Hey hey, another Thursday, another print edition of the City Paper. We’ve got all the goodies you know and love, an excellent cover, and some dope columns:

Development guru Lydia DePillis has the cover story on architect Eric Colbert. Never heard of him? READ ON.

Colbert’s success is in part a story about Washington’s politics and regulations. This is a city, after all, where hyper-empowered neighborhood associations and appointed boards feel entitled to a say over the size and look of new developments. (Since the historic fabric of the city is so strong already, deviations from that standard are seen as insults.) Colbert, whose 50-odd projects include a few excellent buildings and far more that are just good enough, is the architect we deserve.

 

Plus, Lydia finds out what it means to occupy D.C.:

The Occupy movement is all over the United States by now. In Washington, though, it carries a special significance. Controlled by the National Park Service, the District’s downtown parks have always functioned either as manicured show spaces or staging grounds for transitory protests. But they never felt lived in—think of Franklin Square, which is still like a black hole in the middle of the central business district—until the occupiers broke the rules. And that’s a revolution D.C. residents should get behind.

And Chris Shott explores the latest microtrend at restaurants. Today’s deviled eggs aren’t the ones your auntie makes at the family picnic.

Deviled eggs, like the common hot dog and macaroni and cheese, are one of those classic comfort foods that have lately taken on a sort of contemporary chic—and, in some cases, sheen.

To wit: One recent evening at Boundary Stone in Bloomingdale, a plate of the $3 hors d’oeuvres arrived in the standard fashion—hard-boiled, bisected, and served cold. Except for one glaring element: The yolks were frickin’ pink! What horrible deformity had befallen that poor chicken embryo?

Meanwhile, at Arts Desk, John Anderson explores the death of darkrooms in the Library of Congress. A sad tale indeed:

Next to the digital print is a darkroom reproduction of the same picture, made using the black and white silver gelatin process. The degree of visible contrast is astounding. The blacks are much richer and darker, while the light grays mute the detail of the fabric—the effect is heavy, but that was the printing style of the 1930s. “A silver gelatin print has a fundamentally different look from any other kind of print,” he says.

From the end of the Great Depression until this year, anyone could order a silver gelatin reproduction, printed from negatives, of any image in the Library of Congress’ collection, most recently for about $100 a print. Not any more: After learning in August that his services would no longer be needed, Jantzen, one of the library’s last freelance darkroom printers, finished his final batch of photographs from the collection this month.

And last, but most certainly not least, Dave McKenna tries to find out what you do with an old-school basketballer when he stops being a basketballer (and starts being a criminal).

Speaking by phone from Cumberland Federal Prison, a medium-security institution in Western Maryland where he’s known as Inmate #09817-007, [Anthony “Jo Jo”] Hunter politely declined to discuss the crimes. “I’ve done my time, as good as I could,” he said. “I made mistakes and bad choices, but I’ve been able to help mold some guys in here. I think I deserve a second chance.”

Hunter has a parole hearing scheduled for December. It’ll be his first such chance to get a second chance. And there’s an earnest effort led by a group of family members, friends, and hoop rivals who got schooled by Hunter back when he was The Man, to bring him home.

As always, you can read online, or pick up the print edition at a box near you.

Images of Occupy D.C. and deviled eggs by Darrow Montgomery