Andy Warhol's statement that “everyone gets their fifteen minutes of fame” is one of contemporary society's defining clichés. Although Warhol himself has far exceeded his allotted time slot, his dismissive remark captures our fascination with the fleeting, here-today-gone-tomorrow status of celebrity. It is as much a comment on people's limited attention span as it is on the nature of fame itself. However, there are some characters who transcend the fashions and fads of the moment and earn lasting renown. Although some earn fame through their worthy achievements, others carve out infamy for themselves by the turpitude of their deeds.

The criminal justice process has generated more than its fair share of infamous characters. Few do not know of Jack the Ripper or Al Capone; they have become the popular stuff of villainous imagery. Yet there are some who find their way into the public consciousness through less spectacular routes; they are memorialized in the details of law's sprawling narrative. One of those is Ernesto Miranda. He was a sad-sack, if schizophrenic, criminal who through force of circumstance and legal serendipity has left a lasting impression on police manuals and investigative behaviors. In a dubious legacy, the name Miranda has come to be intimately associated with the constitutional rights of criminal suspects.