There has already been quite a lot of ink spilt on the Internet regarding the recent sad loss of Aaron Swartz. (And, yes, Bunny Chafowitz, I put “spilt” in there just for you, since I know you think that verbs should not end with “t.”)
Unsurprisingly, that ink spreads all over the place, forming inane commentary, as well as some more thought-provoking. (Equally unsurprisingly, two of the best articles — this one and this one — come from New York criminal defense attorney Scott Greenfield. I don’t know why I even bother to blog, with him still casting his long shadow over the blawgosphere. (For the record, I knew he wouldn’t quit: real writers can’t quit. At most, we slow down while tending to other life issues.))
As Scott points out, Aaron Swartz’s case is not unique in the criminal “justice” system; he’s just getting more attention because of who he was, and, more importantly, who his many admirers are.
Call Somebody Who Cares
When I was in high school, a common taunt when anyone complained about something was, “Here’s a dime: call somebody who cares.”
Thing is, in the 1970s, if you wanted to actually follow that advice, it wasn’t much of a problem. You simply offered to accept the dime — later a quarter — found a phone booth, and dialed the number you’d memorized for those who might actually care.
As Stephen Petrick recently learned, it doesn’t quite work that way anymore.
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