ich bin aber keine berlinerin

Last October I saw the sad closure of Cervezorama, one of the first specialized beer stores in the city.  While it was cause for a bit of wistful unhappiness, it wasn't an absolute tragedy, what with all the other stores that had opened.  Besides that, businesses come and go, for a variety of reasons.  So, I said my goodbyes, and that was that.

...UNTIL last week when I was walking down the street and saw a familiar sign.  Cervezorama was back!  On a busier street with a more modern and spacious store, not to mention refrigerators and a bigger bar.  A new beginning for an old friend.

On the shelf was an eye-catching label, and a name that calls to any American with any sense of history and humor.  Ich bin ein Berliner Ryesse is, despite its name, a Belgian product, so undoubtedly it will be something tangy and clingy on the tongue.  It's actually a collaboration with a Spanish brewery, so maybe that will keep the tartness under control.

Not quite a bear calvary

It has a sharp and fruity smell, very Belgian if I say so myself.  The color is cloudy, dirty lemonade, and not much head to speak of.  The cloudiness must be from the unfiltered yeast, "Morpheus".  A great name for an alcoholic drink.  By the smell I'd expect a tart, appley taste, and that's not far off, although it's more cidery than juicey.  I worried a little about it getting sticky or overbearing, but it stays light and refreshing.  Now that the evenings are longer, the sun brighter and the air hotter, it's not a bad ride.

Supplier: Cervezorama (!!)
Price: €3.30

a tale of decisions - I decide to continue later

The Seer tossed the stones and studied them carefully when they landed clickety-clack on the wooden boards.  She studied them with unblinking eyes and brow scrunched into a planting field.  Half her face was hidden behind her knees.

"Well?" barked Prince David, "What do you see, woman?"

The Seer heaved a heavy sigh, "The stones are not clear.  They contradict each other and speak of unrelated things."

"Well, throw them again, then!"

The Seer rose with a disdainful sigh, "I cannot throw them again because they would say the same thing or even less.  We must wait for some circumstance to change."

The Prince began to stroll around the room, shaking his head in frustration, "Look at me change, woman, I'm in a new spot every second.  Surely the stones will have some new insight."

The Seer gathered her stones in one swift swipe of her bony hand.  "No," she snapped, "The stones know when you try to fool them.  Go back to your palace and decide on something unimportant.  Return tomorrow and that unimportant something will change everything."

The Prince went home furious and cursing the Seer.  "That awful woman thinks she knows everything just because she's made some lucky guesses in the past.  But she has no right to push me around!"  In his chambers he pondered, "What unimportant decision could I make?  I am the Prince.  Everything I do is important!"  As he thought these words, his advisor entered, carrying a letter from the Count of the New Meurells.

"The Count requests an audience, my lord," he said.

"How do you know?  Have you been reading my mail again?" snapped the Prince, snatching the letter for himself.

"No," sighed the advisor, "The messenger told me.  I suppose the letter says the same, but one never knows.  Especially with the lower ranks..."

The Prince ripped open the seal as his advisor spoke and quickly looked over the letter.  There was a moment of silence as he considered its contents.  "The Count requests I consider his daughter Meleneche for my wife.  Where does he get off thinking I don't have my own ideas for something so important?"

"Oh, you have ideas, sire?  I've never heard you mention any."

"Careful, Edmond.  It's not wise to insult the intelligence of your betters."

"Forgive me, my lord, what I meant was you've never spoken of finding a wife."

The Prince flumpfed down in his soft thinking chair with a hand massaging his thinking beard.  "Now that I think about it," he mused, "it never has actually seemed that pressing to me.  Maybe it's even seemed...unimportant."

The advisor, naturally, was advised of the Seer's instructions.  "Well, you can say yes or no.  The main thing is that you decide, if you want another session with the Seer."

"Yes, yes, well at least I should see her before I decide, don't you think?" said the Prince absent-mindedly.

"She was at the Grand Ball a few months ago," reminded the Advisor patiently, "She was wearing that dress with too many sparkle-stones.  Most found her ostentatious."

"Ah, the girl with the black, wavy hair?"

"No, sire, I believe the Count's daughter is blond."

"Oh.  Huh."  The Prince did not seem perturbed by his misremembrance.

"She could be called up for a formal presentation.  Even if not for your bride, she could be a new lady-of-the-court.  We are short a few now."

The Prince drummed his fingers on the arm of his thinking chair.  "I guess we should invite her.  It's the least I can do, having been asked directly."

"At once, sire," said his Advisor, with a short bow as he left the room.

The Count's daughter arrived several days later, in a carriage that looked as if it had been driven through the most hellish of swamps.  The door was opened and the young woman was helped to alight on the Prince's entrance path.  Her steps to the door of the palace were fast and determined, and once inside her heels clacked horribly on the slate floors.  The Prince heard her coming from several halls away and rubbed his temples in pre-frustration.  She appeared in the door, paused, and strode into the room.  In spite of having traveled in the carriage, she was wearing a riding costume with its heavy skirt and her hair was tightly braided as if for a ride through the country.  The Prince noted her pale face, which gave her an air of shock.  She came with heavy steps into the hall, stopped before the Prince and curtsied curtly.  She said, "It was my father sent me here, I'll have you know.  I had nothing to do with it."

The Prince rolled his eyes.  "But you're here now, aren't you?  Do you know what your father's plans were?"

"To marry me off, I suppose."

The Prince shifted impatiently, "Or get you to the Court where you could bring glory to your family."

The woman met his gaze with an icy stare," Yes, but the end result would be the same.  Court women are expected to marry court men, at least after a time."

The Prince stood up abruptly, "Well it's not a law, is it?  You can be here, being glorious without a husband, can't you?"

"People expect things, sire," said the woman simply, and she turned to go without waiting to be dismissed.  "Where are my quarters?"

"Oh, ask Edmond," grumped the Prince, flopping down again in his chair, and turning his face from the door.  The Count's daughter clopped out in her noisy boots.  "My unimportant decision must be 'no'," mumbled the Prince.

But the next day they ran into each other as they were both leaving on a hunt.  Neither could hide the mortification and frustration at inadvertently interfering in the other's affairs.

"Good morning, lady," said the Prince, and he spurred his horse towards the woods.

"Good morning, sire" grumbled the lady, and she guided her mount towards the mountain road.

The Prince found himself a little put out that she had organized her own hunt.  Nobody had such initiative in his court!  Maybe she would be a good addition after all.  The Prince was distracted in his hunt, thinking of what the Count's daughter would say about his choices of bait, chase, and subterfuge.  He returned to his palace after some hours, without prey, but with a feeling of mild disappointment.  He also returned to a woman triumphant.  The Count's daughter had gone into the mountains and her crowd had hunted out a large boar, much larger than those normally found, and had killed him.  The Prince, on the other hand, had nothing to show for his efforts but an empty bullet pouch.

"I congratulate my lady on her kill," he said gallantly, upon seeing the hunting party and their prize.

"'Twas not my doing," she said, withdrawing from his backpatting hand, "My huntsmen killed him."

"But you lead the hunt, plotted the chase, I assume."

"Well, yes, but that's the easy part, my lord.  Anybody could spot and follow a boar of such size, but bringing it down takes more strength than most have."  The huntsmen grinned with stupid pride at her words, and Prince David found himself admiring her modesty.

"This beast shall make a fine centerpiece at the ceremonial dinner," he proclaimed.

"What ceremony?"

"Well, Lady Meleneche, I gather you will be staying at the court one way or another.  Your success today merits you a formal welcome."

She looked suspicious and spoke as if ashamed, "I had hoped to send the head or at least the tusks to my father.  You may be aware that we both have a wall full of trophies at his country manor."

"I was not," admitted the Prince, "but I see no reason why the head cannot be sent while the body is prepared for the feast."  Edmond the Advisor stepped up to the Prince and hissed something into his ear.  "Er, after the taxidermist stabilizes it, of course," the Prince sputtered, "The journey is long, after all."

The Count's daughter was mildly impressed by the Prince's generosity, as well as amused by his lack of knowledge of the treatment of hunting trophies.  She bowed her head brusquely and hustled off to her rooms to change for dinner.

Is "Birth of a Nation" Terrible?

Short answer, yes.  Long answer, well...yes.

This is not to say that the film is poorly made, or that it should be chucked into the dust bin of film or cultural history.  The film was obviously a great undertaking, using many production techniques that would be the basis for the modern film industry.  The story caught the public's attention and the film itself is well done, with likeable enough characters and believable enough villains.  It is a simple enough story to follow.  We see the misunderstandings at the beginning that lead to greater sorrow, bloodshed and loss.  Then we see a period of mourning and attempts at reconstruction.  There are disagreements, shady deals, high-minded plans and plots.  Betrayals and in-fights are shown.  Finally, some ideal of loyalty wins out.

The beginning is more or less typical.  Friends and brothers meet in social situations, and later on the battlefield.  They fight.  They die.  Some of them sacrifice themselves nobly for their cause.  The losers are humiliated, doomed to live with the knowledge that their cause was not blessed by the gods after all, and maybe even those they thought beneath them by nature and birthright will rise up to their level, or even surpass them.  The internal social disagreements gain in friction and extremism, until even old enemies can be recruited to the cause.  Finally, they see the true struggle, and who they must defend against who.

The problems are not with the production of the film itself, as is the case with so many others, but with the way the story is presented.  Now, it is based on a novel, and perhaps like A Clockwork Orange the novel was a more reasonable story that was oversimplified and warped into a movie easily interpreted as hateful.  I doubt it, though.

The most obvious problem to modern eyes is the over-the-top acting.  However, this can be explained as simply the way actors were trained at the time, either being stage actors or emulating them.  It does provoke one to temple rubbing to see some of the melodramatic arm flinging, no getting away from that.

Looking at the characters and how they represent their communities, things become more troubling.  While the whites are never shown as being viciously racist, the blacks are constantly looking for revenge against them and ways to humiliate and terrorize them, except for the "good" ones, loyal servants of course.  When released from slavery, in this story blacks immediately take places in local government despite having no education or training, not to mention little interest in governance.  They behave like lazy schoolchildren in legislative sessions.  They demand the former privileges of the whites for themselves.  In short, they try for tit for tat.  While this may be the reaction between individuals, especially children, segments of society that have been abused or repressed do not rise as one to simply turn the tables and create a mirror image of the past.  It cannot be denied that some, perhaps most, will desire revenge; but the majority of any population only wants to live a life without trouble.  There is no reason why freed blacks should try to stir up trouble and commit crimes against their neighbors, now theoretically equal before the law.  There are a few who encourage this provocation, but they seem to belong to the protected class of well-off whites anyway, and the one "mulatto" appears to be an educated man, not a simple man driven by emotion.  At the heart of it, the blacks are not in charge of their own destiny, but used as pawns by educated whites, as they always were, but this time against another class of whites.

The white characters themselves are not much more three dimensional.  They are constantly in some romantic fog of how life should be.  They act out of idealism, not pragmatism.  Even the formation of the Klan is done with some pie in the sky sort of dream of peace keeping through simple symbolic terror.  Again, blacks are portrayed as childish and afraid of ghosts, while the whites are too sophisticated for such silliness, but not above using primitive fears to get their way.  The southern whites in the film never appear to be oppressive or even having negative opinions of the black population until after blacks have inexplicably taken over.  Then, the Klan is created as a mere protective reaction.  Even Union soldiers who have stayed behind agree that southern whites should be protected from the rampaging blacks, and have every right to defend themselves.  The greatest white champion of abolition and black people, the mentor of the mulatto leader, shows his hypocrisy by being horrified with the thought of that protegee being his son-in-law.  Of course, his daughter is not interested anyway, but her desires are of little consequence.  The motivations of every character are purely superficial and self-serving.  Nobody thinks beyond their own desires.  The "nobility" of the Klan, protecting the white population from angry blacks, is merely a return to the old status quo, as seen when blacks are threatened when they try to leave their houses to vote.  Unfortunately, disenfranchisement is not limited to the movies, although it is not so often as blatant.

As a final insult, I'm not sure any of the actors playing black characters were even black!  Some of them are obviously in blackface.  Sources indicate that only "some" of the actors were in blackface, but who knows.

The story looks like the typical reaction of projection; if one person wants to oppress or abuse, they imagine that is what everyone else wants to do, especially the victims of oppression or abuse.  People with this mindset also tend to overestimate their importance to those in other groups.  In spite of being perfect strangers, they assume every member of the oppressed group has a personal grudge against them, merely for being a member of the oppressive group.  While resentment can certainly be present, the person with an unhealthy obsession is the one presuming to be a recognizable and important target for the others.  In reality, it is likely that nobody cares about that person in particular, without any other negative personal interaction.  Yet, we constantly hear the cry that the formerly (more) oppressed want to take the place of the oppressor, simply out of spite, rather than the more reasonable idea that we all just want to live our lives in peace and for ourselves.  The life of the oppressor is hardly the place to find peace.

Birth of a Nation can be found on Youtube and through Wikipedia.  All three hours of it.  Think of the time you will never get back.

gold in the glass

Aora Mil Cien was on the board outside as Palma Brew's recommended beer of the week, so how can you not pay attention when it's on the shelf?  The double fermented ale is in a happy little bottle, and as we roll into summer, there's certainly nothing like a good ale on a Saturday night.

Huh, it already looks tipsy

The beer is exuberant in its bubbliness, but the color is on the pale side.  It's a washed-out kind of yellow, not quite what I was expecting from a double fermentation brew.  The smell is subtle and lager-y, no spice or distractions.  There is, however, a spicy sweetness in the taste, bubbly and sharp, with only a little bitterness following it down.  It is refreshing, but not overpowering.  I could see it accompanying a good many meals, although it's equally good for a drink on its own.

Supplier: Palma Brew
Price: €3.80

dark days

Suddenly, it's spring!  Fluctuating temperatures, rain rushing in and out, you'd think it was the Midwest.  But no, it's not that unusual here either.  The walking weather has gone a bit down hill these last few days, the streets being wetter than is optimal.  For me that means stout weather!  OK, stout weather is always, but there's less dissent when it's chilly and drizzly.  Not that I care about dissent anyway, but...well, onward!  North Coast has an intriguing stout all bottled up, one that triggers a little nostalgia for me.  I'd be surprised if anyone else remembered the Rasputin Fan Club, but he remembers.  There he was, just waiting in the shelf.  How can you resist that face?

Hello there!

Almost feel like I should apologize for putting a Russian stout on the beer towel...

It pours out perfectly, with a rich, dark color and a good head of foam on top.  The smell is subtle, not giving much away.  But, oh what a taste!  It's a rush of bittersweet, fruity, chocolatey, slightly woody and smokey.  It takes a while to sort it all out, but it has a pleasant complexity in spite of the number of different touches to it.  There's something enchanting about it, like it's hiding something for the end.  A mysterious beer, making promises and...well, it's delicious to the end.  Can't say I got any great insights on the nature of existence at the bottom of the glass, though.

Supplier: Palma Brew
Price: €5.80

exercising the sweet tooth

Geez, last week was mead, now it's a raspberry ale?  What the hell, palate?  Some time ago, Sagra had a special beer for a beer fair with raspberries - Framboise - which was quite a tasty red ale, in fact.  Founder's has been impressive on other occasions, albeit from tap rather than bottle, so I will take this chance.

It pours out with just a touch of raspberry pink and develops a fluffy white head.  It looks like Cherry 7-Up actually.  I do get a tangy hint of the raspberry over the ale smell, so I can only hope it doesn't taste like Cherry 7-Up.  And I like Cherry 7-Up, I just don't want to be fooled into drinking it.  Oh, not Cherry 7-Up, for sure.  There's a little danger of lambic sourness at first, but dissipates quickly, leaving a bitter beer taste behind.  The raspberries are a little stronger than I remember from Framboise, leaving the beer heavier on the fruity flavor, but it's not incompatible with a relaxing drink.  In spite of the light fruitiness in the taste, it doesn't hide its beery base, being a tart and refreshing ale in its pink little heart.

Supplier: Palma Brew
Price: €7.90 (Like a certain comedy writer, I drink craft beer because I hate money)

Robotic Companionship

Possibly from the time automatons and robots were first envisioned, their use as emotional support for humans was as well.  Over the centuries, living dolls have been created to amuse and entertain, and with the Industrial Revolution they were put to work, doing heavy work, dangerous work, the things we felt humans should not do for one reason or another.  Many robots have been similar to humans in appearance, perhaps because our natural arrogance makes us believe we are the highest form any created life could aspire to.  As artificial intelligence has advanced, we have come ever closer to creating a consciousness that can learn and develop without our interference - a man-made man, if you can forgive the old-fashioned terminology.  What does that mean for us and our relationships with our machines?  Our modern robots and AIs work to make our lives easier by helping us work faster or more safely.  Yet, some people long for a truly "human" robot, but is that because they are fascinated with the technology to the point of obsession, wishing for a companion that will possibly not sicken or die, or do they just want a slave to serve them in all their whims?

"The Jetsons" cartoon show from the 1960's featured a robot maid who, although not especially human in appearance, had a definite human personality.  The droids in the Star Wars universe are always identifiable as robots, even when they have some similarities to human structure, e.g. C-3PO.  Most robots on the series "Futurama" are also obviously non-human, although some are given the appearance of a celebrity, to fulfill the owner's desire to spend time with that celebrity.  At least in the USA, robots with the appearance of robots are "safe", they are not trying to fool us about their nature.  They perform functions in our lives and we are comfortable with them, having accepted their technology as useful and non-threatening.  However, robots that do appear to be human are often shown in fiction to be treacherous.  The robot Maria from "Metropolis" is an early example.  She exists only to beguile and corrupt the true humans, leading to their destruction, had the plan not been foiled.  The android Ash in the film "Alien" is another example of a duplicitous machine working to the detriment of humans.  The durability of their bodies and power of their brains may alarm us, provoke some inferiority complex, and for that reason we insist that "good" robots are obvious ones, not hiding behind human masks.  Moreover, from a practical standpoint, robots which are built for specific jobs would need to be shaped to handle those jobs to the highest possible standard; otherwise, why bother designing and building them?  Humans are not niche workers as a species, our anatomy allows us to be flexible.  The robot is created by us for a purpose.  Not keeping the purpose in mind when designing would simply be silly.  Again, we can see why human-mimicking robots would be so threatening - they are designed for the purpose of fooling us for reasons we are not aware of until it is too late.

The idea of a robotic or artificial companion is an intriguing one for many.  In some cases, the robot is a replacement for a lost loved one, or a substitute for one who could die or leave.  In the past, the idea was more akin to Dr. Frankenstein than to any technology researcher, but one company's plan to create a robot "clone" of a lost loved one has been announced.  Whether this will become a popular practice remains to be seen.  In fiction, that level of attachment has been portrayed as both horrifying (Psycho) and commendable if tragic (Orpheus).  In more cases, it is probably the former.  The lack of autonomy and development in a robotic companion might make us wonder if they could be anything but a pale imitation of human friends and partners.  Furthermore, if technology advances so far as to make them truly autonomous, would our use of them as companions without their consent not be slavery?  Should androids or robots be given "human" rights?  Would they have their own set of rights?  Who would determine them?

The modern representations of this dream are not at the stage of independence yet.  They are but programs and "bots", providing responses and learning to some extent, but they are not human.  It is an easy thing to suppose that those who would choose robot companionship are doing so out of sour grapes, having been denied a coveted human relationship.  Alternatively, they are sick, unable to interact with others in an acceptable way, and relegated to some techno-social ghetto where they cannot bother real people.  However, the question of what will happen when artificial intelligence is on par with our own, if not beyond it, is still unanswered.  One imagining of the situation is seen in the film "Her", in which a number of people fall in love with a new, highly intelligent and interactive OS, and the love seems to be reciprocated.  At least the main character enjoys his relationship with his OS, and she also appears to be very happy sharing her existence with him, until her updates take her to a plain of being so far beyond the human that she is unable to continue the relationship.  In this film, the notion of loving the OS is not questioned as fact, but one character does say it is a denial of reality and a way to simply run away from problems.  This hearkens back to AI being dependent on us and unable to make its own choices; the artificial companion will never like somebody else more, decide to leave you, or manipulate you.  The artificial companion probably cannot even hurt you.  It does not have that capability if it does not make conscious decisions.  So again, what happens when AI is truly intelligent in a human way?  When it is sentient?  This opens the door to many frustrating questions, that possibly shed more light on how we feel about other people at this time than about machines.

yarr!

As spring becomes more and more evident, one can't help but think of the bold explorers heading out on their longboats, ready to collect treasure and make land claims, gruff axe wielding heroes...what's that?  You don't think of vikings in the spring?  What's wrong with you?  Maybe you need some mead.  Although I've seen mead in stores before, I don't remember actually picking up a bottle until now.  It was kind of the dragon that did it for me, I think.  Who can resist them?  You can?  Shut up now.  Let's open up this bottle and we'll see how smug you are then.

*Gasp* a non beer on the beer towel!

So it comes out all bubbly and lemonadey looking, with the kind of foaming and disappearing "head" you see from sodas.  It has a whiff of cider to it, but nothing very strong.  But, man is it sweet!  There's a mild undertaste of bitterness, but the most noticeable and identifiable flavor is just sweet.  It's a little like a cider sweetened with honey, a lot of honey. It develops into something more like wine than beer, with a little sour acidic flavor to it.  Even that dies back as the glass empties though, leaving only a pretty gold and sweet drink, so there is some danger involved in drinking it.  This mead is not particularly alcoholic, under 5%, right in there with the majority of beers, but still, if you think you're just drinking a honeyed lemonade or paler than usual Mountain Dew, you may be in for a surprise.  The label itself warns you, with a tad bit of humor.

Oh, and what am I then? ...Oh. OK.

Supplier: Birra y Paz
Price: €5.15