FREE THE WOLFEBORO ONE

Am I all alone out here, or is New Hampshire's attorney general being just
a little bit silly in his persecution of Coolio, the teen-age mutant ninja
computer hacker?

Let me explain my perspective. I've just spent a year living in the
Dominican Republic, where live-and-let-live is a way of life. I'm back for
a couple months on a short-term assignment here at Foster's Sunday Citizen.

Leslie Miller, whose hard-edged observations used to fill this space, has
left us (and the Associated Press) for a new job with Bloomberg, the
business information company. Miller took no prisoners, and never said
good-bye.

Call it Kismet, then. We've got a hole to fill in the newspaper at the same
time that I actually have something to say.

No sooner had I returned from the land of sun and relaxation than the
Coolio affair burst upon the world like a Hollywood comedy. Coolio, an
affable 17-year-old from Wolfeboro with impressive computer skills, was
named a suspect in the disruption of Yahoo and other Web sites.

Coolio, whose real name is Dennis Moran, admits hacking three Web sites,
but apparently had nothing to do with the "denial of service" attacks on
Yahoo.com, eBay.com and Buy.com. These were considered the more serious
attacks because of these company's high revenue losses as a result of the
disruption.

Nevertheless, New Hampshire authorities have pressed felony charges against
Coolio for one of the three "attacks" to which he freely admitted. The
victim was DARE, a program which brings police into classrooms to warn kids
about the dangers of drug abuse.

What did Coolio actually do to the DARE site? Normally, when you bring this
DARE site up on your computer screen, you see some cute cartoon characters
and links to various anti-drug and fund-raising messages.

Onto this happy tableau, Coolio managed to superimpose a crazed looking
Donald Duck injecting drugs into his veins. He also posted therein some
messages favoring the legalization of drugs.

For this "crime," Coolio was charged with unauthorized access to a computer
system. And can you believe it, this "crime" carries a penalty of up to 15
years in prison? For a prank.

Does anybody else see the absurdity of this?

Listen to the impressive list of agencies which cooperated in the dragnet:
the Los Angeles Police computer crimes section, The U.S. attorney's offices
in New Hampshire and California, the High Technology and Litigation Team of
the L.A. District Attorney's Office, the Los Angeles-Orange County High
Technology Crimes Task Force, the U.S. Department of Justice Computer
Crimes and Intellectual Property Section, 12 lords a'leaping and a
partridge in a pear tree.

Even Janet Reno, whose Waco, Texas, performance deserves the Oscar for
police overreaction, got into the act. "By working together, we can ensure
that the Internet is a safe place for all of us to work, to play, to shop
and to learn," Reno said about the case. Blah, blah, blah.

Here's what I think.

1. The DARE program is a cop thing, operated by the Los Angeles Police
Department. Any crime against police is treated more seriously than
offenses against ordinary folks, so the LAPD prevailed on New Hampshire's
authorities to overcharge Coolio.

2. New Hampshire Attorney General Philip McLaughlin believes that he's on
the cutting-edge of a law enforcement trend, something sexier than his
office's normal grist of low-rent homicides.

Coolio, to his credit, does not regret his attack on DARE. He said the DARE
site is filled with "misleading propaganda."

There is ample evidence supporting this opinion.

Years of studies have shown that the DARE program does not actually prevent
kids from taking up drugs, though it sucks up a goodly sum from the public
through trying.

It survives because it creates jobs for criminal justice graduates, gives
teachers time off from teaching and makes parents feel good.

In the big picture, the entire "war on drugs," of which DARE is a part, has
proved to be one of the greatest policy failures in American history, at a
cost of billions and billions of dollars. In opposing it, Coolio has joined
the ranks of economist Milton Friedman and conservative author William F.
Buckley, who advocate legalization.

Coolio's "crime" of interrupting fund-raising for DARE might also be
considered a consumer service if it prevents just one person from throwing
good money after bad. One of his other admitted attacks -- on RSA.com, an
Internet security company -- surely was a consumer service. Notice that
unlike the LAPD, RSA isn't making a big fuss, obviously not wanting to draw
any more attention to their sorry performance.

These RSA people couldn't even keep a bored 17-year-old Wolfeboro kid from
penetrating their security, let alone protect clients from professional
thieves and industrial spies.

McLaughlin was at his most annoying when he made public statements
denigrating Coolio's intelligence.

If Dennis Moran can outgrow Coolio's penchant for (unsanctioned) mischief
and demonstrates some self-discipline, it won't be long before he's earning
six figures thanks to his computer skills. His internet pranks will be
forgotten as fast anyone else's youthful escapades.

By then, McLaughlin will be just one more former attorney general hustling
for civil suits or real estate work.

What's more, if Coolio spends one day behind bars, he should be considered
a political prisoner. His "crime" against DARE was akin to political
vandalism. And even crazy King George of England didn't threaten the
perpetrators of the Boston Tea Party with 15 years in the slammer.