Kwame Kilpatrick is a relic of a bygone, more innocent era, when it was fun to mock people for sending misspelled text messages to their mistresses.
But in our new sober times, with a prolonged global depression knocking at our door and an assortment of developing nations beset by assassinations and curious car accidents and civil war, it just seems petty to even care about buffoons like the former mayor of Detroit.
What were his crimes, after all? He got a couple of police officers fired for trying to do their jobs. He sent thousands of sexy text messages to his chief of staff while they were both supposed to be working. He failed to do much of anything for a city that sits at the very center of the prolonged and humiliating collapse of America's once-noble auto industry.
But goodness gracious, he did not bilk investors out of $50 billion in an elaborate Ponzi scheme; he did not crash every financial institution in America through the reckless and fanciful repackaging of imaginary derivatives; he did not start any wars or get anybody killed. All he did was misspell "Ben's Chili Bowl."
A Wayne County judge just released 6000 of the more than 65,000 text messages collected by prosecutor Kym Worthy during the long legal process that ended with the Kilpatrick and his former paramour, Christine Beatty, in jail for perjury.
Is this kind of humiliation really necessary?
It is impossible to deny that Kwame Kilpatrick was an incompetent clown, a terrible mayor, an embarrassment to his city. But reading through more of his childish, pathetic text messages just seems ghoulish now -- not to mention pointless.
Sara K. Smith writes for NBC and Wonkette. She does not know how to send a text message and has no desire to learn.