who da man

There’s a Starbucks commercial that features young people in business clothes stomping around a city street like army cadets. Or stepping like members of a black fraternity, though most of the people in the ad are white. They’re doing one of those marching chants, only instead of saying one-two-three-four, they’re telling each other he/she is da man. I think there’s a tag line at the end that says something about joining the Starbucks army. I may have imagined that last bit. Even if I did imagine it, that is certainly the message of the advertisement. It creeps me out.

I can’t shake the 1984 fog I’ve been in for a couple of weeks. I see signs everywhere. Certainly when the shit is going down, Starbucks will be involved. Perhaps we can wish they are a force for good, filling up each city, town and hamlet with their green and black logos and strong coffee and wi-fi, silently waiting until the thought police are stalking the streets. Maybe then every Starbucks will offer sanctuary, turning into the one place you can go where your phone and email conversations aren’t recorded, where you can have a differing point of view without being called a [fill-in-the-blank] sympathizer, where words have meaning and people are held accountable for lying.

Or not. Six of one.

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