But that’s impossible, isn’t it?
Like the restless Jewish prophets before you, you are an outcast in your own land. And like the prophets before you, you are trouble, Aaron, a lot of trouble.
Thank you for troubling us, Aaron. You are trouble, but very good trouble.
Socrates’ suicide, like yours, was a state-sponsored execution. And like Socrates in death, you’ve conferred an immortal obligation on the living to resist the temptation to let the rulers attach their strings, the strings that turn us from people with hearts into puppets with property.
Rest in peace, Aaron Swartz. And I promise you, I won’t.