the weather came too

The bold announcement of Marmalade On Rye couldn't be ignored.  At first I thought it was a fruit beer, Belgian or Scandinavian, but no.  It's from Tempest Brewing, a Scottish brewer that I've come across before, just recently.  It wasn't unimpressive, so why not give this one a go?  An IPA is almost never a bad choice.

Can't have disrespected beer

The beer pours out dark orange, with the head kind of off-white.  There's a definite sweet smell wafting off it, although I don't think marmalade would be my first guess as to its origin.  It reminds me more of typical craft IPAs, with that citrusy sweet they often have.  The taste is different, though.  While the bitterness is there, it's wrapped up in something mellower but not quite sweet.  It could be the orange zest and ginger duking it out.  Maybe a little lighthearted for a foggy, drizzly night, but a definite pick-me-up for steamier evenings.

Supplier: The Beer Garden
Price: €4.50

a tale of remembering

Who hides in the wood, little children?  Tell me, that I know you know the danger.  He who plots, who spies, and moans.  Oh yes, that he, little children.  He who would steal you from your mothers' hearths and drag you to his own, dark and cold it is.  He seeks to warm himself with you, little children, with the fire of your lives.  Yet he is not warmed by any stolen flame, as nothing stolen can warm anyone's heart.  Learn your lesson from him, children, only what you earn can stoke your soul's fire.  He who earns nothing is forever cold and empty.  He who hides seeks forever to fill himself, and this is why you must be 'ware in the wood.  Long has it been since he had some little one to give to his hunger, long has it been since children of this village went astray.  And so, his hunger must grow.  Take more care than ever.

You there, yes.  In the back.  Near the window.  Do you laugh at my fair warning?  Do you take me for a mere teller of tales?  Do not be so smug, young one, do not think we give warning for fun.  Here, I will tell you a new tale.  I have kept it safe within me for many years.  But I see it needs telling now.

It happened one day when the sun was a bright one and all the leaves were a blessing.  Three children much like you went into the wood seeking relief.  They did not mean to stray far from its borders, but in those days the hunger of he who hides was lesser and the shadows brighter.  The children went deep, deep among the old, old trees before they knew it.  When they saw the trunks were mossy like they'd never seen before, and the leaves were thin and sharp, not like their familiar broad platters, they did not fear.  They were brave children of the village, the last one on the road to the border of the Land of Smoke.  Little in this world can make us tremble.  They did not think the journey back would be hard to make, and if they arrived after nightfall, so much the better.  They had taken shelter in the shade of these trees for the very purpose of escaping the sun.  They listened hard for water and then the tallest said, "I hear a stream, over this way!" and they tramped through the ferns and vines to find the cool water.  It was there, flowing over smooth, blue rocks, looking deeper than it was without the sun to glimmer on its surface.  The children wet their toes and each others' shirts, shouting and laughing as they would on any summer's day in any place.

But soon they were hungry, as children in summer often are.  Their thirst they could slake in the stream in icy mouthfuls, but there were no berry bushes growing nearby.  They did not know the plants around them and were not trusting to taste their leaves or roots.  The first bite of fear came to their throats.  The children tried to walk back the way they had come, but all the trees were the same soft, green trunks, and all the ferns were the same clownish feathers, and all the vines made the same loops like snares on the ground to catch them.

The children wandered, growing frightened, and soon the ruddiest said, "We shouldn't have gone to the stream, we should have gone home right away!  I bet I could have found the way out from where we were."  The tallest child did not care to take the blame.  The fairest child said nothing to or for the other two as they argued.  They kept walking, even as they shouted, but they saw no sign of familiar trees.  The ferns and vines were lush and green and bent under their feet, making no snaps as they did not break.  A sudden snap behind them halted the children in their tracks.

When they turned, a white deer stood before them.  She was a young doe, as they knew from her small, nubby antlers.  She stared and they stared and nobody would move for minutes, but then she stepped to her left, eyes on the children, and she crept passed to go on her way.  The children followed her, still making no noise and neither did the doe.  Except when some dry vine snapped under her tiny hooves.  Then she shook her head in frustration, but kept on, and the children behind her.

Finally, a dark mound appeared amid the trees.  It was like a round hill with no trees growing on it, covered with short grass or thick moss.  The doe trotted right up to it, bounded up the side and over the top, and was gone.  The children stood before the mound awhile, wondering if they should go closer.  Finally the fairest one approached with halting steps, calling back to the others when the distance was closed, "Why, there's a cave in the hill!"  The other two came to the entrance to peer inside.  They saw that under the moss, there was no hill at all, but a pile of stone slabs.  They stood looking and did not go in.  They did not remember the warnings their elders told them at the hearth, but they felt the danger all the same.

"I wouldn't go in if I were you," and the children whirled around as one.  "That place is so old it could fall in any time."  A little old man covered in shaggy dark rags was speaking to them. "We were just looking, Old Uncle," said the ruddiest, "We were not thinking of exploring."  "That's good, eh, that's good," the little man grunted and turned and hobbled off.  After a moment he called over his shoulder, "What are you waiting for?  'Twill soon be dark as a dead deer's bottom out here."  And the children followed him without another thought.

The wood was in fact darkening and the leaves of the ferns stood out like shadowy spears.  The little man lead the children to a small clearing where the earth was bare.  He sat with his back to one great tree and with his hand invited the children to sit before him.  "I am going to tell you a tale," he said, as he pulled a sack of bread heels from amid his rags.  The children were happy for the bread, even if it was dry, and they were prepared to listen.  "I am not the man you see here," his voice rang out clearly, "I have taken this form to escape a terrible fate.  I am a magician, a real one, you can believe it.  But our needs of life come with a price, so too my magic."  He looked at the ground and sighed, "I have been lucky thus far, and my benefactor, or malefactor, has not thought to seek me here."  The ruddier child piped up, "My uncle says the trees are magic too.  Maybe they are protecting you."  The old man looked up at the branches, almost impossible to see in the darkening.  "That may be, child, but if it is so, they may have their own purposes for it."  It was now dark.  The old man pulled a round glass from his rags and laid it carefully in the dirt.  He snapped his fingers on both hands and light fairly exploded from the object, leaving the old man and the children in a little circle like daylight.  The three children clapped and cried, "It is real magic!"  Although bare dirt, the ground was comfortable enough for sitting, and the little group amused each other with jokes and tales and so on into the night.  It was like a friendly game for the children, one they sometimes played at when they stayed out with other friends in more familiar woods, imagining themselves traders or hunters.  They had no fear and they fell asleep.

Until the moment came that they awoke.  At first it seemed that nothing had changed; the wood was dark and the glass was bright and the old man was still sitting in front of the tree, but now his expression was grave and stony.  "How do you manage it, Math?" a voice rolled out from behind them, "Wherever you go, the little ones find you.  This is not a trick I taught you.  The Red One perhaps?  Or cuddly old Drusa?"  The old man sighed with impatience.  "Nothing can be chance with you, can it?"  "Not with me nor with any.  There is always a choice made and a path taken."  The old man looked away with a snort of disgust.  Rustling was heard from the dark and from the left, as the children looked at the man, a bright eye appeared among the trees.  Long teeth glowed faintly underneath it, but reflecting the glass's light while the eye shown of its own power.  "Well, little children.  I am pleased to meet you.  I trust you have heard of me, your dear old Uncle Vulk.  If you have come all this way, you must have a great wish for adventure.  Nobody adventures like I do, the magician will tell you," and the wolf began to step into the circle of light.  As he did, his gray fur rippled and fizzled.  His yellow eyes flamed red and orange as he blinked.  His teeth grew and shrunk and the spittle dripping from his long, red tongue hissed into steam.  "It's a good trick, Math,' he rasped, "but not good enough."  "I know," said the old man quietly.  He stood up and brushed himself off, rags and white hair falling away to show a slender man in old-fashioned but well-kept clothes.  His hair lay neatly on his head like a dark gray rug.  "Run away, children," he said calmly, "Trust in the trees."  The wolf barked with laughter and the children ran into the dark.  Soon each one was alone and racing through ferns grown prickly in the night.

The ruddiest child ran out of the trees and into the familiar lands around the village, and the morning light was relieved.  Three families waited by the main road under the sun.  One left with joy that morning; two left with tears under the moon.

He who hides in the woods may take the tall, the easier for him to jump upon.  He may take the fast, the more fun for his games.  The red-faced may be safe for a time, too untidy for his taste.  But once you have looked into his burning eyes your soul burns too and calls him.  Someday, little children, I may go back to the wood.  I may go to meet Uncle and my old friends, and we will be off all together and always.

Anti-Social Behavior

I did not even want to discuss this topic, but the list of choices was looking anorexic, so I threw it on to fill it out a bit.  Rather to my surprise, a bunch of dumbasses voted for it.  What a bunch of maroons!  Now, would those comments be considered anti-social?  Let us consider.  Like many psychological and behavior terms, there are two uses for anti-social: the clinical; and the colloquial.  Colloquially, an anti-social person does not want to participate in social activity out of disinterest, shyness or distraction.  Clinically, an anti-social person does not only not participate, but attacks society.  This is true of almost all "antis".  The anti-war protester shouts, marches, and perhaps vandalizes a few recruiting centers.  The anti-choice advocate screams at women trying to get health care, bombarding them with gruesome images, and on occasions even going so far as to threaten health care providers.  The anti-communist demands blacklists and witch hunts.  This aggression leaves the anti-violence adherent in an interesting position.  So, when one is clinically anti-social, there must be an attack on society, or at least some social mores.  There may be a long-term agenda behind it, or it may be a form of vandalism, but it is always an attempt to alter society in a fundamental way.  Anti-social individuals exist, although they may have little influence.  On the other hand, some groups mat get labeled anti-social when they are trying to create a change that they perceive as for the better; still, under this broad definition, they are working to modify society in a way that may affect every member in it, usually with a requisite change in social values.  In that way, they are technically anti-social, or at least anti-current-society.  I find the topic to be one of more psychological root than philosophical.  We did, however, attempt to make meaningful connections in the discussion.

The Leader had little to say previously, but in the meeting did say that the question of intent is the real philosophical question to deal with.  While we agreed that anti-social behavior is an attack on social norms, the Leader was adamant that the motivation be more petty and distinguishable from mere illegal activity, thereby protecting protesters for better values from being lumped in.  Even acting in a violent way might be a reaction to violence committed previously, and even justified.  He questioned our education in etiquette, saying that people have to be taught to behave properly, we do not simply acquire manners in a vacuum.

The Actress shared a memory of her parents refusing to open their door when visitors appeared, saying that it might be considered anti-social to pretend one is not at home just because a visitor is not expected.  However, she had come to think that they might have had some justification after living through a war, and were living through their trauma still.  Vandalism was brought up as an example of anti-social behavior with few real consequences, and she wondered if the great privileges some enjoy could not be considered social vandalism.

A Returning Participant gave the example of graffiti as a lack of respect for others and a mild attack on the social idea of private property.  She also mentioned squatters as examples of anti-social behavior, but like the Leader, admitted that they might be justified in their actions when the general situation does not allow them any other recourse.  She also admitted the possibility of positive actions being considered anti-social, if they are not in the interests of the powerful.  The taking over of empty lots for gardens and public use might miff the higher-ups, but who could deny that these are actions with good intentions behind them?  She agreed that education was the key to promoting pro-social behavior, and wondered why governments were not very interested in establishing programs to disseminate it.  Authorities could also take an active role in keeping society fluid by constant mixing, preventing the solidification into strata that treat each other with disdain, mistrust and fear.

can't stop it

Why is it so warm  now?  It's only January!  At least I know what will calm my nerves, a nice flavorful beer.  Lightly chilled, direct from the beer store, I have Imparable IPA.  The label is politely printed in Basque, Spanish and English, with variations on the order.

Well, I almost learned a new word

It's definitely a proud and optimistic label, looking practically like a superhero's chest.

Totally

The bitter citrus smell of craft IPAs is quite strong when you first start pouring.  The beer itself is a clear, dirty gold, with an angelically white head.  The bitter definitely has the upper hand in the flavor, but there is a little orangey sweet hiding in the background.  Although it goes down well, a little bitter does tend to hang on in your mouth.  It's a fine beer to perk you up, especially when the evening is warmer than one might think proper for the time of year.

I wonder if anybody will be angry that I label this a Spanish beer?

Supplier: The Beer Garden
Price: €4.50

Intefacing With Technology

There seems to be a sort of love/hate relationship going on between humans and their technology.  I use the possessive because technology is clearly a human invention, something created by us and not anything that magically appears out of nowhere that we just pick up and use.  We always fear the affect of making us less human, and that is reflected in literature and film.  We wax nostalgic for "the good old days" when we lived more "naturally" and "in tune with nature".  While it is understandable and reasonable to be suspicious of changes, especially ones we put in motion ourselves, we forget that our nostalgia is removed from the realities of the past.  Much like anti-vaxxers insisting on the benefits of "natural immunization" and refusing to accept the facts of spectacular infant death rates in the past, people cling to the idea that modern technology separates us from others and insulates us from society, rather than helping us navigate it more efficiently.  But let us first specify what is meant by "technology".  We often seem to limit the definition to Information Technology, and occasionally include medical machines, but really technology is any tool that helps us do things better, whether faster, more efficiently, or at all, as in the case of airplanes.  True, the ultimate purpose of the airplane is to travel from one place to another, which we have always done by other means, but not by leaving the ground and traveling at astounding speeds.  Even our clothing can be considered technology.  How do we maintain comfortable body temperature?  How do we protect ourselves from the elements?  How can we show our allegiance to various groups at a glance?  Articles of clothing can serve these purposes, and we create ways of producing them as well as new materials for them to those ends, among others.  Perhaps the best way to interact with technology is to forget that it is such an alien and frightening thing as "technology" to begin with.

The Actress recalled hearing predictions about great changes in communication before the turn of the millennium, saying that at the time they seemed crazy.  Today, almost everything predicted has come to pass.  She took a critical stance on modern technology and our relationship to it, focusing on the frustrations it provokes.  For example, she once saw a man toss his computer out the window while she was walking down a London street.  Although she was not aware of the exact circumstances that lead to this action, we can suppose that simple difficulties with the technology are to blame, as we ourselves have certainly suffered similar situations.  The Actress also criticized the  laziness modern technology can appear to promote, as watching television relaxes the brain, while reading makes it work (according to some studies) and emails are sloppily pounded out, whereas writing a letter required more attention.  She was also suspicious of emails as being easy to fake, while a letter had a clear writer and sender, in her view.  The connectivity of email providers also puts our privacy at risk, not only under "legitimate"government surveillance for security, but under anyone who decides they want to poke into somebody else's life.

The Leader put a lot of energy into the topic, having been a victim of technological troubles himself.  He emphasized that we are completely dependent on technology for our survival.  It is an extension of ourselves even as it can be physically separate.  Not only physical tools are technology, but abstractions like language can be considered as such, in that it is a way of making our lives better.  It is also a method of discrimination, like other sets of knowledge; being unknowledgeable about certain technologies condemns us to a lower standard of living, just as not speaking certain languages leads to exclusion.  Technology both drives and is driven by evolution, as we have to keep adapting to what we have and improvements and new ideas are presented, under the guise of making our lives better, but often with the real purpose of improving profit margins.  We still maintain some separation from our tools, but also romantically think of them as being "perfect" and much more reliable than people.  When things go wrong, we attribute it to "human error" as often as possible.  The Leader reminded us that appliances and electronics used to come with manuals and instruction booklets.  Today we have to search for guidance on the internet, since everyone is expected to have access to it, and the Leader was also of the opinion that the technology itself was supposed to be intuitive and not need so much self-training.  We might think children have a natural ability to use new technology, but for the most part it is merely the fact that they have access to it at an early age when we are most focused on learning life skills.  The Leader lamented that basic interfacing is not taught specifically in schools, at least as a matter of course.  He also pointed out a misunderstanding about our access to knowledge: we can find out information quickly, faster than ever before, but it is merely abstract information, not knowledge or know-how.  It is the latter that truly allows us to live well.  We learn to evaluate the information, or at least we should, and decide which Google result is the most appropriate to use.  As for the surveillance, while we might be uneasy about our lack of privacy, we can also rest assured that the very government that collects information is easily hacked and actively leaked through those same means.  Interfacing with technology is getting into the spirit of our age, and using its language.  We are encouraged to improve and grow.  Technology that works as it should is never a problem, rather when it does not work.

An On-and-Off Participant gave an example of attempting to idiot proof technology, even a very old one that we should be familiar with by now.  This example was the instruction to wear new canvas boots on feet.  While it is true that we are overguided in our using technology, this is less a function of our incompetence with it and more that of the social willingness to make others responsible for our mistakes.  He was not convinced by the title, thinking "coming to terms" spoke more to how we feel about modern technology.  In his opinion we are not coming to terms with modern technology, we are falling more and more into a trap of giving away information and losing our individuality.  This Participant also was troubled by the amount of surveillance the authorities are capable to doing on individuals, in fact he quipped that we are anonymous to ourselves, while our governments know everything.

Another Sometime Visitor remarked that the annoyances of past technologies, such as spam mail, have not stopped or been reduced by new technologies.  If our problems are human problems, mere technology will not solve them, this harkening back to the Leader's description of technology as an extension of ourselves.  The Visitor noted, somewhat darkly, that our social interactions have changed dramatically and forever.  Yet, we have achieved something people have been searching for ever since we realized our own mortality - even if the body dies, Facebook is forever, and our profiles with it.

crossovers

If anything promotes a beer, it's having people drink it all.  Founders Dirty Bastard, a Scotch ale, was on tap at a place I've been to before.  But, I had started a bit small and when I went for my big girl drink, they were out.  I was assured there would be another keg the next day, but the winds of chance have not blown me back.  So, in the import store's cooler it was sitting in the bottle and I had to snatch the opportunity.

Oh, doesn't everybody have a beer towel?

I think I detect  hint of whiskey in the smell, but it's probably just my imagination; the "Scotch" in the name is having an effect on my expectations.  It's a nice dark brown beer, beige-ish head, a bit bubbly.  The strongest flavor is bitter, but it's a rounded, mellow bitter, with some flashes of light sweetness at the edges.  In fact, I'd almost call it a candy bitter.  It maintains a nice, smooth, laid-back flavor, with a good balance of bitter and sweet that doesn't push one or the other too much.  It's a bit strong at 8.5%, although not the strongest beer you can find these days without looking too hard, but a good conversational beer that keeps words flowing without distracting the tongue.

I guess I'm going to have to make a trip, to see if the draft is as good as the bottle.  Probably better...it'll be just my luck if they're out again by the time I find a minute to go.

It would be just like him, too

Supplier: Taste of America
Price: €4.95

The Animal In Us

We humans like to think of ourselves as rational and critically thinking animals.  Actually, we usually do not like to think of ourselves as animals at all; the whole point of the expression is that we are something more than mere animals and any similarity is some left-over evolution has not yet eliminated.  The "animal" is the part of us that behaves without thinking, acting on instinct instead of planning out and considering consequences.  For some people, this is a handy excuse to do whatever they want without any risk of punishment, or at least serious punishment.  "I couldn't help it," they plead, "It was my animal instinct!"  They seek the safety of lack of responsibility.  We do not judge animals to be responsible for their actions; with very few exceptions, animals are not considered criminal and are not put on trial or expected to pay for what they do.  By giving in to the animal, a person is no longer in control of him/herself, and therefore not responsible.  However, things are not this simple, nor should they be.  For one thing, we do not just let animals that cause us harm or even mere bother to continue doing what they want or naturally do.  A dog that attacks a person is put down.  A bear that habitually wanders into town might be shot.  A fly gets swatted.  We do not put up with any trouble from other animals.  Other humans are given much more consideration, even when their actions are much more damaging and, moreover, intentional.  Even a serial murderer is not guaranteed treatment in kind, although it is not terribly unlikely.  By appealing to the animal, a person might try to get the best of both worlds, so to speak, in that we might accept the explanation of lack of control and also refrain from simply killing the person, probably because belonging to the human race gives us hope for better self-control in the future, besides our natural soft spot for those like us.  Being compared to an animal as a whole is generally considered insulting, although there are a number of exceptions.  At the same time, partial resemblance to animals can be considered a good thing in many cultures, as animals represent different strengths and weaknesses based on our observations of them.  People speak of totems or spirit animals.  However, these animals do not represent the whole person, but merely one aspect of the whole, or a goal to strive for in what they represent.  The animal in us becomes an ideal to emulate and to incorporate into the crazy quilt of our greater personalities.

The Source was typically spiritual in his explanation of the topic.  He had originally considered only the arrogance of believing ourselves to be "more" than animals, especially when those who insist so fiercely on this idea are often those who display the most "animalistic" behavior.  In this case, the Source was referring specifically to the habit of shouting down opponents that can be seen so often, for example in politicians.  The urge to fight against agreeing to disagree does not seem proper to him.  He felt that attempts to convince others of one's own rightness were displays of violence, cheating us out of discovering information for ourselves.  While there are undeniably abusive ways of trying to convince others to change their opinions, it is also true that some ideas are worth defending loudly and rudely, and allowing others to wallow in apathy and ignorance does nobody any favors.  To give an example, ideas about universal human rights and civil rights often need to be vigorously discussed, lest they be trampled by blithe privilege.

There were comments defending animals as well-behaved, even bordering on superhumanly wise, due to the lack of war, sport killing or other excesses in their behavior.  It is true that wild animals tend to be svelte, but a look at many domestic animals shows them overeating the same way their owners do.  One could argue that this is due to human influence, but it is more likely a simple outcome of the instinct all animals have to eat when food is available.  There was then discussion about the power we humans have to know that food will be available to us tomorrow, but others pointed out that many people are not in a position to know where their next meal is coming from.  We might have the mental capacity to plan, but not all of us live in societies that allow plans to come about undisturbed.

The Educator was almost impatient when speaking of the differences between humans and animals, or more precisely, the lack thereof.  She stated flatly that we are animals for better or worse, and no philosophical finagling would change that fact.  We are without a doubt the dominant species, being able to train others to do our bidding and enclosing them in zoos and circuses for our amusement.  Still, there are more similarities than some might be comfortable with.  We often speak of language as purely human, but animals also communicate, perhaps even with rudimentary languages based on sound.  Animals can create complex structures such as birds' nests and insect dwellings.  Some animals even farm their food; some ants cultivate fungi in their nests while others have herds of aphids to produce "milk" for them.  She also brought up the symbolic animals first in the meeting, mentioning their use in folk tales and fables.  Later on, she was reminded of the Chinese zodiac with its animal years.  Also, the idea that labeling people with animal terms removes their humanity troubled her, as we know what happens when groups of people are thought of as "dumb animals" and "subhuman".  Looking back over history, she wondered if slave owners were able to see their slaves as belonging to the same species as they.

The True Philosopher spent a little time turning the concept on its head, laying out the idea that we are actually worse than other animals because we have mental capacities that we use stupidly and selfishly.  What we label animal behavior is the most human thing we have.  Although he did blame us for our prideful destruction of our own environments and general cruelty, he took pains to emphasize that it is a "natural" outcome, what evolution has allowed us to develop.  The traits that have helped us survive as a species seem to come with the price of pride and arrogance.  He said, jokingly, that rather than evolution we have experienced "devolution", as we find ourselves more and more separate from nature and our roots, perhaps to our eventual detriment.

The Leader had written about the problem of dumping negative human behaviors into the animal category, and spoke also about the ever-present language problem.  We might say someone behaves "like an animal" but we are also aware of the intentionality of that person's behavior, something which we do not generally assign to animals, as previously mentioned.  We have overcome evolution, or perhaps been fooled by it, as we have the capacity to learn and adapt consciously, rather than waiting for the species as a whole to develop characteristics that promote survival.  In this, we seem to be different, and perhaps better suited for survival, than other animals.  He was not convinced by the argument of violence in the attempt to convince others proposed by the Source, saying there is a clear difference between politics and normal conversation.  He admitted that killing is a natural phenomenon, and unavoidable as practically every living thing must kill in order to survive; however, we humans can and perhaps should hold ourselves to a higher standard because we know we can find alternatives when basic survival is not at stake.  As science advances, it may be that we do not even have to kill to eat.  The bottom line is that we consider animals to act without reasoning, so any irrational behavior on the part of a human can be labeled "animal", even if the behavior taken by itself has nothing to do with any action any animal in its right mind would take.

new choices everywhere!

When I left the region I grew up in, there were not many small brewers or breweries, although some were already up and running.  Then, just a few years later, they were everywhere.  My own state has more than 50 craft breweries now, with more on the way.  We took many opportunities to sample over the holidays, both in bars and breweries and at home.

Starting off

At 8th Street Ale Haus in Sheboygan I had a nice porter, dark and fruity in flavor.  While good, not exactly unusual.  I was told to be on the lookout for Black Husky's Sproose Joose, an IPA made with an addition of actual spruce to give it a little kick.  The brewer uses his own trees, so those who worry about such things can be sure he knows where his ingredients come from.  At Sugar Maple in Milwaukee, they did not have Sproose Joose on tap, but the similar Sproose Double IPA.  "It's like chewing on a pine tree," said the bartender when asked for a description.  It's not quite that powerful, but the unusual taste is immediate and inescapable.  Fortunately, it doesn't get heavy on the way to the bottom of the glass, so those who are fine with the flavor at the start won't get overwhelmed as they drink down.

Lakefront Brewery, also in Milwaukee, has been around for some time, at least for a small brewery.  Tours come with free drinks, up to four if you limit yourself to the regular taps.  There's also the possibility of earning more if you're the participatory sort, so speak up during your visit.  I started with a New Grist ale with ginger, with was spicy, mildly sweet, and tasty.  It was also rather light, which makes it good to end with as well as begin.  The tour takes a beer break in the middle, where they had a special beer on tap.  Lakefront has each brewer make his own for limited time only distribution, and when we were there it was Todd's turn.  The My Turn beers are 2 tokens, but why not try something you'll probably never find again?  My Turn Todd is a dark beer, Belgian-style quadrupel in fact, bittersweet, a little heavy for me.  A good beer to have some salty snack with.  At the end of the tour, we were back in the beer hall, time for winding down with more.  I got the regular IPA, tasty, hoppy, like craft IPA typically is.  My final drink, to use up all our tokens, was a bottled offering, Bridge Burner.  Imperial amber ale, dark, somewhat sweet, but more on the bitter side of things.  It was stronger than I had expected too, but I have developed something of a tolerance over the years.

Now that's a tour guide

There's a certain benefit in having brewmakers in the family, which is having different beers available at most hours of the day.  Three Sheeps brewery has a hardworking man on their staff, always ready to suggest something to imbibe.  We had a few samples over the holidays, including some specialty products that are not available in stores, being something of experiments still.  Really Cool Waterslides IPA is sharp and wakeful, with the little rye snap in the background that gives it that little difference from regular IPAs.  Nitro stout Cashmere Hammer is creamy and smooth, without maltose or sweeteners we were told, but the taste could fool you.  Rum Barrel Ewephoria is rum barrel aged oatmeal stout, perhaps not the drink for everybody, but I would say it should have its moments.  Even some non-beer drinkers enjoyed this one.  It is on the sweet side, probably a bit heavy for some, with a sort of honey to it.  I found it a cake-like experience, and a winner in my book.  We also had "baby beer" to try, a brew made in honor of my nephew's making his appearance.  It is a powerful beer, about 15%, reminiscent of German dark beers with their fruity sweetness.  While we could connect the flavor with the sweetness of child-rearing, my personal tastes lean more towards Ewephoria.  The label on Hoedown!, a black ale reminded me of The Mayan, but was not quite as powerful in the spice department.  The cherry tartness is a little more noticeable than the chilis, but not so much that the darker character is diluted.  A fine evening beer.

I tried to avoid Big Beer out of principle, but they know the best way to keep their customer base high is to "invest" in smaller beers.  I ordered Lagunitas IPA and Breckenridge Vanilla Porter only to be informed they had both been acquired by AB InBev.  A shame for my principles.  They're still good beers; Lagunita is a fine IPA, everything you want and expect in look and taste, and Vanilla Porter is a desserty kind of drink, sweet in a puddinglike way, but with an unmistakable beer base.

Almost forgot this one

Romantic porter with lamb momos

In my own turf, there was more fun to be had.  While we did not stop at this local brewery, Great River supplies local diner Boozie's with drinkables.  A pale ale seemed right for lunch, especially with a Flaming Boozie Burger, and was indeed the thing.  Slightly appley and slightly bitter, a good contrast with jalapeños.  Big Grove Brewery in Solon is nondescript on the outside, but much homier and interesting inside.  I went for the Minuteman Double IPA, as the brewer is considered something of a specialist in that category, and it was perfectly nice, quite citrusy, a real mouthful without getting overpowering even at the end.  Later, Lion Bridge in Cedar Rapids had a more open environment and perhaps more inviting dark beers.  Unfortunately, the one that grabbed my attention most was out, so I tried

out the porters that were left.  I ended up with Workman's Compensation, the sweeter variety.  Both were a complex blend of smoky and fruity flavors, although  was heavier on the bitter.  Finally, Backpocket Brewing in Iowa City ended my mini-tour.  They have a particular brew, describing it as "a German, a Scot, and an Iowan walk into a bar..."  The Wooden Nickel peated bock does not look like it has much dirt in it, being a dark golden sort of bock, but the peat comes out clearly in the flavor.  It's a warming but energizing taste, memorable and interesting.  The addition of a sweet snack, like ice cream or brownie, brings out a sour flavor, but not in an unpleasant sense.  It works quite well, in my opinion.

Not in a mirror, Slingshot just happens to look like Wooden Nickel

If only, Brave New World

Workman's Comp left and Disaster on right

saint beatnick

That's the name of the beer.  There really isn't a much better title than that.  Definitely seasonal in name and label, although the actual beer could be enjoyed year round.  At least I could enjoy it, I know not everybody is a fan of stout in the summer, but I'll take a black beer anytime, anyplace, and be totally happy about it.  It is a chocolate stout, so at least we can connect it with Advent calendars, although we're done with those by now.  The brewery is Flying Monkeys, which might have some agreement with the shop since their beers are especially promoted and placed and their little ad posters are everywhere.  It's a Canadian beer, though.

What kind of cookies have they been leaving Santa?

I can smell the hearty chocolate as soon as I open the bottle.  There's a little stout bitter in there too, just to make it even more appetizing.  Deep brown color and beige head are perfect, as is the chocolate aroma from the full glass.  Very strong on the chocolate in the taste, a little syrupy for me at first.  There's kind of a stinging sour in the background of it too, but nothing too distracting.  While stout lovers might be disappointed in the low level of bitterness overall, it's a damn fine drink on a dark December, or January, night.

Yep, bottles caps.  That's where I get my advice

Supplier: La Buena Cerveza
Price:€3.44