L/G: "Your Honor, our client is still in jail, with possibly months before a new trial..."
Parks: "Then she shoulda thought of that. Also, this is mostly about me being pissed off at Anonymous."
He compares it mob rule, which I think is a bit much, although with the doxxing that's pretty much crossing the line, but I couldn't tell you how much is correct ire and how much is just his feelings getting hurt because he was -- you can't fault him on this -- he honestly was trying his best to conduct this trial the best way he could. Holding to the old laws that are still -- basically but not entirely -- relevant, while also closing the loops as fast as the future can open them up.
Which I suppose is another huge part of being a judge, once you're at the top of the mountain: Being able to see in both directions. Reaching out toward the future while still holding on to the parts of the past that are worth it. Hoping you can tell the difference; hoping you can take yourself enough out of the equation that it's your best self that comes in to work every day.
But occasionally those loops don't shut in time. Or the ego of the judge, or the terror of the court, or the tenor of history passing under our feet, conspires to make a new hack. A coincidental conspiracy to punish, say, a girl for telling the truth. The judge, she has his sympathies of course: But the beast will always protect itself. She is in jail as a symbol of what contempt looks like, even when it's done in the name of hacking a hack. And for some of that's not good enough.
Which is why Kalinda gets ahold of Todd Bratcher's original confession -- tossed out on a technicality; he was a "hair" shy of being able to confess without his parents present -- and, for a moment, she's Anonymous too.
Of all the people you could expect to burn, to create-through-destruction, to calmly and rationally call bullshit on a beast that won't lie down and won't die, but can't turn fast enough to meet the future anyway. "Hell, maybe she was the one doing it all along," the show wants you to say: "But I'll never know."
Andrews: "Your Honor, you've already declared a mistrial..."
Will: "-- But you're still the judge of record until..."
Andrews: "You can't let an ...anarchistic gang control..."
Will: "-- Now you're just being bitchy. Letting her out does nothing to you, nor to your client. You're arguing for keeping a rape victim in prison for no reason other than professional pride, which makes you the exact same as Baylor guy. She's not theoretical, she's an 18-year-old girl who is in there because a bunch of rich old dudes don't like hearing the truth. Your Honor, it's wrong to keep her locked up just for speaking the truth. If you need more insight into her mindset, I can play this confession again..."