Scott knew he was breaking the law, but he rationalized by telling himself that because it all was free he wasn't supporting the porn industry. He never counted, but he was told later he had 15,000 images.

In 2005, Scott was caught in a random security sweep. In short order, he found himself chained to a bench awaiting a bond hearing at 26th and California. There, he says, six guards called him a pervert and beat him, mostly on his back, leaving him with shoulder problems to this day. The guards, he says, also gave some of the more offensive photos to other prisoners in the holding cell, in what Scott saw as an attempt to incite more violence.

Scott thought he might not survive a prison sentence. He pleaded guilty in exchange for 30 months of probation.

He thought the case was over and he could start straightening out his life. He was wrong. It wasn't.

As he was signing paperwork, he learned that as a convicted sex offender he couldn't go to schools, he would have to register online and there would be strict limits on where he could live. It was the first Scott had heard about that part of the deal.

"I was in shock," he says.

Restrictions during his probation were difficult. He wasn't allowed to use the Internet, which he needed for his job. He had to quit a part-time gig as a musician because a member of his musical group was 16.

Scott learned that a large part of the metropolis is off limits for convicted sex predators looking for a place to live. Finally, he found an apartment in a DuPage County suburb. He got a geological survey map to make sure that he was not less than 500 feet from a school, park or day care center. The map said he had a 730-foot margin. The local police told him he couldn't live there anyway. With no alternatives, he stood his ground, and the police relented.

Scott completed his probation successfully. Once again, he thought the case was over. He was wrong. It wasn't.

This year, the Legislature passed a new law banning sexual predators from being within 500 feet of parks. The law is retroactive, which means it includes Scott. He can never go to the lakefront, a Bears game or a forest preserve or play tennis with his friends in a park for the rest of his life. The new music group he performs with sometimes appears in parks. He won't be there when it does.

Scott worries he might be caught unwittingly within 500 feet of a small park he doesn't even know exists. He reads the agendas of every village board meeting to make sure a licensed day care facility isn't opening within 500 feet of his apartment, meaning he would have to move. And he monitors the Legislature, where bills have been introduced to add nursing homes and libraries to the places he can't go and to extend the 500-foot limit to 1,000 feet (he'd have to move again).

People who counsel sex offenders say the best way to avoid recidivism is to help offenders establish stable housing, employment and social relationships. The Legislature seems more intent on making them pariahs.

Murderers, drug dealers, robbers and others guilty of serious crimes are welcome in parks and forest preserves once they've served their time. It's absurd to argue people like Scott pose a greater danger.

Other states make an effort to apply the strictest limits only to offenders whose records suggest they are likely to attack children.

Before the Illinois Legislature wields its hammer again, it should consider doing likewise.