Soon, somewhere in this neighborhood, Amazon will open its first brick-and-mortar bookstore, and it will look like an Apple Store mated with the paperback aisle at QFC.
Just in case you haven’t noticed during this so-called digital literature revolution, the e-book and paper-and-paste best-seller lists are exactly the same. There has been no changing of the guard among brand-name authors and no Walt Whitman self-publishing an eccentric classic. Digital literature is only the capitalistic exploitation of our consumerist desires to be exactly like our neighbors. In other words, Amazon is as old-fashioned and predictable as khaki pants.
That’s not surprising considering the khaki-clad herds of Amazon employees who wander these meanless streets. In the Central District, I have to contend with young black males giving me the stink eye as they slowly jaywalk in front of my car. In South Lake Union, I startle Amazon employees who, absorbed by their cell phones, have stepped into the street without checking for traffic. They always wave, apologize, and hurry to safety.
Amazon: home of the polite monopolists. 