I don't do it so much any more (something to do with being married, maybe?), but I used to spend many of my Friday and Saturday nights in my car, wandering around and exploring LA. I'd just pick a direction and go, following whatever streets seemed most interesting. I wanted to see what LA had to offer, get a sense for all the different areas and neighborhoods. I'd drive until I got tired, then break out my Thomas Guide, figure out where I was, and then head for home.

On one of these expeditions I was cruising through Alhambra and this cool sci-fi mural caught my eye, a picture of a War-of-the-Worlds tripod machine with a U.S.A.F. insignia on it. As I drove by I caught the mural on the opposite side, a 1950s movie hero and his babe, saying "We gotta get back to Earth". I had to stop and see what it was. I stopped in and ordered a macchiato.

The guy behind the counter looked at me and said, "Do you want the kind they serve you at Starbucks, or a REAL one?". I loved this place already. The walls were covered with edgy psychedelic art by local artists, and the place was filled with students, probably from Cal State LA or PCC. They charged for wireless (and had really clunky password system) but were generous with outlets for laptops. There were always a couple guys in the back doing whatever on the rental computers. They were open til 1 or 2am.

Una and I spent a lot of evenings and holidays lounging on the sofas and surfing or working on our laptops, ordering refills and more White Castle burgers or mini pizzas. The help were always quirky and sometimes even weird, but always good for some laughs and interesting conversation. The first time I took my EeePC there a guy came over and asked to see it; while he was looking it over he mentioned that he was a member of Cult of the Dead Cow. I was always running over to the counter to find out what was playing over the sound system. Una and I would talk about how cool it was to see the mixture of Asians and Latinos in the place, and Alhambra just seemed like a cool place to be.

But now it's over. I don't know exactly what happened to iBrowse, but I have my suspicions: Starbucks.

I hate Starbucks. My hatred started back in grad school when I lived in West LA near Culver City. I used to walk to this local coffee place two or three times a week, hauling my books and my laptop. I loved being able to study around other people instead of alone in my apartment. I loved that they had stand-up comedy and live music in the second room. I loved the newsstand on the side of the building, which at the time had a better selection than Borders in Westwood. I loved how in the late afternoon it was the hangout of what seemed like the neighborhood's Ethiopian population. The place was always packed, with a steady stream of people dropping in to tank up or buy beans.

Then Starbucks came. They put a Starbucks on Venice to the west, then another one to the east, and yet another one a block south in the Culver City downtown. One night while I was there with a friend a tough Mafia-hitman-looking guy came in, tore down the shelves of a bookcase across from the counter and stalked out. Seconds later a huge Cadillac with tinted windows swooped around the corner to pick him up. A month later my favorite coffee hangout was out of business. The newsstand closed a week or two later.

You can see this pattern all over. It seems like any place you find a cool local independant coffee place you'll find a Starbucks sitting prominently on the nearest expensive real estate. You saw this in Alhambra. You see it in Sierra Madre where you have to drive past one of those hated shops to get to Beantown. I'm typing this at Tenju Tea House at Rosemead and Las Tunas; tucked in the corner of the same strip mall nearby is Roadhouse Coffee. Starbucks sits in the most expensive spot, right on the corner.

This whole thing just burns me up. I love local businesses, run by individual people who have dreams and who want to make their own contribution to their neighborhood. Local coffeehouses are unique, decorated by the owners, usually with art by local folks, and they play music that they select themselves instead of whatever the corporate office dictates. Whenever I go to some place where all you see are chain stores with the same trademarks that you see everywhere plastered on every available surface, it makes me want to throw up, it makes me want to find some place with personality, like a place with a war-of-the-worlds tripod mural out front.

Starbucks partisans will complain that it's not Starbucks' fault, they're just supplying coffee to people who want it, et cetera, et cetera, blah blah blah. Unfortunately there's a degree of truth in that - people make decisions about where to go and lots of times they decide to go to Starbucks. And lots and lots of people want the same exact bland corporate coffee and logos. They want to know they can get the same exact coffee and sit in the same chair and look at the same poster in Los Angeles or Fresno or Wichita or Portland or Seattle. Why the frak would they want that??? It doesn't make sense to me. Why would you not want to experience something unique about the place where you find yourself? Just don't go there. Don't give them any of your money, don't support them in any way.

And don't let it stop there - go just a little bit out of your way and find a local coffee place that somebody built themselves and poured their personality and love into. That place where funky weird people don't have to feel out of place and where you might just get out of your comfort zone and discover something or someone cool and new. Keep local coffee alive!

iBrowse, we'll always have fond memories of you!

The protagonist in the Algebraist, Fassin Taak, lives in a galaxy-wide civilization called the Mercatoria, which was nearly destroyed by AIs long ago, and which is currently under attack by a bunch of terrorists (the Beyonders). A lot of what we do hear is filtered through the Mercatoria - people describe the beyonders in the Mercatoria's terms because that's what they've been allowed to find out. As the novel progresses, we sift through the propaganda and get a different picture.

Turns out that the Mercatoria which seemed pretty normal and good to most of the people who live there, is in reality the hegemonizing oppressive ruler of the galaxy. The Beyonders live in habitats out between the stars because they've been driven away from the central worlds and that's where they can survive. The glimpses we get suggest that everything we've heard is a load of FUD, and they're actually pretty honorable and cool people. I wish we'd gotten more than a few tantalizing glimpses, but maybe that's what makes them so cool.

The Beyonders really struck a huge resonant chord with me. Not their violent actions (though their violence has limits, unlike other groups in the book), but how they have to hide away just so they can live a life free from control. They make me think of the citizens of Zion deep under the sewers of Machine City, the crew of Serenity, who fought on the losing side of a war against the oppressive, conformist Alliance, the ferals of Kim Stanley Robinson's Antarctica. Or real world Jews, Mennonites and other underground Christian groups (but without the violence), and lots of other groups who just want to be free and do their own thing.

Oh, and free/open-source software people. To be sure, being a GNU/Linux partisan is a lot safer than following some radical religious or political idea, but it definitely takes sacrifice and work to stay free in the face of slick, seductive proprietary software (I'm not immune - my PowerBook boots OS X as well as Ubuntu and I use Ableton Live for music). Open source people have to carve out their own community and make their own space in the cracks of the harsh business landscape.

So anyway. To Linux, the official OS of the diaspora and the underground. It's probably installed on The Serenity and software libre most probably runs the Beyonders' mesh network.