To a certain extent, I'm afraid to write this. Though they've already seized my computer and copied my hard drive, I have no guarantee they won't do it again. For the past four years, they've been threatening me, making demands for trial, deposing my parents, sisters, friends, and myself twice – the first time for nine hours, the second for seven. I face up to $4.5m in fines and the last case like mine that went to trial had a jury verdict of$1.92m.

When I contemplate this, I have to remind myself what I'm being charged with. Investment fraud? Robbing a casino? A cyber-attack against the federal government? No. I shared music. And refused to cave.

No matter how many people I explain this to, the reaction is always the same: dumbfounded surprise and visceral indignance, both of which are a result of the amazing secrecy the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) has operated under. "How did they get you?" I'm asked. I explain that there are 40,000 people like me, being sued for the same thing, and we were picked from a pool of millions who shared music. And that's when a look appears on the face of whoever I'm talking to, the horrified "it could have been me!" look.

The reason this has remained so silent despite passionate opposition is that nearly all people settle. My story of becoming an exception started four years ago.

In 2005, my parents received a letter from Sony BMG, Warner, Atlantic Records, Arista Records, and UMG Records claiming "copyright infringement". They were given a number to call, which was their "settlement information line", a call centre staffed by operators who, we are emphatically told, are "not attorneys". The process of collecting money from these threats was so huge, they had set up a 1-800-DONT-SUE-ME-style call centre.

The operators did little more than ask how you would pay (they wanted $3,000, I believe) and repeated intimidating lawsuit statistics. I sent them a money order for $500, which they returned. I told them I couldn't pay any more. We discussed whether I might qualify for "financial hardship", and then I stopped hearing from them, which I didn't question. I graduated from college and began studying for my physics doctorate.

And then in August 2007, I came home from work to find a stack of papers, maybe 50 pages thick, sitting at the door to my apartment. That's when I found out what it was like to have possibly the most talented copyright lawyers in the business, bankrolled by multibillion-dollar corporations, throwing everything they had at someone who wanted to share Come As You Are with other Nirvana fans.

I had assumed that as an equal in a court of law in the United States, my story would be told and a just outcome would result. I discovered the sheer magnitude of obstacles in your way to get your say in court. And even if you get to trial, (which only one other person, Jammie Thomas Rasset, has done) you're still far from equal with the machine controlling 85% of commercial music in the US.

But to even start fighting assumes you (a) know what you're even being sued for and (b) have a concept of what grounds to fight it on. Most of the time you know nothing except for the huge stack of paper written in legalese that says you owe several thousand dollars and it will probably cost you more than that just to hire a lawyer. If you can find one.

I had frequent contact with one of their Colorado counsel. While she was impudent to the point of vicious ("Come on Joel, I think you did it"), I continued to use phrases like "I respect your position" and "we have a respectful difference of opinion". I have no record of this intimidation because the person in question made sure to keep contact restricted to phonecalls.

Every conversation consisted of her trying to get information out of me about my defense, telling me how much bigger the settlement would be if I didn't settle now. Shaken, I would call my mother, who was a state-paid lawyer in child custody cases, and ask her what to do. We blindly fired all kinds of motions at them. Eventually my mother became afraid to answer my calls, worried it would be about the case. For the court "settlement" I offered $5,250, which the RIAA declined, asking $10,500. I saw myself on a conveyor belt, being pulled inexorably toward the meshing of razor-sharp gears.

Then in summer 2008, I arrived home to find a letter addressed to me. The return address said "Harvard Law School". Curiously, I opened and read it. "My name is Charles Nesson, professor of Law at Harvard. I caught wind of your case," it said. "I can be of any assistance, don't hesitate to call." I called. Nesson picked up. I said, "Yes, you can be of assistance!" My mom drafted a letter to him, summarising where we were. The opening line read, "Dear Professor Godsend".

Since then I've learned that you don't have to accept phone contact from the RIAA lawyers, but could demand correspondence by mail. I've been deposed twice – for nine hours one day and for another seven a few weeks ago – where I was asked every irrelevant question about my life, cars that I owned, websites I've operated. The RIAA will try to denigrate this, saying I was only talking for seven hours and then five and a half, but I was stuck in their office the entire time. You think it makes any difference to me when I can't work?

My sisters, dad and mother have all been deposed. My high-school friends, friends of the family too. My computer's been seized and hard drive copied, and my parents and sister narrowly escaped the same fate for their computers. And the professor who supervises my teaching is continually frustrated with my need to have people cover for me, while my research in grad school is put on hold to deal with people whose full-time job is to keep an anvil over my head. I have to consider every unrelated thing I do in my private life in the event that I'm interrogated under oath about it. I wonder how I'll stand up in a courtroom for hours having litigators try to convince a jury of my guilt and the reprehensibility of my character.

But the support helps. I've had a great team of Nesson's students helping and the professor himself has been magnificent. Most of all, I'm touched by the warm messages of support from the people who've written in, Twittered, and Facebooked me (though I've been too paranoid to friend strangers lately). Best hopes to others dealing with the same: Brittany Kruger, Jammie Thomas, and the other 39,997 of us.

The trial starts today, 27 Monday July. Regrettably, it won't be webcast as we requested due to the RIAA's successful opposition, but we willtweet (with the hashtag #jfb) and blog as much as possible, and there is a website where you can follow us and learn more.

当我提笔的时候，心理其实有几分畏惧。虽然那帮人已经夺走了我的电脑，还把我硬盘上的资料都拷贝了一遍，但同样的勾当他们会不会再干第二遍？我心里着实没底。在过去的整整4年里，他们不断地威胁我、恐吓我，强迫我去法庭受审。他们还逼迫我和我的家人朋友暂停工作，去接受他们的盘问——第一次他们拉我过去，盘问了整整了9个小时，第二次则长达7个小时。如今，我已欠下了450万美元的罚款。而上一个遭此厄运的人，在经陪审团裁决后，又被罚192万美元。

当我仔细反思这一切的时候，我常常不得不提醒自己被控诉的缘由。是投资欺诈？抢劫赌场？还是扮黑客攻击联邦政府？不，这些都不是。我不过是在互联网上分享了音乐，而且拒绝对唱片公司服软。

每当我向别人解释这一状况时，得到的反应都毫无二致：每个人惊讶得目瞪口呆，同时感到发自肺腑的义愤。我知道，他们是震惊于美国唱片业协会（RIAA）竟然偷偷摸摸地干着这种事情。“那些人怎么找上你的？”他们常常这样问道。我解释说，不仅是我，还有4万人也受到相同的控诉。而我们，则是从数百万计的音乐分享者中随机抽选出来的牺牲品。所有人在听到这句的时候，都惊惧不已，一副“天哪，我可能就是下一个！”的表情。

这类起诉，其实从没有造成过什么大的轰动，除了被告者们激烈反抗外，大体上一直波澜不惊。因为它们并不影响大部分人的平静生活。我却不幸成为了那倒霉的极少数。我的故事，还要从4年前说起。

2005年，我的父母收到了一封由索尼BMG、华纳、亚特兰大唱片公司、芒刺唱片和UMG唱片公司联合署名的来信，信中声称我们“侵犯版权”。他们还随信附送了一家电话咨询中心的号码，说那是“问题处理热线”。在信中，他们特别强调，电话中心的工作人员“绝不是律师”。大概是他们要威吓的人太多，实在忙不过来吧，所以便不得不设立了这样一家装模作样的电话中心，那感觉就是供你做做“1-800-别起诉我”的样子。

我打了电话过去，发现中心的接线生只会不停地问你，你愿意赔多少钱啊（我相信，他们希望的是3000美元），他们还不断重复说，一旦打起官司来，你要偿付的数目只会更加骇人。我寄给了他们一张500美元的汇票，被他们退了回来。我只好告诉这些接线生，我实在拿不出更多的钱了。于是他们同我讨论，看我是否能申请到“财务困难”的证明。再之后就没有了消息，我也没有追问其中的原因。随后，我从大学毕了业，开始了我的物理学博士学位学习。

紧接着，2007年8月的某一天，我在下班回家的路上突然发现了一叠厚厚的纸，大概有50页厚吧，就躺在我的公寓门口。霎时，我突然明白了自己面临着怎样的状况——资产数十亿的大公司，联手业内顶级的版权法律师，毫无保留地欺凌我这样一个普通人，而我所做的，不过是与其他歌迷一起，分享涅磐乐队的《和你来》（Come As You Are)。

我本以为，既然在法庭上人人平等，只要开了庭，我应该不乏机会说出自己的委屈，并最终得到一个公正的审判结果。哪知，我随后发现，要闹到法庭上得到开口的机会，都千难万难、阻挠重重。就算终于上了法庭（要知道，目前还只有一个叫杰米·托马斯·拉塞特（Jammie Thomas Rasset）的人做到了这一点），你也远远不能和你强大的对手相提并论，它们可是掌控了全美音乐市场85%份额的庞大联盟啊。

更糟的是，这场所谓的对战，其实根本不能称之为对战。因为要对抗，你首先应知道自己是受的什么控诉，并且知道要辩论的基本问题。然而，大多数时候你什么都不清楚。那叠厚实的纸只告诉你，你已经欠下了几千美元，并且如果你选择找律师，大概还要花费更多的钱。当然，前提是有律师愿意帮你。

我和他们其中一个科罗拉多的律师有过密切的联系。当时，她对我十分无礼，甚至到了恶毒的地步（“承认了吧，乔尔，我相信你肯定做了。”）我则继续保持礼貌，告诉她“我尊重你的立场”“我们的观点有所不同，但我尊重这一点。”对于她的恐吓，我没法录下来，因为她只和我用电话联系。

每次谈话，她都试图从我口中套出些什么，企图弄清楚我会怎样为自己辩护。她告诉我说，如果我现在不就地接受罚款的话，将来背负的罚款数目将更庞大。有时候，我被她吓到了，就打电话给我的母亲。她也是一个国家级职业律师，负责有关儿童监护的案件。我问她我该怎么办，然后在她的建议下，我们盲目而不顾一切地反击。最终，我的母亲再也不敢接我电话了，害怕我又要讨论案子的事情。后来我答应支付5250美元，把案子交给法庭处理，结果被美国唱片业协会拒绝了，他们要我拿10，500美元才罢休。就这样，我仿佛看到自己被捆绑在传送带上，一步步接近锋利的齿轮，等待迎接不可避免的噩运。

后来，2008年夏，我在家中发现了另一封信，是从哈佛法学院寄来。好奇之下，我拆开信，读了起来。信中写道：“我名叫查理斯·尼森（Charles Nesson）, 是哈佛法学院的一名教授。你的案子我听说了，如果我能帮得上什么忙的话，请不要犹豫，打电话叫我一声。”我立刻打了电话过去。尼森接了。我说，“是的，我太需要你的帮助了！”我妈还给尼森先生写了一封信，告诉他我们现在的境况。而信的开头称呼是“亲爱的、天赐的教授”。

此后，从尼森那里，我懂得了我没必要一定去接RIAA律师们的电话。我可以要求他们通过邮件联络我。随后，我被拉去盘问了两次——一次持续了9个小时，另一次，就在前几星期发生的，持续了7个小时。他们问了我一切无关案子的问题，问了我的生活，我买的车，我建立的网站。当然，若提到此事，RIAA只会轻描淡写地带过去，他们会说我不过谈了7个小时的话，第二次则谈了5个半小时。但那期间我可都困在他们的办公室里啊。你觉得对我来说，只要不能去上班，做什么有啥区别么？

我的姐妹、父母也都被停过工作。甚至连我的高中朋友，和家里的朋友，都牵连了进来。我的电脑已经被他们夺去了，硬盘上的资料已被拷贝了一遍。家里其他人的电脑也险些遭此厄运。我的指导教授对我沮丧失望，因为我长期找人顶替我学习。而我在学校的研究也被迫中断，因为我要分出神来，努力对付那些成天专职找我麻烦的人。我还常常不得不把生活中所有做过的无关紧要的事情都回想一遍，以便应付那些宣誓后盘问。我怀疑，真的到了我上法庭的那一天，我到底还有没有力气站上好几个小时，听诉讼律师向陪审团们陈诉我的罪过，诉说我是多么罪有应得。

然而，我也得到了不少支持，并为之深感振奋。尼森的不少聪明优秀的学生都一直在帮我，而尼森教授本人更是无与伦比。更重要的是，有许多人还在Twitter和Facebook上面分享了我的故事，支持我、鼓励我，我为此深受感动（虽然最近我变得十分多疑，不太敢结交陌生人了）。我想把最真挚的祝福，也送给那些和我一道遭此不幸的人：布列塔尼克鲁格（Brittany Kruger）, 杰米·托马斯（Jammie Thomas）,以及其他39,997个受害的同胞们。

今天就是审判开始的日子了——7月27号，星期一。然而遗憾的是，由于RIAA的成功抵制，我们的请求遭到了驳回，审判不会进行网上直播。但没关系，我们会在twitter上面“推”它（并且加上#jfb的符号），也会在通过博客努力传播这一消息。亲爱的读者们，如果你们想了解更多，可以点这个网站，跟踪我们的最新消息。

这是真的吗？一个人的力量怎么能和一个庞大的律师团抗衡，这个唱片业协会简直就是无赖，连续不断 的消磨别人的时间和意志，几年下来要把人逼疯。