Military Industrial Caffeine Complex – that's where I am today. I must confess.

I usually avoid the big chain java joint – Starbutts – for my daily infusion, but today it couldn't be helped. My usual coffeehouse has been closed a lot lately. A lot of small businesses around here commit suicide, de rigueur, and it has seemed quite depressed. But there is a sign in the window citing a death in the family. So maybe it's the other side of that coin.

Are those the coins that were his eyes?  No no, that's not right.

… Here, said she,     
Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor,     
(Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!)     
Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,     
The lady of situations.

I digress. My situation is that I'm camped out in Starbucks, famous for so many things. The McDonalds of liquid self-indulgence. Purveyor of the mediocre bean to the great bourgeoisie. They who played the big joke on their customers of hooking all their shops to T-mobile internet connections. Which means that only a small fraction of java jonesers can get online. Asshats.

Avast! … um …. Arrrrg!