My Space Goes All Dateline NBC On Their Ass

In a republic such as this, it is often difficult to decide which group of miscreants one will side with when the gauntlets get thrown. Usually, your choices are between the cock fighters and the woman who keeps her children locked in the chicken coops during matches. Sometimes, it's even stickier.

We learn today that Texas (that bastion of fair play and good governance - the late Ann Richards notwithstanding) put a number of registered sex offenders in the pokey for having My Space profiles when the terms of their release forbade internet activity. We certainly understand the urge. The policy among After Therapy executives is "No One Under 35 - Preferably Over 40". We have no compassion, sympathy or arguments available to those who do harm to children.

We think NAMBLA is an unnecessary evil, those who pimp their kids for a meal are the lowest of the low, and if you touch a child inappropriately before their 21st birthday, you should get whatever the cosmos - let alone the justice system - has coming for you. We are unequivocal about our distaste for child molesters, pornographers and those who enable the same through their action or ignorance.

However.... And in a constitutionally-established Republic, there is allllways a "however"....

Absent more details, which ought to be forthcoming if Paris stays put, Lindsay stays dry and Britney pulls her dress down, we are hard-pressed to figure out under what theory of law these mishaps of humanity are being detained. One of the group was singled out for failing to register as a sex offender. Fair enough. Lock him up. Hide the key. But today's reports indicate that merely being wired is sufficient to re-incarcerate these heinous creatures. We argue, unpopularly no doubt, that it isn't. It's identical to saying, "Thou shalt not go to Texas. We will now remove your legs to minimize your mobility." It's banning a person from a bar for over-indulging, then arresting them months later for being able to swallow liquids. Sometimes, in the name of common sense, we get frighteningly close to nonsense.

And that's not just our liberal law degree talkin'.

We have a system in this part of the world that says, in essence, we reserve the right to restrict what you do as a result of what you've done. We accept that as part of the social contract. No guns for felons. No voting for cons. No food stamps if you've misused the system. What we don't have is a Pariah Provision in our constitution that makes it illegal for a person to exist in the same space (virtual or otherwise) where they have previously abused the privilege. Granted, we reserve the right, under the law, to tell predators not to live within a prescribed perimeter of a school. We don't tell them they can never go to the grocery store on the off-chance they will run into a kid.

My Space certainly got its corporate legs running with the younger set. Kids dominate the scene - but aren't the only legitimate users of the service. We recently tracked down a music artist from our youth via his My Space page. The man is in his 60's and still recording gospel music. On his friends page were photos and links to the pages of many of today's better-known musicians. We attempted to shoot him an email through the site and got the message, "You Can't Do That" because we haven't created a My Space page of our own. Nice touch. The point is, this is not a sandbox filled with free candy where one expects to be able to walk away with the blonde 6 year-old of his choice. It's a public forum where people of all sorts now gather to exhibit themselves.

God knows we aren't against that.

My Space is simply a designated attraction spot on what we once called the Information Superhighway. All of us here gathered know that you can be everywhere and nowhere simultaneously in cyberspace. It is the realization of everything Star Trek promised us with its particle-beaming from one reality to another. If the computer is on, the Wi-Fi isn't glitching, and we have one eye on the screen, the entire world can welcome itself into the living room and insinuate itself in the 6th inning of a tight ballgame. If My Space is forbidden territory for those who have done others harm, how is the Internet itself any less verboten by virtue of its vast possibilities for impromptu visitation and mere chance meetings?

What is the rule Texas is seeking to articulate? No My Space for convicted sex predators because kids go there? What about just logging on to Google the ethmoid bone? Would receiving a blanket spam email from some enterprising 10 year old in Vegas put you on the hook for another 10-20 of Non-Paris Time? We know that My Space is an attractive nuisance, if you will, where young people are likely to gather. So is the mall. To my knowledge, we don't have any rules of incarceration as it pertains to patronizing Crabtree and Evelyn, though. This pendulum is swinging a bit too far into the civil liberties arena and it's going to take someone unassailable in character - or so vile they fail to register as human - to stop it.

Lock up these bastards and throw away the key - permanently - if our public policy is going to be that they are incapable of rehabilitation and proper societal functioning. If, however, we pursue a policy that allows for and encourages the restoration of these - and others - to their place in society (restricted though it may be), then the My Space Case must be settled once and for all. It is no crime to be in the same universe as those whom once you harmed.

It is a great crime to sit back and watch the majority go mad with malice and unhinge us from our constitutional moorings in the process.

(Staff note: We would like to congratulate our Editor-in-Chief for not overriding our veto when he suggested that parents "Watch those fucking troglodyte kids you're always blathering about everybody else protecting." His trust in our judgement is why we love him.)