good earth

Something that goes direct from farm to bottle can't be anything but Californian, at least being presented like it is.  The bottle also makes a point to assure us that the hops are also local, California hops.  Despite the locavoracity, I found it in Spain.

It's more chocolate syrup, but with a fluffier head than Rooie Dop.  It's porter, not stout, so that accounts for the sharp smell, not very sweet, maybe a little bitter, like a robust dark chocolate.  The taste is sour first, then chocolatey but not very sweet.  A tongue covering bitter develops after a bit of sitting, also a touch of smoke.  I don't catch the vanilla outright, although the label insists it's there.  It's probably too melded into the chocolate part, which is just fine with me.

Dark chocolate, unbeatable

Where Does Technique End and Art Begin?

This was a suggestion by the Organizer, which is not too surprising as he dabbles in photography, an area where both art and technique weigh heavily.  The question seems to be, at what point does production stop being a simple matter of work or just doing your job and become something to be admired by others?  "Technique" is generally understood to be the way we do things, the best way, the most efficient way, the way that requires skill.  "Art" is...well, what is art anyway?

In contrasting the two concepts, we agreed for the most part that art has an emotional component that technique does not.  A technical achievement can be emotionally neutral, while an artistic one must provoke an emotional response, especially with strong emotions like joy, rage, or disgust.  Art is provocative, whether awful or pleasing.  The Professional Artist said that art also has no practical utility.  Although many of us would argue that there is such a thing as functional art, his point is that the beauty of the object is not necessary for it to do its job, so the art itself has no function beyond being pleasing to the eye.

The Writer modified the topic title slightly in his essay, which the Artist believed was a better expression of the question, but the Writer himself said that it is not certain that art will develop from any technical activity.  The two concepts are linked in that technique is necessary for the proper expression of art, but technique can exist as an expression of activity or production by itself.  I mentioned that there are some exceptions, where untrained but highly talented or inspired individuals create art without training or conscious technique, but they are exceptions.  Even the same person cannot hope to always produce the effect without knowing how he or she did so in the first place.  I pointed out the Star Wars series as an example: the first movies had "heart" for many viewers, often using very simple effects like a flying shoe; the second trilogy disappointed many because of the distractions of the effects, not to mention the modified versions of the originals frustrating the experiences of fans.  The technique of using technology to create backgrounds and characters can turn out beautifully, but when done apparently without that "heart", but only as cold calculation, it can turn the audience off.  The Artist insisted that art is decided individually, even if there is an overwhelming group opinion, so that everything can be considered art by anyone.  Art cannot truly be defined, only felt.

The Organizer then explained himself, saying his question was not really about technique or art at all, but evoking feeling.  He described himself as influenced by the Impressionists.  Master painters know how many brush strokes to use and how to frame and present their works; some works need to be seen in a certain light for their intended effect to be felt, blending the creation with its environment.  He also pointed out the human desire for patterns, how we are "programmed" to seek them out and find them even in natural phenomena.  Art rides the line of following the patterns we are comfortable with, but with something different that forces us to pay attention to it.  The trick is to avoid being too different, since that can cause anxiety and repulsion, although some artists do try to invoke those reactions as the aim of their work.  Regarding the question of cultures that do not have the same concept of art that we do, he implied that their art in incorporated into their technique, and something inseparable from the production of their functional objects.  Also, what we consider art today was sometimes more functional in the past: paintings of battles and leaders are a sort of forerunner of today's photojournalism; self-portraits are the selfies done before there were cameras.

The Artist noted that impressions of a piece of art are not universal, but can still cut across different cultures.  People all over the world can appreciate a Ming vase or feel a tremor of anxiety in front of a Black Painting.  He also commented that nobody likes Picasso even though we recognize his innovation of expression, which provoked a whine from some who are not able to process language that has levels of meaning and nuance.  "It's not true!  Some people like it!" was the squawking response.  It was the same complaint about Coke the week before when another participant stated that nobody liked it in the beginning and only drank it because it was in the (American) movies - basically, taking generalization as a personal offense.  The Artist continued, saying people are intimidated by the mind, and to know a person is to know his/her artistic capacity.  That is to say, impossible.  He concluded with the statement that the mystery of life is that we will never solve it.  As an artist of word and image himself, he tends to find the most provocative ways of closing.

blackened breakfast

Who can resist an oatmeal stout?  It's breakfast and dinner at once!  They also tend to have a distinct sweet bent, which is often something I'm looking for in the evening.  This one had a label that provokes curiosity.

It's a flaming smile, right?

It's like chocolate syrup coming out, with a slight fuzzy head.  The sweet chocolate smell wafts out too, as soon as the bottle is opened and taking a whiff from the glass.  It has a sweet first taste, somewhat syrupy, but with a bitter undertone.  The bitter never takes over, it remains essentially a sweet beer.  After a while the taste gets sharper, with just a bite of sour, but always smooth and easy going down.

Colonialism

It sounds like an old-fashioned concept to most of us in the Western world, something that we use to define attitudes of the 19th or early 20th century, without much relevance to our lives today.  However, the discussion made it clear that this is a belief blinded by lack of experience and perhaps privilege.

The Professional first gave us the very broad understanding of the word, disconnected from its cultural and political connotations, saying that it simply means something new establishing itself. "I want to be colonized by new ideas," he said.  In contrast, the brutal act of overpowering and causing the disappearance of peoples and cultures is better described as imperialism than colonialism.  However, he admitted, the usage of the word does highlight the common understanding that the process involves invasion and occupation, whether there are other people in the area or not.

The revelation of the continued existence of colonialism, even in our global and tolerant society, came from our Participant from the east.  He agreed with the previous contribution on the question of economic involvement or support in the act of colonization, and explained to us that it goes even farther than that; in his own country a (secretly) colonial power continues to "vet" presidential candidates even today, weeding out those who would upset the power balance and probably give the country more separation from its former "protector".  He mentioned other examples from the geographical area where foreign ideas have been adopted and assimilated into native cultures, but the results are not colonialism since the acceptance of these ideas was done freely and not imposed, at least not much, by outsiders.  Generally, the Participant writes a quick overview of his thoughts on the subject to be discussed, but this time he recycled an article he had previously written.  Later in the discussion, this was criticized by another speaker, who did not appreciate the analogy presented and was almost offended at the focus of the article, snorting that it was off-topic and we as a group should be more careful to keep to the question at hand.  I rather think this person just did not understand the analogy and was showing his frustration, since there have been uncountable instances of off-topic contributions throughout the life of the group, and he has not seen fit to complain so bitterly before.

The Professional, the Organizer, and I as well agreed that the keys to colonialism are the physical occupation of land and the financial reasons for doing so.  The colonists are there to claim resources that will bring them economic success, and if they can bend the natives to their way of thinking it will be easier to deal with them.  A group that is merely looking for a space to practice its own religion or way of life that does not attempt to assimilate or eliminate people they run into is not practicing colonialism; aggression is also a necessary component of the act.  The Organizer touched on his favorite topic, China, saying that today the Chinese are in the middle of a new colonization of Africa, building cities and moving Chinese people there, with the goal of extracting the resources as cheaply as they can.  It is possible that they are not engaging in the typical cultural colonization that one expects of European (or American) settlers and explorers, but they definitely and purposely affect and attempt to control the behavior of the people they come across with prior claim to the land and resources.  An Islander concurred and stated explicitly that the goal of colonialism is to enrich the colonizing country, along with eliminating the native culture and replacing it with the colonizers' own, although the financial benefits of this activity might not be obvious.  It seems to me almost a disorder.  The colonizer has ridiculously high self-regard, and believes that the "sharing" of culture is practically an act of charity and kindness to the poor, benighted natives who need some "civilizing" influence.  Speaking from his own history, he warned that colonialism and colonization inevitably lead to rebellion.

A Newcomer made the remark that foreign investment should not be confused with colonialism, as it benefits the community or country that receives the investment as much as the country that makes it.  He also gave us the old canard of "choice", stating firmly his belief that people choose to support whatever seems best to them and we should therefore not worry about multinational corporations or foreign companies replacing local business only to leave the area with nothing when their financial goals have been met.  The problem, I think, is that many people do not have a real choice at all.  They might choose between the cheap product and the ecologically or socially responsible product, but they are also choosing between the product and the rent, or food next week, or one pair of work shoes versus three.  Money cannot be ignored when we make choices, and it is naive to imagine we make all our decisions based on our personal codes of ethics.  Mostly, we follow the "ethics" of surviving in the best way we can.  The Professional also made it clear that we as individuals are mostly controlled by money.  The powerful and influential will do whatever they want without asking if anybody minds, and anyone who protests had better have some power of their own to back up the complaint.  Otherwise, it will disappear in the swirling hurricane of information and opinions that we have today in the age of communication.

In the end, the Essay Writer balanced the talk with a mention of the benefits of colonialism, saying that although there is an unavoidable damage to the colonized culture, there is also the benefit of being introduced to a more powerful one that can be appropriated to one's own advantage.  He speaks English because of colonialism, not because of his own coincidental interest or random chance.

Our economy makes colonialism a necessity, simply because of the ease with which it can be accomplished.  New resources are constantly needed, as well as new markets.  We do our best to focus on "individual freedom of choice", but as the Organizer said in closing, any contact has influence and mostly contact is not quiet but propagandist.  Everybody wants to control information and the opinions of others, "colonizing" them with our own.

say you want a what?

The times may make one feel like attacking the establishment sometimes, but most of the time you just want to hide away with a beer.  Could Revolution IPA be the best of both worlds?  It has a very clean, light scent when opened, but is unfiltered and almost a ruddy color.  Not especially heady either.  The first noticeable taste is slightly sweet, but the bitter aleness comes marching in immediately after, remarkably well behaved and proper.  While sitting in the glass the smell becomes sweeter, almost orangey.  It might be something that one quaffs after fighting a battle, to regroup, but I don't know that it would stimulate rebellion on it's own.  A good beverage while planning the next move, though.

Yeah, more laundry

So cute...

Shallowness

I had a certain amount of expectation for the topic, as the Source and I had had run-ins with "shallow" people in the past.  I was fairly certain I knew what kind of people he thought of as shallow.  There were preparatory thoughts from more than one source.

The Origin began with a bit of a complaint, saying that the Organizer was too focused on forming relationships in spite of shallowness, or that shallowness is a recognized obstacle to relationships, while he believed that relationships happen because of shallowness.  In both cases, the idea that we aren't terribly interested in what another person thinks or feels applies.  The shallow person, said the Origin, is interested in prestige objects but not in any deeper meaning.  This person has no real ethical or moral values; they seek to blend in with whatever group they find themselves in without any analysis of "right" and "wrong" in the system of the group.  Shallow people probably tend to look for the "strongest" group, and adopt the values that they associate with it, rather than decide for themselves what is moral or ethical based on a code of values they adopt as individuals.

The Doctor presented us with a list of synonyms for "shallow", but went on to say that words are traps, and we shouldn't trust anybody who speaks without experience.  Philosophy itself is a lie, and the history of words is not the history of thought.

The Organizer postulated that groups require us to find ways to be unique without deviating from the group norm, finding something just a little special that we can be proud of, which calls attention, but doesn't create a gulf between us and the others in our circle.

The Doctor lamented that in the past knowledge came from books and required effort to access, even when the book itself was in hand.  Now we are bombarded with information, in a situation that creates a perversion of knowledge and experience.  Being shallow, he said in this turn, can actually help us to focus on tangible experience and not be distracted by philosophical doubt or confusion.

The Organizer responded, to several, that shallowness is required to maintain only short-term relationships, without any interest in the long-term; the lack of interest in what makes another person tick is what differentiates a long-term/deep relationship from a short-term/shallow one.  Later we might grumble and complain about our relationships blowing up or fading away, but really this was due to our not having reached a depth of understanding and knowledge of the other person, not any external or uncontrollable force.  He also mentioned that bucking trends lends a veneer of depth to a person, but those who do it without any real consideration of what they are rejecting and embracing are as shallow as any desperate trend follower; I believe the general term for these people today is "hipster".  Knee-jerk reactions, even if they are shocking to the mainstream, cannot really be deep.

A fairly Regular Attendee but Rare Contributor gave her conclusion that shallowness is really a survival strategy, and a successful one at that.  The only problem really, is that sometimes people do not give us the reactions we expect, through differing customs or cultures, not to mention problems stemming from hearing deficiencies, anxiety, or serious mental illness, to mention only a few.  The Age of Information we enjoy today is actually creating an Age of Shallowness, in her opinion.  Because we simply cannot absorb all the information available to us in a way that allows us a deep understanding of all the subjects the information pertains to.  In order to be considered cultured or educated, we receive pressure to have broad knowledge rather than deep.

The Origin ended the discussion by saying that the unawareness of shallowness and the recognition of shallowness are almost two different things.  Being unaware is a true state of shallowness, while the recognition and continued use of shallowness is a conscious, somewhat manipulative decision, normally for selfish ends.  "True" shallowness can be excused as the human condition, while that aware and even contrived shallowness is pure opportunism, seeking to prey on others while walking away as nonchalantly as possible.

tiny differences

Jopen's RPA has a colorful, happy label, and was the first RPA I remember seeing.  Always gotta try new things!  It has a little bit of a sour smell, reminding me of many Belgian beers, and comes out looking herbal.  Deep tan and a slightly dirty looking head.  The taste is just like an IPA, except for some high note that hits the palate and lingers.  Maybe influenced by the color, I keep thinking of grasses or health juices.  Very satisfying flavor, probably more like Flipa than anything else.  For me, it provoked a craving for something savory and spicy, so a little chorizo was a nice makeshift tapa tonight.

Chorizo not shown, sorry

the tale with a stone continues

At the very edge of town, if one goes on the road to the Mountains of Knives, an old woman who was once a smith had her hut.  Although her trade had been with metals, she was known to be familiar with stones as well, and parted with her knowledge fairly for those who were on her good side.  Generally, the man was on everyone's good side, and the old smith was no exception.  He had more than once saved a few salt fish for her, even though she was never able to pay him more than a few copper coins when others, like Hidda's step-aunt surely, could  have given him more than five times that amount in silver.  But he liked how she muttered stories about past clients while she savored the pale flesh and she didn't mind him watching her eat.

She looked at him expectantly when she opened the door to his knock and he immediately apologized for bringing no fish.  "Oh, no matter, boy.  I know you've been doing me many favors by them," she said in her old woman's gravelly voice, but she hadn't been able to hide the disappointment in her eyes.  The young man promised himself that the first fish of the new year would be hers.  They went inside, to her long table under a dusty skylight.  Once, it had been ever full of chains and weapons and decorations, but now only a few broken broaches lay upon it.  The old smith held the stones up to the light and then under her round glass, mumbling to herself, "Good color, fine cut," and other things the young man was not sure he understood.  When she had finished her careful viewing she gave him also a look with a sharp eye, sharp even for an old smith.  "Where did you come by these, boy?  Not in the wood, of that I'm sure."

"They came from the pond.  I fished a small box with them inside," and the young man was astonished that he had not told her something closer to the truth.

"From the Salt Pond?  They are clear."

"Yes, I washed them to make them more beautiful."

The pause was almost painful.  Finally, the smith said, "They are good stones.  They could fetch you a fortune if you knew where to ask.  If you like, I will bargain for you, although my contacts are not what they once were, and I will take no reward from it except a promise: bring me the first salt fish of the year as along as I live.  It sounds like a great demand, I know, but tell me, boy, how many years can I have left?"

"Oh, many years surely, Aunt Smith."

"Now, now," she replied gruffly, "No flattery.  I'll speak with my contact tomorrow.  Come by in a few days.  Just leave me the skystone to show him, that one has the most impressive color, and keep the rest with you."  The young man hesitated, wondering if he should try to sell the stones himself, but he realized immediately that he had no idea how much they were worth, or how to even begin to bargain with them.  His past transactions had been with simple materials and with simple people.  Even if the old smith didn't bring him the highest price, it would be more than he could manage by himself.  He did as she said.

After leaving the smith's hut he rushed to the market, having just remembered his promise to meet Hidda.  He managed to get there just as she was leaving, face dark and eyes clouded, but the storm cleared immediately upon seeing him dash up to her, undoubtedly having come at great speed.  He explained he had found a chance of prosperity and could not pass it by, since she deserved the attention of one who could provide her with comfort as well as joy, and with blushing cheeks she forgave his lateness.  He promised to see her home every day after that, and that he did.

The next week he returned to the old smith's hut to find an old man dressed in grungy furs sitting at the table examining the skystone.  "Marvelous, simply marvelous," he was mumbling to himself.  The old smith cleared her throat and he turned to look at the young man.  "Are you the seller?" he asked in a raspy, whistley voice.  The young man nodded and held out the bag of stones.  The fur-man snatched it and dumped the contents on the table where they glittered coldly in the winter sunbeams stabbing down through the skylight.  He knelt so he was eye-level with them and his fingers drummed the table greedily.  Finally he straightened, grunting, joints popping, and pulled a bag of his own from under his furs and handed it to the old smith.  He swept the stones into their own little bag, which he stowed away in the furry darkness, then made a short bow and grasped the young man's hand in his own surprisingly warm and dry paw.  "A pleasure doing business, son," he practically hooted and he hobbled out the door like a lame goose hurrying to the feed trough.

The old smith handed the bag to the young man and he was amazed at its weight.  He set it on the table and upon opening it was shocked at the glittering gold within.  He had never even seen a gold coin before, and now he had a bag full of them.  He didn't even dare take one out, but just grazed them with his fingertips, running over the Duchess' own seal.  "I'd hoped to get a little more out of the old weasel," said the smith, "But you saw how he was dressed.  His glory days are long passed too, even though he'll make good use of those stones you found."

"It's more than I ever dreamed of," whispered the young man.

"Just remember your promise," said the smith kindly, gently moving him towards the door.

"Of course, the first fish, the first cow's weight of fish," replied the young man, his eyes shining brighter than the stones he'd sold or the coins he'd received.

That night his little house was bursting with laughter as he tried on fine new clothes.  He wasn't laughing, it was the voice, and it wasn't unkind laughter, it was just wild and loud, while wolf toes clackety-clacked on the old floor boards.

The townsfolk stopped and stared as he strode through the streets on his way to Hidda's step-aunt's house.  He rapped on the heavy, stained wood door with confidence and didn't wait to be asked in when it opened.  The servant girl didn't seem to mind.  "I'll fetch the lady," she mumbled and scurried off.  After only a few minutes wait, Aunt Demeter appeared.  Her cheeks were red and her eyes were black and her hair was all smoke.  She stopped in front of the young man and stared hard at his face.

"Yes, you're that little errand boy from the woods," she said, and without even shouting her voice reached every nook and cranny of the room.  "I see you've made yourself good.  I can't imagine how.  Do you think I'll believe you're a fairytale prince that has lived in poverty just to prove his pureness of heart?"

"Not at all, good lady.  I am a simple man of the wood and no stranger to toil.  I have come by my wealth only by luck."

"But by your toil you mean to keep it?  Luck is not constant, young man.  The prizes of chance easily come and go.  My step-neice thinks a great deal of you, for reasons I cannot fathom.  You may convince me of your worth this night at dinner.  Be here when the mayor's bell rings six."  Then Aunt Demeter turned abruptly and strode away.

The young man began his serious courtship of Hidda that night, to Aunt Demeter's mild disgust.  The two young people, of course, got along gloriously, and the young man was as thrifty as he could possibly be with the gold coins, so that the months of courtship demanded by good manners did not lighten the bag by much.The voice appeared only seldom, but each time more agitated that the young man was not following its new advice.

"You'll have a family soon!" it barked finally, "Start feathering your nest to care for them properly, you donkey!"

The young man was too much in his own head, dreaming of the near future, to take notice of the insult.  Finally their vow-day arrived and the couple was married in front of Aunt Demeter's house.  She attended the ceremony, of course, and had paid for the feast, but she never once hinted at feeling any joy at her step-niece's fortune.  The young man had decided to remain in the woods, although his little house would need additions, and dedicate himself to harvesting wood more than odd-jobs.  Although Hidda had spent several seasons in her step-aunt's fine town house, she was from a humble family in a small farming settlement not far off.  She had no complaints about the plan and no trouble making herself at home from the beginning of their life together.

Dogmatism

The subject is one of those words that exist in English, but almost never gets used by native speakers.  That in itself is interesting to me, and is just a little bit part of the topic, since I am sometimes dogmatic about use of language in terms of grammar and, especially, vocabulary.

We began discussion with the doubt about the difference between dogma and dogmatism, which rolled around for a bit before reaching the fuzzy conclusion that dogma is merely the belief system while dogmatism is the attitude that promotes it.  The Sometime Visitor defined dogmatism as the condition of being unable to change an opinion despite having evidence that the opinion is incorrect.  He later brought in Freud, saying that dogmatism is a type of hysteria, an irrational reaction to the world.  Even history can be dogmatic, since its interpretation is really quite subjective and dependent on present circumstances.  The Visitor's firm opinion is that interpretations of history are to satisfy some instinct for patriotism; I might revise patriotism to sense of belonging, since history is used as an excuse to reject subcultures or even the mainstream of a nation besides other national/ethnic groups.  Our Thinker said that dogma is closely associated with religion, while dogmatism is easily identified in other spheres.  Restating a bit what the Visitor had said, dogmatism implies being closed to criticism or even any analysis.  It also means presenting a dogma as a universal truth, when any dogma is by nature subjective.

The use of "dogma" and "dogmatic" in my experience is generally negative, and apart from any religious context.  I personally do not frequent religious realms, quite the opposite in fact, and the very connection dogma has to religion is what makes it something of an insult.  When talking of science, we assume that evidence is paramount in forming opinions, but not all evidence is equally convincing to all for a number of reasons.  When somebody refuses to accept our evidence, or accepts evidence we find suspect, we might call that person's opinion "dogma", implying that they are not thinking critically and are probably mistaken.

Our Respected Organizer continued the theme of lack of examination being the key ingredient of dogmatism, and also reminded us that dogmas are not necessarily wrong.  All we need to have dogma is the aura of unquestionability, whether there was a rational reason for the belief or not.  He insisted on the need for protection from excesses of belief to end this contribution.

The Source of the topic gave a detailed analysis of the source of dogmatism, saying there needs to be a certain type of situation for a person to give up common sense for a dogmatic attitude.  Two factors should be present in the person: ignorance and fear.  It is also likely that a charismatic leader is the source of the belief that becomes a dogma in the person's mind, although I think that is not the case 100% of the time.  If dogmatism means rejection of common sense, why would people promote it?  The Source had an answer - it's just business.  There is big business behind many dogmatic beliefs, both religious and otherwise, and a number of people have livelihoods that depend on the acceptance of fantastic or irrational ideas by others.  The Source ventured that the irrationality of dogma and dogmatism might point to a mental disorder, and if that is the case, it might be something that can be treated like any other condition.

The Expert in Medicine did not venture into that arena, but instead focused on the power dogmatism has over the people exposed to it.  The attitude exists for the purpose of "taming" people, keeping them under control and malleable to the will of the powerful, who control the spread and content of the information used to prop up dogmatic ideas.  He also highlighted his skepticism, saying he does not believe anything because everything is transmitted with words.

After some contributions reiterating the lack of analysis allowed in dogmas, the Organizer returned to the imposition implicit in dogmatism.  The key is that it comes from a position of authority, from the powerful, and is laid upon the less powerful.  The beliefs in the dogma may be true, but they are not allowed to be proven or examined in any way; they are to be accepted without any doubt or question.  He then reminded us that this acquiescence to authority can easily lead to disaster, to the perpetration of crimes or other forms of injustice.

The Expert lamented that the non-existence of truth causes philosophers to lie to themselves, since they search for something that is not there to be found.  He also warned us that words are dangerous when read by "deficient" minds.  The Thinker disagreed, saying that there are many types of philosophy and most "true" philosophers work from the knowledge that they do not know the truth and may not be able to know it.  He also introduced Willard Van Orman Quine to the discussion, and his work on dogma in philosophy, leaving us with the idea that only statements within our range of experience are meaningful although a statement itself might make sense.

The Source closed our discussion wondering if the vast amount of available information today can be a protection against dogmatism, since the more information one is exposed to, the more one begins to doubt what one knows.  Assuming everyone has access to information and takes advantage of it, this is something to consider.  However, it appears more likely to me that both limited access and limited interest will support dogmas and dogmatic authority for the foreseeable future.

drink of wisdom

Whooo wants a drink?

 Something about those owl eyes make the bottle beg to be picked up.  La Quince makes a fine IPA in the style of many Spanish ales these days.  It comes out with a dark, dirty honey color, crowned with a thin but resistant head.  The odor of IPA fills the air as it's poured.  The taste is a rounded, grassy bitterness with the lightest hint of sweetness in the first taste.  It goes down cleanly without any weird aftertaste or lingering sourness.  Wonderfully thirst-quenching with a touch of citrus in it, it's great with something salty like potato chips or pretzels.