prior permission of the court before she is allowed to file another claims court action.

The always-useful Death Penalty Information Center shows it's possible to both advocate and inform. The group has its point of view -- opposition to the death penalty -- but its reports always contain information that advances the debate.

So now comes the 2009 year-end report, recounting how the death penalty was managed over the year. A couple of trends are moving in opposite directions: the number of executions in 2009 was 52, up from the 37 last year and the 98 in 1999. On the other hand: the number of new death sentences fell to 106, down from 111 last year and 284 a decade ago.

Those softies in Texas, for instance, only imposed the death penalty on nine felons this year. Back in the 1990s, when men were men and George W. Bush was governor, Texas averaged 34 death sentences per year.

Tellingly, the number of death-row exonerations rose to 9 this year, up from 4 last year. Suits & Sentences says 'tellingly,' because exonerations are the kind of thing that would presumably tend to escalate legislative skepticism about the death penalty in general. Eleven states considered legislative proposals to end the death penalty in 2009, more than in previous years.

The late author Dominick Dunne dishes the dirt in his final book, "Too Much Money." This story discusses how Dunne used a thin veil of fiction to describe the handling of a lawsuit brought against him by former congressman Gary Condit, called "Kyle Cramden" in the novel.

Suits & Sentences, while not recommending this book, will take further notice of Dunne's treatment of the legal profession. He calls his real-life libel attorney Paul LiCalsi "Peter Lombardo" in the book, and describes him as a "tough one." He needs to be. Condit's real-life attorney L. Lin Wood is called, tee hee, "Win Burch," and he is described as the kind of fierce advocate who can bring people to tears during depositions.

Dunne's character, "Gus Bailey," discusses how he's afraid of being interrogated during his deposition by "Win Burch." In real life, Dunne was originally represented by First Amendment attorney Laura Handman, before replacing her with LiCalsi.

Handman is called "Flora Dickens" in the book; she is described as being "the best in this field" and is said to be with the firm "Erskine, Sondheim & Hollerith." The book characterizes the Handman stand-in as very well-schooled, but not a good fit with the Dunne character, partly because she is not based in New York. In real life, Handman spends time in Washington, D.C. and is with the firm Davis Wright Tremain.

A television matroness and High Society denizen named "Christine Saunders," who is described as "the first lady of television" and who Suits & Sentences guesses is modeled on Barbara Walters, advises "Gus Bailey" to switch attorneys.

In an intriguing aside, "Gus Bailey" is assured by the editor of "Park Avenue" magazine, a stand-in for Vanity Fair, that all legal fees would be covered with an author's bonus once the case ended. Of course, "Gus Bailey" adds, this promise was never put down in writing.

The book is filled with nasty little asides that verge on the self-loathing. In the book, "Gus Bailey" appears on an "underwatted radio show" hosted by "Patience Longstreet." The audience for the show, Dunne writes "was minimal." In real life, Dunne got into trouble with Condit for what he said on Laura Ingraham's intelligent but, err, underappreciated radio show.

Dunne admires toughness, though. The book describes an attorney working with the LiCalsi character as "Miranda Slater," who is said to be "the smartest and toughest of the young lawyers in the firm." Suits & Sentences believes this to be Rachel G. Balaban, a Cornell and NYU Law School grad who worked the case with LiCalsi.

There are some clear breaks from the facts, as well. LiCalsi noted, for instance, that in real life Dunne "very valiantly sat for days of tough depositions" conducted by Wood. In the book -- wishful thinking, perhaps? -- the case is resolved before "Gus Bailey" is deposed.

With a name like "Judicial Hellholes," there's no doubting where this latest report from the American Tort Reform Association is coming from. And just in case that's too subtle, the authors embellish the text with a cover showing a judge ruling from a fiery pit.

In the words of the tort reform association: "Judicial Hellholes are places where judges systematically apply laws and court procedures in an inequitable manner, generally against defendants in civil lawsuits."

Coming next: Judicial ****heads," "Judicial Mother*******" and "******* Judicial ****faces":

So this report has a point of view, which may not be for everyone. Still, the 64-page review focusing in particular on six jurisdictions -- from Cook County to West Viriginia -- has some interesting data to accompany the parade of horribles.

The report starts off with cases of the can-you-believe-this variety: a Cook County lawsuit that a dolphin splashed water on spectators, a New Jersey lawsuit that restaurants fraudulently fail to notify customers about sodium content, the proliferation of slip-and-fall lawsuits in Florida.

Oh, those wacky trial lawyers!

But to its credit, the report digs deeper into each of these jurisdictions and provides some meaty, albeit slanted, material. It has effective explanations, for instance, about the doctrines and rulings that have made particular jurisdictions attractive to plaintiff's attorneys. So it's worth a look, and not just by those looking to buttress positions they already hold.

Anthony Martin wanted to serve his country in time of war.

So the man born as Lee Mark McKnight went back to the FBI, the agency that used to handle him as an informant, and asked to be put to work in the weeks after the Sept. 11, 2001 terrorist attack. It was an intriguing move, for a man who had previously been in and out of the federal witness security program.

As McKnight/Martin put it in a lawsuit filed last January: After having left the witness security program in 1992, he contacted the FBI after 9/11 and was assigned the code name "PABST." Assigned to work under the control of a Las Vegas-based special agent, Herb Lasko, McKnight/Martin says he worked as a cab driver, so he could "keep tabs on drivers of certain religious and/or ethnic origin who might be a danger to America."

Then: a rookie Las Vegas cop discovered McKnight's/Martin's real identity when running a background check. It could have been disastrous for the man who had informed against real bad guys. He sued the Marshals Service and others, claiming they had exposed him to danger by failing to protect his real identity.

Long story short: on Friday, U.S. District Judge Emmet Sullivan dismissed the case; in part, because administrative remedies had not been exhausted.