The conference room is already full by the time I
arrive to catch Stallman's speech. The gender breakdown
is a little better than at the New York speech, 85%
male, 15% female, but not by much. About half of the
audience members wear khaki pants and logo-encrusted
golf shirts. The other half seems to have gone native.
Dressed in the gaudy flower-print shirts so popular in
this corner of the world, their faces are a deep shade
of ochre. The only residual indication of geek status
are the gadgets: Nokia cell phones, Palm Pilots, and
Sony VAIO laptops.
Needless to say, Stallman, who stands in front of the
room dressed in plain blue T-shirt, brown polyester
slacks, and white socks, sticks out like a sore thumb.
The fluorescent lights of the conference room help
bring out the unhealthy color of his sun-starved skin.
His beard and hair are enough to trigger beads of sweat
on even the coolest Hawaiian neck. Short of having the
words "mainlander" tattooed on his forehead, Stallman
couldn't look more alien if he tried.
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