Ah, technology. It connects us, entertains us, and occasionally, it sends us to jail. Just ask Corey Harris, who became an overnight internet sensation—and not in a good way—after attending a virtual Zoom court hearing while driving. Let's break down how a series of bureaucratic blunders and some questionable judgment made Corey a meme, and unfortunately, a jailbird.

Corey Harris's story might have made for another amusing internet meme had it not ended with him spending two nights in the Washtenaw County Jail. His crime? Participating in a Zoom court hearing while driving, about a suspended driver’s license case, no less. Yes, that's right. Zooming while driving for a suspended license. You can't make this stuff up.

Back in 2010, Harris's driver's license was suspended for unpaid child support. Fast forward to January 2022, when a judge rescinded the suspension. Problem solved, right? Nope. The Michigan Secretary of State's office somehow never received the clearance notice for Harris's license reinstatement. It’s as if the universe conspired to keep his license in limbo.

This procedural gaffe escalated on May 15, 2022, when Harris attended a virtual court hearing while, you guessed it, driving. The hearing pertained to an October traffic stop in Pittsfield Township, Michigan, and the judge wasn't thrilled. Judge Cedric Simpson, in disbelief, ordered Harris's bond revoked and commanded him to surrender to the Washtenaw County Jail. Harris spent a total of two days in custody. All of this might still sound absurd, until you remember that all Harris was trying to do at the time was get medical help for his wife. A simple, albeit desperate, act that spiraled out of control.

Harris's situation is a splendid example of when keeping it real goes wrong. Despite the judge's order in January 2022 to bring Harris back on the right side of the law, a misunderstanding related to the paperwork from the Saginaw County Friend of the Court meant the Secretary of State's office never got the memo. As explained by the Secretary of State's office, Harris needed to provide a form within 10 days to prove his reinstatement. They must have filed it under “Alternatively Important Documents We Ignore.”

As if the ordeal wasn’t enough, the whole incident garnered him massive unwanted attention online. Who needs fame? Harris faced online ridicule and disrespect, adding social media infamy to his legal woes, and subsequently, he deleted his social media accounts to escape the virtual mob. His newfound viral fame turned into a nightmare, making his case a modern-day Shakespearean tragedy—but with Zoom and fewer soliloquies.

Attempting to control the damage, Harris, supported by his new attorney Dionne Webster-Cox, held a news conference. They argued he had done nothing wrong, blaming the systemic delays that led to the clerical error. Harris claims to have only recently received the necessary paperwork to clear his driving record, though it was probably buried under a pile of other bureaucratic snail mail.

Naturally, the irony couldn't be more bittersweet: A man whose primary concern was his family's health ends up an internet laughingstock because of a procedural hiccup. And what’s the moral of this story? Sometimes, the law works in mysterious ways—ways that make it onto the evening news and your favorite social media platforms.

Ultimately, Corey's story serves as a cautionary tale for digital-age heroes: If you’re going to Zoom and drive to a court hearing about driving illegally, make sure your paperwork is as sorted out as your Wi-Fi connection.