There's been quite a bit of hand-wringing over the decline and fall of the Nanluoguxiang scene. It's a pity, but so are death and taxes, and all three are equally inevitable. The half-life of a city hot spot lasts at most two years, and Nanluoguxiang is well past its 2006-08 heyday. In any event, the passing of Nanluoguxiang bodes no lasting harm to Beijing's cultural identity.

Its greatest threat, however, stands embodied in The Village at Sanlitun. Never has so much glass and LCD flashed on so little redeeming value. If only it resembled other Beijing supermall boondoggles, window-shopped by day and avoided by night, we would be safe. But The Village is a golem, one in a worldwide infestation of Frankenspots spawned by the enemy of all that is sacred: global consumer culture.

If Nanluoguxiang is a dying scene, The Village is an anti-scene. The law of hot spots has been turned on its head: the greedy come first, developers and shareholders agreeing on profits and exit strategies.

Of course, there is the usual attempt at authentic hot spot cool; in fact, huge money has gone into executing its bizarre postmodern hutong labyrinth concept.

But you can't buy cool, or plan it. Cool is a corollary of quality, which only occurs when care and commitment come first, not greed.

Instead, The Village is stylish, up-to-date with all the brands and services that help distract us from the lack of true quality in our lives. As a result, many people hang out at The Village, but they're not really there.

Whether at the obligatory beer 'n' grilled meat joint, or the Red Toad, or the blinky-gadget store, or just wandering the endless corridors, everyone has the same glazed look on their faces that they wear when they watch TV.

To stay on the positive side, you can visit a time or two, for Chinese to see what they're "missing" in the West, or for Westerners who are feeling nostalgic to get a full-on simulation of the Fuddruckered abyss of discretionary income you used to haunt back home. Then you'll remember why you left home in the first place and why it doesn't matter if you never return.

It doesn't matter because now there are cool scenes and anti-scenes worldwide, and the rate of hot-spot decay holds constant worldwide, following an almost biological cycle, as Nanluoguxiang did in Beijing.

First come the pioneers, the visionaries who open Pass By bars and Zha Zha Cafes. It certainly helps if there's a source of young, beautiful people nearby; in Nanluoguxiang's case, it's the Central Academy of Drama. Soon, there is a quantum leap in the key demographic: those young and bored who are more interested in setting a trend than in following one.

After a year or two, the hot spot reaches full maturity, enjoying international publicity in guidebooks, but still enough credibility to draw the beautiful people and scenesters who are a hot spot's lifeblood. The ratio of khaki-panted camera pointers to the goateed caf-squatters who sneer at them holds roughly equal.

Finally, greed drives out cool. The landlords start doubling and tripling rents, as though their buildings make the magic, rather than the creative, committed people who rent them. Big money claim jumpers push in, throwing millions into corporate venues, in a vain effort to co-opt what cannot be co-opted - authenticity. The now not-so-hot-spot turns overhyped, overpriced over.

Again, to look on the bright side, you can still order a great mojito at Nanluoguxiang, as you can at Houhai, while surrounded by enough gray brick and crumbling tile to declare, "I'm in Beijing, nowhere else."

Better yet, they can kill the place, but not the scene, not for long. Even now, there's another Beijing hot spot budding, most likely in another hutong, although certainly not at Dashilar.

Another unalterable law of hot spots is that they cannot be planted, but must germinate wherever the wind and soil are right.

If you want to find this budding hot spot, and please realize it won't be much to look at now, follow a hipster on Friday night. He'll have a full beard, even though he's employed and under 25. He'll also be wearing a winter cap, even though it's May.

Alternatively, you can shadow a pack of German architects on the weekend. You'll know them by their rhomboidal spectacle frames. They'll take you there.