The bike messenger who handed me that seven-pound stack of legal documents was apologetic. He said he thought what I was doing was hilarious and walked away with shoulders hunched. A dark job, indeed, to be the bearer of such troubling news. Did he recognize me as a kindred spirit, someone else from the lower rungs of this ever-increasingly corporate, money-driven society, or was he just permanently hunched from heaving such wasteful cargo on a daily basis?

I had never waded through hundreds of pages of rambling legalese before. Much of it was nearly indecipherable. A few things were glaringly clear, though: without so much as a simple cease-and-desist letter, Starbucks was suing me for copyright and trademark infringement, as well as damages and a recoup of their legal fees for filing the case. Reflecting on my financial situation, it was hard not to laugh at the last bit, and equally hard not to cry. Had I woken up that morning in Bizarro World, where up is down, good is bad, and rich is poor? No, it was just another day in Corporate America: wake up and smell the lawsuits!

I wasn’t entirely surprised by this action from Starbucks Corp. When I conceived my parody of the Starbucks logo more than a year before and put it on some T-shirts [see photo], I knew there was some risk of legal action but wasn’t overly concerned. However, knowing it was the image I wanted for the cover of my comic book, LCD: Kieron Dwyer’s Lowest Comic Denominator, I decided to consult a lawyer about the copyright/trademark issues involved. Through a referral from California Lawyers for the Arts, a national nonprofit organization with regional branches in nearly every state, I was put into contact with Andrew Gold of the San Francisco/Bay-Area firm Bogatin, Corman & Gold.

When Andy saw the image, he laughed. It was the usual reaction to my parody, which clearly pokes fun at Starbucks as well as consumerism in general. My logo is also a sly dig at the person wearing the shirt, acknowledging their own complicity in the capitalist food-chain. It’s true humor, drawn from a tragic sense of hopelessness in the face of something sad and inevitable -- i.e., the planetary destruction wrought by this unstoppable consuming machine that is the human race.

Starbucks is an immense player in this destruction. The process of creating coffee, especially on the scale demanded by our 24-7, Internet-driven economy, is incredibly destructive to the planet, from the growing and reaping process straight to the largely unrecyclable waste on the consumer end. After a Starbucks opened in my own neighborhood, I noticed a marked increase in the trash I saw (and continue to see) on the streets near my home. I would estimate a good 80% of this trash to be Starbucks cups and such. With their icon emblazoned on everything they make, it’s not a difficult thing to notice.

It was this sudden proliferation of trash, as well as my own weekly--sometimes daily(!)--excursions to the siren’s chocolatey, Frappuccino-bearing bosom, that initally prompted me to concoct my parody logo and the slogan “Consumer Whore.” (The slogan is a mental slip from the words “consume more now,” ultimately inspiring me to add the phrase “Buy More Now” to the final design.)

At that time, I knew very little about copyright technicalities and such, but I was sure that I had to make appreciable changes in virually every aspect of the logo to make it distinct from the original. Ironically, it still had to retain enough of the original to have the intended impact. Given the phrase “Consumer Whore” on which the parody was to be based, it was clear that the siren herself needed to be the focal point. I altered her in nearly any way I could think of: specifically, I gave her face a more dazed and gape-mouthed expression than the placid mermaid, adding nipples and a navel ring to suggest a blow-up doll or typical bimbo; I gave her arms in place of fins, and in those arms I placed a coffee cup and a cell phone (commenting on the typical high-speed clientele at virtually every Starbucks I’d ever been in); finally, I added jewels to her crown and replaced all the stars from the original with dollar signs, thereby clarifying--if there was any doubt--her “princess” status and her primary preoccupation (as well as that of Starbucks corporate management, presumably).

I proudly displayed my finished logo on my nascent web site, which was sorely in need of some dynamic visuals. A friend suggested the addition of red blinking nipples, and the rest, as they say, was history. Or soon to be, perhaps.

My initial meeting with lawyer Andy Gold was comforting. I was aware of the potential for trouble from Starbucks, which had shown little regard for small businesses in its own domain. Still, it seemed like a long shot that they would sue someone like myself, someone clearly doing a humorous magazine and related merchandise, and on such a small, very limited scale -- infinitesimal, really, by contrast with Starbucks. Andy confirmed this opinion and suggested that their first reaction to me would most certainly be a cease-and-desist letter. Should I ignore or defy such a warning, their response would very likely be legal action. Bolstered by this interaction, I decided to go to print and self-published 2,000 copies of the first full-sized LCD with the parody logo adorning its cover.

While I would qualify the debut of my comic as successful and personally rewarding, it’s pretty hard to set the world on fire with a mere 2,000 copies of anything, let alone a comic book in the current depressed marketplace. Frankly, I thought I was safe in the relative obscurity of the comics world, until the dark day of April 29.

Having received the legal papers on a Saturday morning, it wasn’t possible for me to contact a lawyer until first thing Monday (coincidence?), and a response was required by close of business Wednesday (hmmmm . . .). Fortunately, Andy was available to meet with me early Monday, at which point I gave him copies of the fat legal stack. He was shocked at the nature of the case, saying it was “the most aggressive action” Starbucks could have taken under the circumstances. I didn’t know whether to be flattered or scared. We both agreed that it would be in my best interest to be a millionaire, thereby enabling an adequate defense against the java juggernaut. Unfortunately, I was about a million bucks short.

Undaunted by the clear financial advantage of my new “suitor,” I resolved not to settle the case, at least until we had an initial hearing. To his credit, Andy was willing to represent me pro bono for a limited amount of time, and I set about looking for some deeper pockets to assist me in what seemed to be a very clear First-Amendment case. I put in a call to the local chapter of the ACLU, where a woman was very dismissive without taking any time to hear the specifics. Disheartened, I called Chris Oarr, Executive Director of the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund (CBLDF). Chris was familiar with LCD, and we had both anticipated the Fund’s eventual involvement on my behalf in some capacity -- most likely an obscenity case -- but this was not the circumstance we’d been expecting. After speaking with Chris and the Fund’s legal counsel, Burton Joseph, Andy officially petitioned the CBLDF for financial assistance in my case.

May 26, 2000 was the initial hearing date for Starbucks v. Dwyer, Case no. C 00 1499 MMC. U.S. District Judge Maxine Chesney ruled in my favor on the copyright- and trademark-infringement claims, indicating that she found my logo to be a clear parody (she even called it “pretty clever”) and refuting Starbucks’ contention that consumers were likely to be confused or deceived by it. She found in the coffee corp’s favor on the issue of trademark tarnishment or dilution, mostly because of the commercial use. Her final injunction order prohibits me from selling anything with the parody logo or using it to promote any other goods or services for sale.

The whole court experience was very odd. Everything reinforced the David vs. Goliath nature of the case. The handful of people present made the courtroom seem larger and more imposing, and the lawyer pleading Starbucks’ case was a very large, tall man who crowded Andy out of the podium area, even when the judge was not addressing him. This made Andy seem smaller and scrappier than he is. The in-house counsel for Starbucks was a very heavyset woman dressed entirely in lime green (“official corporate color?” I wondered). She contributed nothing to the case, but was allowed to sit in the “official” area, whereas I was confined to the gallery. Not being a “sit-on-my-thumbs” type, it was particularly hard not to be able to pipe up when I felt something was being overlooked or misrepresented. Andy did a great job, though, and I was pleased overall with the outcome, despite some disappointments.

As of this writing, the CBLDF’s board of directors has yet to commit to aiding in my defense. Andy Gold has thus far received no compensation for the hard work he’s done on the case. I have no regular income and can no longer sell my shirts, stickers, or the #0 issue of LCD. While not the cornerstone of my “empire,” the shirts and stuff brought in some spending money, now lost. The attention I get from the case waxes and wanes as the media chews up stories and spits them out. I continue to draw my comics and cast about for something reliable, workwise. Starbucks Corp. trucks along its merry little world-dominating way (the company’s stated goal is 20,000 retail outlets worldwide -- it currently has around 2,900) and presumably feels no impact from the negative press or its campaign of bad will. Their lawyers indicate that Starbucks is uninterested in settling the case based on the terms of the injunction order, calling the siren logo “the jewel in the company’s crown.” What this means is that, despite shutting down any profitability my parody had, Starbucks really wants it eradicated entirely. Can you say “GREEDY?” Can you spell “BOYCOTT?”

The greatest irony here is that I was a frap-addict with very little will control. Any profits I might have made from the sale of my shirts and stuff already went back to Starbucks to feed my habit. While I don’t recommend it, getting sued was the surest and fastest way to kick it. I’ll never let another frosty Starbucks frap pass my lips, so I’m glad my last one was a good one. From now on, I’ll drink Dr. Pepper. Wouldn’t you like to be a Pepper, too, Consumer Whore?

Please keep abreast of the latest developments in the case at www.LCDcomic.com, also accessible via www.SuedByStarbucks.com !

Kieron Dwyer is an illustrator and satirist who has drawn everything from high-profile Superman comics to Ed McMahon taking a crap on an old woman’s bed.