I actually had a run-in with Jack Thompson, back a few years ago.
One of my students wrote Jack a letter, explaining why he disagreed with the lawyer’s stance on banning certain games. It was a well-thought-out discourse, and was extremely polite. I didn’t even know the student had written this until he came to me to show me Jack’s reply. He was bothered by it, and didn’t understand it. See, Jack had responded by writing a mere two sentences, dismissing his reasoning by calling him a moronic slackwit. Yes, he resorted to the debate of the elementary schoolyard: ad hominem attacks.
I was bothered by this as well; my student was a very bright, nice young man who didn’t deserve to be treated this way, and I wrote Mr. Thompson myself, explaining this, again very politely. I mean, maybe he had just gone through a really bad personal tragedy or something, and just wasn’t himself when he wrote the first letter. I wanted to give him a chance to reflect on what a letter like that might mean to a nineteen year old who was trying to find his way in the world by discussing the issues relating to his chosen profession. I wanted to give him a chance to be a man, suck it up and apologize.
He emailed me back a nasty letter full of invective and spite. I was more than slightly non-plussed; it seemed that this man, this professional, a lawyer who was spear-heading an international campaign of some supposed importance, was more than a little screwy. I copied and sent the emails off to some media types, and the response was along the lines of “Yeah, we know about him, he’s a nutcase.”
I started to wonder, though; was he really a “moronic slackwit” himself, or was there something more to it? Was he actually crafty and full of low cunning, and acting like an online troll, fanning the flames with vitriolic stupidities, aware that the attention he received by doing so only served to make him a household name? I mean, for someone who wants to turn an issue into a livelihood, the most important thing is to get identified with the issue. Jack Thompson became, in my mind, like Candyman in the horror movie of the same name: say his name five times and you give him the power to come get you.
There is something to that idea, but the recent decision by the Supreme Court of Florida seems to give equal credence to the case against Jack’s sanity. R.I.P., Mr. Thompson; you were not a worthy foe to free speech and artistic expression, merely a parasitic annoyance.