It was Gaius Plinus Secundus, who was of the opinion the only people that would ever eat rye, were people that were starving. Gaius was an authority during the medieval period due to his extensive writings on his observations of the natural world. He is credited with over seven books during the first century AD (or CE if you are so inclined) on things such as grammar, Roman history, throwing the lance, and a biography of Pomponius Secundus. He is best known for Natural History from where the above opinion is written. He is known for his ability to string together previously unrelated concepts in a vernacular style easily interpreted by the masses, easily transcribed by medieval monasteries, and indeed can be considered one of the first to pen an encyclopedia.
Unfortunately many of those concepts had more to do with what we now call mysticism, and most of his assertions are to put it bluntly—wrong. Quite frankly Gaius may not have been as bright as he thought he was, given that he died while investigating the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius. Though in fairness, the Romans were probably unfamiliar with the dangers of erupting volcanoes. In all, he is probably better known by his anglicized name.
This is not my review of Russian River’s Pliny the Elder.
Why not? I can’t find it, and quite frankly I need a way better excuse to go to California—and possibly find it. Pliny probably did hate rye, so I will honor his memory by reviewing a rye pale ale.
Rye is a species of grass similar to wheat and barley except that it grows in colder climates. People first began eating rye bread around the Black and Caspian Seas, which is why it’s sometimes affiliated with Russian oligarchs. Interestingly enough, it is planted in the fall, where it survives through the winter and harvested in June. Rye is chewier, and has a more robust flavor than wheat or barley, and beverages made with it share this quality.
I don’t know about anyone else here, but I for one happen to like rye whiskey and rye bread; naturally I liked this as well. Others might just be happy this is not an IPA. Abita Bourbon Street Rye Pale Ale 4.1/5.
Hello boils and ghouls, it’s your old pal the Cryptkeeper here…no wait, that’s not my name. Sorry, sometimes I get caught up in the moment.
Though I gave up the regular movie review beat, I still thought I’d bang out an article like I did last year on our experiences at TFW. To celebrate, one of the below links will go to a hardcore porn site – the rest are safe. This is your NSFW warning. You’ll never know which one it is until you try. C’mon, don’t be a pussy.
This one will be a bit different in content, since many of you would have already read my post on this from last year, and thus are already familiar with the context. For those of you who are new to the site within the past year, or didn’t read my previous write-up, in brief, TFW is the southwest’s largest horror convention, and my wife & I spend the weekend there every year.
Like last year, I’ll have a few images in the text, but most all the photos will be at the bottom of the article. It’s mostly just pics of costumes & the stuff we bought, because almost all the celebrities this year charged extra for photos with them, and the few times I tried a creepshot, it came out terribly. The other photos are mostly terrible as well due to the fact that this is literally the only time of the year I ever take photos of anything, so please understand and forgive. The only ones I really regret it on are two cosplay photos of Tippi Hedren & Spawn, which were both good costumes but when I reviewed the pics afterward, you can barely see them due to bad backlighting. It was too crowded during the main hours to take shots, so I tried to snag a lot of them in the hotel lobby. Also as before, I had trouble formatting them into a row, so you’ll have to forgive me & simply scroll down the photos in a line at the end.
The guest lineup this year was fabulous. They had all of the original cenobites (minus the chick from the first film, because she never does any conventions, ever – so the guest in her place was the chick from the second movie, which was still a good horror film). To round that group out, we had a *very* special treat – Mr. Clive Barker. He doesn’t do a lot of these kinds of things, so we were overjoyed. In addition to his prolific painting and film work, if you haven’t read any of his fiction, I highly recommend it. His Books of Blood is one of my favorite collected works of short stories ever. If you dig fantasy/horror short fiction, check it out, seriously.
Also making appearances were Ron Perlman, Adrienne Barbeau, Billy Zane, Phil Fondacaro, Tommy Flanagan, Brad Dourif, Tom Savini, Matthew Lillard, all the kids from the new IT movie, Charles Band and a shit-load of people from the various Friday the 13th films. The Friday night party was themed Camp Crystal Lake, so they were heavy on those guests (as this is the 13th year of TFW). Since I’m honestly not crazy about that film series outside of the first two movies & a few creative kills, I didn’t much care about their presence. If you don’t recognize the names of anyone just listed, check the links – I promise you’ll recognize them or at least have heard of their work.
The weekend got started off right, with Adrienne Barbeau flying in Thurs. night to attend a screening of Escape from New York at the Texas Theater, and do a Q&A afterward. The print they used was fantastic, better than my dvd, and Adrienne was an engaging speaker. She said she has done so much voicework that she has frankly forgotten most of it, and only recalls that she took some particular job once every year when some check shows up for $0.96 and has “Judge Dredd” written on the memo line (she was uncredited as the voice of the computer in that film). She tossed that out as the example, but said she just gets checks for tiny amounts every day for random old things she did. I thought this must be a strange thing, to go to your mailbox every day and be like, “Huh, I got 8 checks in the mail totaling $5.72.”
So the next day the spousal unit & I took a half-day off of work & rolled into the convention in mid afternoon, though it doesn’t open until 6. On the plus side, in their fruit-infused water jug up front, the fruit was cut into the shape of skulls.
Skull-melons“White people are fucking weird”. Also, wood.Stupid
Also amusingly, the little cute Asian girls they have working there had to wear wound makeup and have silly horror accessories, like this photo of an attractive young lady with scissors sticking out of her head. I’ve often wondered what they think about that, because the racial breakdown of the con attendees is about 70% white, 25% hispanic, and the rest is miscellaneous. Like seriously, my wife is one of maybe 20 Asian people there actually attending, and I can always count the numbers of black folks on my fingers. I have no idea why that is, but it’s true. Less amusing was the eyeroll-inducing naming of the food on the menu. I mean come on, Trembling Turkey? Blood-Dripping Buffalo Wings? And what the fuck happened to the Southwest Shrimp Cocktail, didn’t warrant a new name because it’s already so awful?
The convention started off poorly – it was so fucking crowded that Friday night, I panicked. This thing frankly outgrew the convention space last year, and this year was worse. We try to do signature hunting on Fri. night & Sun., when it’s less crowded. Well we spent an hour in line for Clive Barker, only to be told that he was leaving to do his scheduled photo shoot & wouldn’t return to the signature line that night due to feeling poorly.
Yay
So the first hour was a waste, but it kind of worked out. If you recall last year, we purchased a crocheted Count Orlock. Well the same vendor was there and she had a big crocheted xenomorph, but only one of them. She told us it had been a right bitch to make, and she was never going to make another one, so we pounced on it. If we hadn’t been forced to do a little browsing on Friday evening, I’m certain someone else would have bought it & then I’d have had to have killed my wife and myself, and possibly my extended family as well.
5 of the 6 sides are now signed – four cenobites & Clive Barker
We did get the rest of the cenobites, Adrienne, and Billy Zane that night. A few anecdotes – the cenobites, despite being English and therefore you’d think reserved, will talk your ear off, even if you’re actively trying to exit the conversation. Nicholas Vince, who played Chatterer, was dressed in nice proper business-formal attire, except for some weird Pinhead Hello Kitty cufflinks, and to his delight my wife was the first to notice them that evening. Of course it’s because she’s fucking Asian, so she saw the Hello Kitty shit immediately somehow. Also, Barbie Wilde, the female cenobite, was selling her horror fiction books, and apparently is a very nasty-minded girl. Everything was a sexual innuendo or reference, and we all had a good laugh when, midway through our conversation, we could hear someone in another row (a worker, we believe, trying to repair something in a guest’s booth) said, “Damnit, I thought sitting in this chair would make it easier, but I think I was having more success on my knees.” Barbie, my wife and I all just looked at each other for a second before bursting out laughing. The photo you see is of the nice mahogany & etched brass puzzlebox we purchased to collect all their signatures on.
Also true fact: Billy Zane was just a leeeetle-bit of a dick. The best line in Zoolander pertains to him; “You should listen to your friend Billy Zane – he’s a cool dude”. Well we purposefully waited until there wasn’t anyone in his line, so that we wouldn’t be holding anybody up, and I asked him, “Hey, I know this is a bit unorthodox, but could you possibly sign this, ‘You should listen to me – I’m a cool dude’?” He smiled and kind of laughingly said, “Absolutely not”, then just stared at us. We thought he was joking for a second, because he said it kind of jovially, but then he said, “So…you just want me to make this out to the two of you or what?” So we said sure, and that was that. I mean hey, celebrities don’t owe me anything, I know that. But perhaps a, “Sorry man I don’t do personalizations to that extent” could be used instead of, “Hahaha NO”. Anyway he seemed nice enough in every other way, so maybe he’s just sick of that request. He was in a tracksuit & cowboy hat, and so looked kind of like a Russian gangster.
Phil Fondacaro’s line was short enough I was able to chat with him a bit. I asked him if it was just an outsider’s perception, or if there really were fewer opportunities for physically different actors like himself & Warwick Davis, with the advent of digital effects. He said absolutely, but it’s something of a mixed blessing because as he’s gotten older, and especially for someone who is physically limited to begin with, it’s a relief to not have to wear all the latex and costuming that he used to. A lot of the stuff that’s added in post now were the most cumbersome things to wear and act in, so the digital revolution isn’t all bad from his perspective. Of course the photo I got signed was of him as Vohnkar! And if you don’t get that reference, you’re no true child of the 80s.
Saturday was given to drinking, shopping, and making merry. It still sucked, because I had to wake my ass up at 7:30 to get in line for Clive Barker. Keep in mind the convention didn’t open until 11. So over three hours I sat there, but was 10th in line and so assured a chance to meet the great artist. Still, it left me a bit depleted for the remainder of the day.
We learned our lesson from previous years, and brought some beers, a bottle of bourbon (Larceny, which was very good for being as affordable as it was), and a bottle of Fireball. The hotel doesn’t care as long as you don’t get belligerently drunk – like David Arquette from a few years back. We were there and we saw bizarre things from a man still supposedly on the wagon. At least he drunkenly bought me a beer while we were both waiting at the bar. Anyway I attached a bunch of photos of all the shit we bought below, and some of the costumes we encountered.
That evening we spent a bit of time in the karaoke party, & went to a screening of Takashi Miike‘s live action adaptation of the manga, As the Gods Will. Now granted I wasn’t exactly sober, or anything even really resembling sober, by the time I saw this thing, but I still have no fucking clue what was going on. A weird doll was playing red-light, green-light with a class of students, and when it caught them moving their heads exploded, then the survivors went to their gym & dressed as mice and a giant maneki-neko was eating them, and it just got stranger from there. We finished out the night hanging out with all our friends on the patio, and there was a dude giving away free cigars for some reason, so that went well with the last of my bourbon (yes, the bottle was killed, with the able assistance of a couple of our friends).
Sunday was recovery day, so we went to the Ron Perlman panel. He’s a fun speaker – extremely foul-mouthed and self-deprecating. We snagged his signature and called it a weekend. As of the time of my writing this (Monday evening), yesterday was the saddest day of our year. This is our biggest event, and we get to spend it with a lot of great friends, and get a lot of great merchandise and add to our already ludicrous collection of autographs. Monsters everywhere, blood and guts, toys, movies, games, it just doesn’t get any better for the dedicated horror fan. And now it’s a whole other year until it comes around again. Oh well, less than six months to Halloween.
Love this shirt. I put this in just to trigger Old Man With Candy. “You all know me, know how I earn a living.” Great scene.This film stars a resident of Bronson, Missouri.Good costume tandem.I had no idea what the fuck this midget/child was dressed as.Sadly, they just don’t make movies like this anymore.This was sitting next to the coffee at the breakfast buffet.American Werewolf in London. Fucking awesome.A good group effortThis is some monster from an anime I don’t watch, but he did a good job with it.Oddly enough we were in the market for a new shower curtain, so we picked this up.I purchased this shirt to use as evidence because it has an unauthorized use of my likeness.A Game of Thrones Super Friends print. The Wonder Twins are Jaime & Cersei. Check out how their Wonder Twin powers activate.A bunch of little Aliens figurines we boughtMy wife bought this shirt. I was so pleased with her, I gave her the gift of the penis that very night.Remember Mad Balls? I remember Mad Balls. Now they’ve come back in the general wave of nostalgia, and there are Aliens Mad Balls.Great Spawn costume. You can’t see it well, but the eyes do glow bright green.For some fucking reason, there was a ton of Halloween III merch everywhere. I have no idea why, nobody likes that movie. Or I guess it’s trendy to claim to like it.The maid from the first season of American Horror Story. Also, wood.Of course I bought this shirt.A pretty good female Pennywise. Also, wood.Sloth loves inkAndrew Lincoln stealthily infiltrated the conventionHottie Ash. Also, wood.I liked this shirt.Creepy random guy. It’d be great if he just showed up like that and didn’t know there was a horror convention going on.Oh you *know* I bought this movie.Succubus. Also, wood.I liked how the only part of her costume that glows is one little strip right beneath her eyes. Wood knot, however.Well she normally wouldn’t have bought a denim vest, but the damned thing fit like it had been tailor made for her, so fuck it, the wife picked this up.Mutilated Disney princesses. Wood knot, to both.It’s really a shame you can’t see this properly, because she really does have like four or five birds attached to this thing attacking her. Wood knot.This was a great heavenly Pinhead costume. The insert glowing heart really sold it. Kudos to this guy.The whole Game of Thrones Super Friends.Sadly, did not buy this movie.If you can tell what that creature with the one large yellow eye is at the bottom of the poster, I’ll buy you a cookie if we ever meet. *HINT* It was one of my favorite movies when I was a kid.It’s like the fuckers are purpose-designing posters to try and get me to leave my current job and apply with them.I appreciated that he did the whole costume head from the first movie. Very few Captain Spauldings go through that extra effort.Hard to see, but she has a super realistic werewolf baby. Wood knot.I have no fucking clue what this is supposed to be.Mexican Deadpool being eaten by a guy in a big inflatable dinosaur skeleton costume. I should have also gotten a head shot of Mexican Deadpool for you – he had a sombrero & a big mustache. Such problematic, so appropriation.What the fuck is this I can’t evenOh look, The Shining. Wood knot.A representative from Dark Hour Haunted House in Plano, TX.Loved this idea – it’s Jason as he appeared in the NES game. Clever. Sadly, I had no rocks to throw at him, to keep try and act out the game.I liked the work this guy did on his head piece.A kid dressed as something from Five Nights At Freddy’s.Don’t know what the character is from, butt wood.Some anime, I’m sure. Wood.I thought this to be a clever way to do something different from the dozen bloody-soaked Carries walking around.The less said about this, the better.Wood knot.Silent Hill. Respectively, from the left, wood, knot knot knot.Star Trek…spiders? WTF is this even…?I thought about buying this for those days I feel like identifying as female.Great shirt – I had to zoom a lot to get it, so if you can’t tell, it’s our two protagonists from “They Live”. If you haven’t seen that movie, you’re a disgrace of a human being.There were a lot of IT costumes about. This was one of like, fifty.Hmm – from the left: wood knot, knot, wood, knot.It seems strange and grimly hilarious to me that a horror convention chooses depression as it’s charity of choice.The family that slays together…And of course you can’t even go to a fucking FFA convention anymore without there being multiple Deadpools.
Jefferson: He liked France, but he didn’t LOVE France like Franklin.
Back in March, my wife and I took a trip to England. We saw the sites, did the tourist thing, watched a soccerfootball local sporting event. Something odd came up a week prior—a friend of mine just happened to be in Paris that weekend. Side trip! One thing I learned from the people I sat next to on the Eurostar to Paris, it doesn’t matter what country you are in, people bitch about the same stuff at work. Also, since it was snowing, no matter what country you are in people will irritate me by bitching about the cold. I’m from Arizona, if I can handle a little snow without complaining, what does that say about you?
This is my review of Kronenbourg 1664.
This is also my review of Kronenbourg 1664.
I thought I would find out if a beer was different here vs. across the pond. So I bought three cans on the train with the intent of smuggling one of them back home. Cost for three 500mL cans: about €11. But why Kronenbourg? Honestly, it was the only one available at the time I thought of it that was sold on both continents. Once I got home I picked up a six pack from a local Kroger. Cost: about $8.
Here’s the problem, when I decided to finally drink it I found out what was available at my local grocer was imported directly from France, rather than a contract brewer located somewhere in North America.
Edinburg, that’s in still in Scotland, right?
To make matters worse, the can I stuffed in my checked bag at Heathrow was actually brewed by a contract brewer in Scotland. Which gives me the further impression that not only does the Auld Alliance still live[!], the modern Scottish economy is mostly booze, and [fucking] sheep related.
Incidentally this 500mL can is 2.5 out if the 4 daily units of alcohol recommended by the British government. Which is a shame, given the amount of alcohol available over there. Not as shameful as the beer; this is rather forgettable. Neither is one I would recommend when others are available, but for purposes of consistency: Kronenbourg 1664 2.5/5.
Due to this disappointment I went and found another to feature. This one is from Grand Canyon Brewery in Williams, AZ which for the observant among you will recall the last time I raised awareness for the Glibertarian Beer it Forward.
This one uses the same schtick as the bock with the bag of wood chips in the bottle to add notes of fresh cut oak but also raw coffee beans. I was much happier with this one. Grand Canyon Coffee Bean Stout: 3.5/5.
I was planning on writing an article with the specific intent of insulting people. Why would I do that? Because Polish jokes are funny.
This is my review of Zyweic 1881 Porter.
While funny, these jokes have a vicious history. It began on September 1, 1939. Do you know what else was significant about that day? Much like the word, “assault rifle,” the Polish joke has its origins in Nazi propaganda. During and after the invasion, the jokes were pushed with the intent of creating a stereotype that made the Poles look stupid. To the point where Hitler himself made claims of Poland countering the Blitz with mounted cavalry and swords. This was not a just wild claim, as Poland was overrun as quickly as it was precisely because of it’s outdated military. The old adage of going to war with the army you have, rather than the one you want has merit. This was all designed to minimize sympathy Europeans might have for the Poles once the Germans were through with them. Nobody’s going to care, they’re just untermenschen, right? Nowadays, Poland is part of NATO and those GROM guys look pretty serious.
Knowing that, maybe the jokes are in poor taste. So much so that it actually got Jimmy Kimmel into a bit of trouble when he began reviving some of these jokes in segments of his show. I personally have no idea if he used them after people complained, because I don’t watch his show. This link here says that he personally likes them so much that he was going to continue it.
Since I know a fair number of you don’t care, I‘ll put a link here for an exhaustive list.
So this beer is no joke. It says porter on the label but it is definitely more stout like. Not a super sweet chocolate stout or one that is adorned with dark fruit and peanut butter. It is nice, dry, and straightforward as 9.5% abv gets. Perfect for day drinking. Zyweic 1881 Porter: 3.5/5
I’m back again for my 2nd article. I have listened to the feed back on my Young Karl Marx review and have attempted to craft a better and more reviewish review. I will start by explaining what my level of familiarity is with Ted Kennedy and the Chappaquiddick incident. It is low–I’m 26 and didn’t pay attention to politics or the news in general until a couple years ago, and my early impressions of Ted are from pop culture. The impression I got was that he certainly wasn’t diet Kennedy, but he was Kennedy the lesser. Most noteworthy for his ability to live an average lifespan as a Kennedy. I learned a little more when he died: the Lion of the Senate nickname, his failed presidential run, brief mentions of the Chappaquiddick incident and his years of public service to both our country and the Soviet Union. Now to the film.
I haven’t read any other reviews, so I don’t know how other places view this film, but an important distinction to make is this isn’t a film about the Chappaquiddick incident featuring Ted Kennedy. This is a film about Ted Kennedy set during the Chappaquiddick incident. What this means is that the film is focused on his struggles and is framed from his perspective and his desires. The film opens with a Kennedy family photograph and zooms in a young Ted. The film then cuts to an interview talking about living in JFK’s shadow, and that is the major theme and struggle of this film. Living in his brother’s shadow, his father’s and the public’s expectations. Answering the question, “Where does Ted fit within the Kennedy legacy?” Jason Clarke plays Ted Kennedy, and he mostly does a good job. There are a few moments where you can tell he is ACTING!! His Mayor Quimby accent comes and goes and, in a few instances, even veers toward Bing Crosby territory, but it isn’t too distracting. Kate Mara plays Mary Jo Kopechne, the former campaign staffer of Bobby and the girl who dies. She does an OK job of playing her, but there isn’t much of a character for her to play. Mary Jo’s story before she dies is that she must decide whether to join Ted’s future presidential campaign, and she is the only one of the “Boiler Room” girls who is reluctant both because of what happened to Bobby but also because of who Ted is. We learn hardly anything else about Mary Jo. We only see her in the film within the prism of what she can do for the Kennedy’s.
In case you weren’t sure who Ed Helms is…
The film also establishes early on the role of Joe Gargan in the Kennedy family as someone who is either a brother or a fixer, depending on what Ted needs at the moment. The film also gives him the role of a conscience; he’s the person who is trying to steer Ted not towards what is good for Ted or “The Kennedys” but towards what is right. He is belittled and ignored and almost none of his often-good advice is taken. Joe or Joey is played by Ed Helms, who–I don’t know why–has always kind of creeped me out. He did an OK job, but I felt he was kind of distracting in the role. I think he is the most famous person in the cast, and I couldn’t unsee Ed Helms. The other major family presence is his father, played by Bruce Dern who I assume is Laura Dern’s father. Joe Sr. is portrayed first as creepy and later as sad. He is first introduced as a voice over the phone and his health hadn’t been addressed at that point in the film. You hear heavy breathing; it sounds almost like someone masturbating and it reminded me of Frank Booth from Blue Velvet. He utters one word before the call ends and he almost chokes out the word alibi. The first time you see him, the film builds up tension in the manner of a horror film and the sounds of his approach are almost industrial. He is in a wheel chair, shrunken, twisted and largely silent, and he is given an aura of fear and reverence. The big scene with Joe Sr. comes when Ted finally decides to stand up to him and tells him that John and Robert were great men–not because they were made great men by their father but because they were. He tells him he, too, is a great man; he just has to find himself. His dad tells him that he will never be a great man. Ted hugs him and they both cry.
The film visually looks great. It is filmed the way many 60’s films are: lots of pastels and lots of Norman Rockwell influences in the framing and poses people take. The film occasionally strays from the cheery 60’s palette and gets dark and ominous. The camera, unlike Ted, keeps returning to the water and gets all it can out of it. There are horror movie touches scattered throughout the film: his dad, the bridge, the water. The first example is towards the start of the film, where the camera lingers on the Chappaquiddick sign in a way that it might as well say Camp Crystal Lake. The film deals with the fallout of the car accident for the bulk of the film, and it never properly conveys the tension of the situation. Despite a death, it feels less tense than even a film like The Post. The film seems more concerned with Ted’s inner struggle than the exterior struggle of the event. There are countless lawyers and advisers throughout the film who, just like Joey, are giving good advice and are ignored by Ted, who instead fucks things up. One of them was Clancy Brown playing Robert McNamara who, growing up watching Highlander as a child, I was excited to see.
The film ends with most of Ted’s lies coming undone but with almost no legal repercussions. Ted has asked Joey to write a resignation speech to read at a press conference, but instead decides to give an adviser-written speech designed to illicit sympathy and save his career, with Joey reduced to holding his cue cards so he can go “off script”. The film at the end includes some real footage of people reacting to his speech. The opinions are mixed, but most are saying they would still vote for him. One that stood out to me was a woman who was asked if she thought he should run for president and she replied, “That kind of thing isn’t up to me.” I think that attitude sums up a lot about how we ended up where we are and the success of Dynasties like the Kennedys, Bushes and Clintons. The film tries to do the opposite of a “warts and all” approach, and looks at a tragedy through a “feels and all” approach and asks should he have been punished or should he have continued on and found a way to give to the world and make good instead. The film also gives Ted the benefit of the doubt in the most important moment of the film. We never see him drinking and it seems like maybe he might just be tired. The crash and Mary Jo’s death are never shown in a way that doesn’t obscure the clock and ambiguity is allowed to creep in. I think this kind of corruption isn’t anything new, but the way it was brushed aside by corruption and pushed out of the limelight was a major public moment of the elites being above accountability that I’m not sure had even been so brazen. It reminds me of recent events in many, many ways, and the Ted Kennedy of this film is probably Jeb Bush’s spirit animal. I’m not sure I would recommend it. It has good elements but at least how I interpreted it gives a lot of support in the direction of the film for Ted even though it shows his many flaws. I don’t know enough to say if it is historically accurate, but I can say it makes me disgusted with the Lion of the Senate nickname.
Which one of you is it? The Saturday day drinking crowd at Glibertarians.com has averaged 163.7 comments per weekend for the past 10 Saturdays, which means if this crowd is anything like the rest of America, around 16.4 (I’ll let you decide who is less than 2/5 of a Glib) of you have on some level have an unnatural fear of the number:
“Please, I’m not afraid of a number,” “that’s preposterous,” you say. Sure you’re not. You wear the veneer of the pure rationalist as your public face. Never flinching at the thought bad luck or fate. You walk happily under ladders and you pet the nice black kitty that crosses your path—if you’re not a cat person maybe you kicked the little bastard in the ribs. Deep down inside you’re clutching your rabbit’s foot or rubbing the head of the Raphael action figure you’ve had since 1991, the last remnant of the talisman you swore by as a kid. After all, Raphael was cool—but rude. You do this in secret.
I know with certainty, one of you uses Not Adhan’s horoscope as an investment strategy. Your secret is safe with me. Its cool, I won’t judge you.
This is my review of Lagunitas Lucky 13 Mondo Large Red Ale
Whether or not you are among the 10% of Americans that is superstitious, Friday the 13th does have an effect on your life. Not just the marathon from the movie, which I contend still has the best ending to any horror movie. There is a quantifiable effect, that has drawn the attention of serious academic researchers. People call in sick from work, stop travelling, and generally avoid leaving their house. But why?
Foolish mortal, murder is merely mischief,
Some attribute it unfortunate events occurring on Friday the 13th. The number 13 itself being associated with the Norse god, Loki, the god of mischief. Leave it to the Vikings to consider murder merely “mischief.”. Maybe Judas Iscariot was the 13th person to show up to dinner and we all know he formed a heavy metal band in the 80s. Most of it is simply attributed to simply being one digit behind the number 12. With 12 months,12 apostles, 12 Norse gods, a day being divided into 12 hour segments, et al. 12 is a “complete” number.
80% of buildings in America avoid using the number 13; buildings with greater than 12 stories simply call the 13th story above grade the 14th floor. The Apollo program even considered skipping 13, which would have made the movie much less interesting. Interestingly enough, a commercial runway is designated 13R and the standard Roulette wheel sports Black 13.
Lucky 13 was released at an unusual time. Its spring, but for most of the country it still pretty cold out. Maybe a bit late for a stout but certainly too soon for a summer ale. They made it a red ale, and a strong one at that. This one I have to admit, is okay. I’ll leave it at that. Lagunitas Lucky 13 Mondo Red Ale 3.0/5.
I would like to draw attention to an update to an article from a couple weeks ago. The information I presented was, to put it bluntly, incorrect. I have amended the article to reflect this. H/T: DEG.
Why mention this? Unlike some other websites, I like to think we have integrity. That is all.
I have long made grumblings of writing an article here, I just moved to a new house and started a new job so I decided to get to it while I still had some free time. The idea to do a review of this came when I was checking for nearby theaters on my movie pass app and the nearest theater happened to be an art house theater a couple of miles from my house. Living away from relatives we didn’t have any plans for Easter so my wife and I decided to check it out and leave our neighborhood of swap meets and men wearing bow ties selling bean pies in front of burger king to go see a movie in the local historic district where the locals continue the colonial tradition of brunch. The theater was a single screen theater with an old-style marquee with Karl Marx in big letters. The box office was staffed by a hipster male with a hairstyle typically reserved for male figure skaters and Final Fantasy characters. In order to buy popcorn and a soda I had to interrupt a conversation about Armie Hammer between a chubby woman wearing horn rimmed glasses and a skinny woman wearing horn rimmed glasses. The chubby woman took our order and despite appearing to work there I am still unsure what job the skinny woman could possibly have been doing. There were only about 6 other people at the movie mostly what appeared to be upper middle-class couples over 50.
The film started with a scene like the human hunting scene in Planet of the Apes. People dressed in rags and covered in mud search the ground for sticks and the they hear a noise; the French police arrive on horseback and begin rounding them up and beating them with sticks. The next scene is the introduction of Engels and his wife. His wife is leading an argument between the workers and her boss Engels father. She and her sister end up quitting and Engles then tracks them down looking for an interview with the proletariat of Manchester. He finds them in an Irish bar, he approaches them about getting an interview and he is punched. He takes one punch and he drops like a chloroformed child, when he wakes up he is being nursed by a beautiful red headed Irish woman who later becomes his wife. Marx introduction sets the pattern for much of his actions through out the film. He is at a meeting of a socialist organization where he sits around tables, eats, drinks, smokes, complains about not having money and insulting his allies berating them for not being radical enough. He is writing for a publication in Germany and they are all about to be arrested and they are having an argument of what to do next while the police are breaking down the doors, he ends up writing for a man named Arnold Ruge. The film then skips to Marx in his kitchen eating and talking with his wife about their future and her past. Marx’s wife is as ridiculously French as Engels wife is Irish and both are played by actresses’ way out of the actors league. His wife had given up a life of luxury as an heiress in order to be with Marx but she is in love and is a true believer. This scene also features the first of several mentions of Marx being one of (((them))). His wife is threatening to go back to visit her family and ask for money because they have a newborn daughter, she pressures him to instead hit up Ruge for money and to pressure Ruge to sell some of his railroad stock. The film then shows Marx and his wife attending a rally for a politician named Proudhon. Proudhon is giving a speech where he declares that property is theft. Marx decides to speak to him after this and in this meeting, he impresses Proudhon and begins his rivalry with several of Proudhon’s acolytes. The film also begins another reoccurring thing where legitimate criticisms of Marx and socialism/communism in general are brought up and breezed past never to be addressed again. Marx questions how if property is theft, how can there be theft without property, the film purposes that the flaw with Proudhon’s statement is it is all philosophical with no real world application and that there must be a way to implement this idea for it to be worth anything. The rest of the film is about Marx’s journey towards fulfilling that goal but in the moment they all just kind of laugh it off get complimented on their French and move on to the next scene.
In this scene, Marx is now visiting Ruge asking for money and makes reference to his railroad stock but he is unsuccessful, the meeting however is still fruitful it is there that he meets Engels.
The meeting with Engles starts of hostile, he claims not to know him but soon he begins to insult him for being rich and out of touch based on his writings and their previous meeting, things are not going well but then Ruge is called away and they are left alone in the room and the fellating of each other’s egos then begins. Moments after Ruge leaves the room right after Marx has given him a through dressing down Engles calls Marx a genius, Marx returns the compliment and says that his report on the workers of Manchester which he had just insulted was a colossal work addressing something no one else has touched. The film then cuts to them out side having left Ruge without a word. They are now smoking cigars, grinning ear to ear and walking with an extra spring in their step. The homo erotic tension is so palpable you could cut it with a hammer and sickle. They decide to author a book together but then their plans are interrupted by the French police asking people for their papers, which seem to have fallen out of Engles coat at some point. They make a run for it and the only chase scene of the film commences. There are several staples of the chase sequence, chickens, construction sites and people yelling at them as they walk through their homes. They escape and meet up at a bar where they drink and talk about the loves of their life Marx talks about how great his wife is and Engels who has yet to marry the Irish girl because he is still afraid of his father says, “it’s complicated”. He and Marx then make a toast and kiss. I swear I watched this movie, I’m not making this up. The next several scenes are about Engels meeting and befriending Marx’s wife, and the beginning of the writing collaboration between Marx and Engels. They start by writing a defense of Proudhon against a journal called the Critical Critique, their reply is initially called Critique of Critical Critique something the film things is so clever it is played for laughs several times. Not long after it’s publication the good times then come to an end and Marx and his wife are told they have 24 hours to leave France.
The film enters the low point of Marx’s life so far, he is in Brussels in exile from France where he was in exile from Germany. He has a second child on the way and he is now at the post office facing his dark night of the soul, his Jesus in the desert moment. He is at this post office in search of a job. He is quickly rejected from the position he applied for after promising to not engage in politics and providing an unsatisfactory handwriting sample. He then lowers himself even further and considers a non-white collar job offering to do anything. The film then cuts back to Marx’s house where his wife and her servant are being hassled by bill collectors only for Marx to walk in with a big grin on his face and an arm full of groceries and proceeds to pay the bill collectors from a full coin purse. He then tells him Engles had wired them some money and pulls out a lobster for dinner over which Marx, his wife and his servant discuss an offer that Engles has set up in England. Marx is hesitant to leave behind his currently unattended children but his true believer wife talks him into it and so he heads of alone to join the League of the Just.
When he gets to England it turns out that their membership in the league of the just is not a done deal and Marx secures it by claiming that he was close personal friends with Proudhon and he can connect their organizations which is a large over statement. He is at best a friend but more accurately an acquaintance of his at this point. They then travel to meet with Proudhon who isn’t interested in being the contact, he tells them that he is far too busy and lazy to take on the additional work but is interested in working something out. Proudhon then gives them a copy of his new book The Philosophy of Poverty a training montage the commences where they are furiously reading his book, writing notes in the margins and writing a response. Their response The Poverty of Philosophy again follows Marx’s favorite themes of not radical enough and we need a game plan not more musings, again turning on a former ally. Shortly after this at a meeting with some members of the Justice League Marx does a through critique and take down of Kietling who at this point has only been nice to them and is a charismatic and outgoing, workhorse and useful idiot. They are later called to an official meeting with the league and considering everything they have done are expecting to be expelled but instead they are given carte blanche to plan the new direction of the organization. Marx has apparently nurtured Kietling who they mention several times throughout the rest of the film has given up. They finally go to a big meeting for the Justice League and they take it over. Engels forces a vote naming him as the speaking delegate and then proceeds to make a speech calling for violent overthrow of the current system, he then proceeds to rename the organization the communist party and replace its banner, a white banner with a shinning sun and shaking hands with the slogan “all men are brothers”, with a deep red banner with the slogan “workers of the world unite”. After this coup they must be tired because they are next seen at a trip to the beach where Marx is complaining about being tired of all the hard work and never getting to write what he wants to write so they argue and decide to write what he has always wanted to write a plan for a new system the Communist Manifesto. While Engels and Marx discuss this their wives have a weird conversation about families Marx had 2 kids and Engels’ wife refuses to have kids with him unless he gives up his money but is chill with her 16-year-old younger sister giving him some kids. They then proceed to write the manifesto in another writing montage and the film ends with the four of them putting the finishing touches on the first draft while Marx’s servant brings them drinks. And the credits play out to a Bob Dylan song. I think it was The Times are a Changin’.
So far I haven’t talked much about Engels solo scenes. The reason is I can not place them on a timeline they are all the same. Engels has major daddy issues and his two central struggles in the film are seeking his factory owning papa’s approval while still hanging out with his cool commie friends. The other issue is he struggles with the fact that he is wealthy and a successful part of his father’s company. Engels in the film somehow makes an overweight man who between mouthfuls of food and drink, and puffs on a cigar talks about communism and complains about being unable to feed his family by not having a job the more likable character. Engels is also played by easily the worst actor of the film, for the most part the actors range between serviceable and good but Engels whenever tasks with anything in the nonverbal realm breaks out into faces that express a wide variety of ailments. The production value is surprisingly good, the film is well lit and the locations and costumes all are convincing. Where the film really falls apart in the editing and the script. The dialogue to their credit is cringe worthy not because it is unbelievable or unnatural but because it sounds like the things awful pretentious people would say. The overall structure and tone of the film is that of a Wikipedia article, its choppy and is the opposite of the old adage “show don’t tell”. My wife and I discussed politics afterwards and it didn’t go well, so unless you are politically aligned and looking for a hatewatch I would not recommend this for a date night.
Sometimes humans have an unhealthy infatuation with things that are simply not normal. This has been going on since we realized that people with odd deformities are not the result of demons residing in their bodies. Nope, these people were just freaks.
This is my review of Green Flash Le Freak Belgian Style IPA
This was the first beer I picked up following my annual medieval self-punishment. It’s fairly inexpensive, available in my area, and a hoppy Saison sounds compelling in a, “that simply isn’t natural” sort of way. Why did I get it?
As I said, freaks have been a draw for a long time. The earliest of nature’s curiosities are believed to gain popularity during the 1600s. Later on, travelling shows featuring such people began. One example were the conjoined twins Lazarus Colleredo and John Baptista, who travelled Europe with, “female about four feet high in every part like a woman excepting her head which nearly resembles the ape.”
One person many associate with freak shows is PT Barnum. Who is credited with the infamous quote, “There is a sucker is born every minute.”
Turns out this is misattributed to him. Barnum however, was the type of person that would embellish the truth and even engage in activities of questionable ethics in order to turn a profit:
The nature of this exhibition showcases Barnum’s willingness to skirt controversy and behave in potentially unethical or immoral ways. What he purchased was a nearly paralyzed woman named Joice Heth. This woman, who was nearly 80 years old, was displayed as a 161-year-old ex-nurse of George Washington.
Barnum was well aware that buying slavers was illegal in New York at the time. However, he used a slavery loophole that allowed him to lease her for a year. During this time, he would display this frail woman for up to 12 hours a day. As a result, Heth passed away a year later and left Barnum with no source of income. Thinking on his feet, he scheduled a live autopsy of her body and charged 50 cents (a hefty sum at the time) for people to watch.
He was even credited with creating hoaxes.
The Cardiff Giant – This infamous case was a hoax based on a hoax. In 1869, a large statue was dug up in New York, which the discoverer claimed to be the body of a 10-foot ancient man. It was claimed that this was one of the giants mentioned in the Bible. The creator of this hoax charged people 25 cents to view it, and people showed up in droves. After it was sold for $23,000 to another showman, Barnum built a giant and claimed that his giant was the real one. When the owner of the original statue tried to sue Barnum, the case was thrown out of court. This event was the origination of the “There’s a sucker born every minute” line, a quip that was spoken by the plaintiff in this case, not by Barnum.
The world’s earliest known photo STEVE SMITH?
More info on PT Barnum and his antics during the age of toxic capitalism gone wild, can be found here.
Is this beer worthy of it’s moniker? It has good body like nearly every Saison out there with a strong citrus flavor. It uses copious amounts of Amarillo hops which aren’t as bitter, which seem to compliment rather than balance. It’s definitely different, but freak might be going too far. Green Flash Le freak Belgian IPA: 3.5/5
Since this question was raised, now is as good a time as any to go over basic glassware. Like nearly anything else, beer tastes better when served in a glass; preferably a clean one.
This is my review of–wait I don’t have a beer to review today. Let me check the archives…
Stone Xocoveza! Hat Tip: Yusef drives a Kia a.k.a Russian Kia drive Yusef.
Since the type of beer many brewers put out have been increasingly become more complex, with some styles becoming some sort of arms race to see who can put the weirdest, hoppiest, or highest gravity beer to market, it helps to have a suitable glass. Much like a pistol needs a proper holster, the right golf club to get the most efficiency from the shot needed, knowing why a mallet exists and why you might want to use it instead of a hammer, or even picking the right pair of socks–you get the best result with a tool built for task. I will focus on the basics since there many out there that will over-complicate this.
The Snifter
If you drink a lot of Barleywine, Imperial Stouts, or if you are one of those people that are obsessed with bourbon barrel aged ales, this is your best bet. Chances are if you are the type that likes a good cognac, you probably already have one on hand.
Because of their high ABVs and strong, aggressive flavors, imperial stouts and barleywines are meant to be served in small pours at cellar temperatures (around 55° F). This makes them perfectly suited for a short-stemmed, globe-shaped snifter like the kind you’d use for bourbon, brandy, or cognac. The balloon shape focuses volatile aromas that would otherwise dissipate in an open-topped glass while allowing the beer to unfurl and develop as it warms in the glass.
If you only occasionally drink this type of beer, the next best thing is a chalice.
The Chalice
No, it’s not pretentious to put beer in a wine glass! Especially if you’re drinking a fruity, light-bodied, highly effervescent saison or farmhouse ale like the ones brewed in Belgium and France where wine glasses are de rigueur.
This is true, it is not pretentious to put beer in a wine glass–but if you do, make sure to wear a Rush Limbaugh brand necktie with your favorite polo. Preferably in clashing colors, which will likely be a given due to the garishness of the tie. It is this way, everyone around you will assume you are a one of the world’s “special people” and will not pass judgement on you as a courtesy. Get a chalice.
This is probably the most versatile glass, being that it will suit also suit IPA, pale ales and nearly any other effervescent beer like many West Coast Amber Ales. It does not however, do as well for malty beer.
The Pint Glass
No need to differentiate between English type with that ring near the top, the Irish version with the svelte curve, or even the ubiquitous tumbler, they’re pretty much all the same.
This does better with malty beers. Think English ales, stouts, porters, and brown ales. The idea here is your hand is intended to warm the beer slightly over the time you spent with it. This link has an exhaustive list of suitable varieties. I will concede the existence of a variant called, “the stout glass” which is really just a pint glass with a wide shoulder. I have never used one.
The Stein/Mug
How I decorate my cubicle.
Lagers go in a mug. The thick glass and handle is meant to keep your hand from warming it. It is also handy for those times when you had too many but are still toasting your friends with too much force or need a handy melee tool.
Many like these because you can have a lot of fun with them. These are suitable for all lagers with one exception:
The Pilsner Glass
Pilsners go in a Pilsner glass. Unless it is dirty or all you have is a mug, this is not a polite suggestion.
Das Boot
This has its roots well before the movie Beerfest. There are a few different versions of how this came to pass: both versions begin with a Prussian General making a wager to his men prior to a particularly hard battle ahead to drink beer from his boot should they win. Turns out they did. Here’s where it deviates: the first is he actually drank from his boot, and the glass was made to commemorate the occasion. The other is that he chickened out and had commissioned the glass be made. Either way, the article linked below, says the boot shaped glass actually has its origins in England but eventually became popular in Germany. So much so that by WW1/WW2 the glasses were sought after as war trophies by allied soldiers. Personally, I’d take a P-08 Luger.
So how was Stone Xocoveza? It was actually pretty good. It’s a chocolate stout that like Mexican hot chocolate contains various spices such as cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, and red chillies. It isn’t overwhelming at all, they actually keep everything in balance. Served of course, in a pint glass. The only downer, was the price. Over $12 for a six pack…otherwise, good call, Yusef. Stone Xocoveza 4.0/5.
I am going to try to spice things up a bit and tell you about that one time I went to Jamaica. Turns out, the cruise ship I was on made a stop there and I got to look around a bit as the bus drove us to Montego Bay. Okay, maybe I just got the Cliff’s Notes version of Jamaica, but the island seemed like a nice place, at least the tourist areas. Something I found kind of odd was when the group transferred from one Jamaican chaperone to the other, they all seemed to fill in the time by telling the group about their country’s tax code.
No, seriously.
This is my review of the beer in the short, stubby, ugly bottle: Red Stripe!
I have been dying to use that picture.
First, I got off the ship and hopped on the bus. The bus driver explained a few things unique to Jamaica, such as their habit of locals letting loose their goats off the side of the road. It served two purposes: to feed their goats and to keep the grass trim, that way the government saves money cutting grass along the side of the highways. Clever. He also explained that Jamaica had a general consumption tax and a property tax. That was it.
Later the guys on the catamaran said the same thing. There’s a general consumption tax, and a property tax, but they also explained there was a tax on some imported goods, like gasoline. Then a different bus driver again explained their tax code.
I thought that was pretty cool, if true. Maybe there are places besides the US where a libertarian can be somewhat welcome. After all, they had pretty well maintained roads, even by US standards and there was other infrastructure like overhead powerlines and sewers. They even speak English! Snorkeling with my 3 year old only created more interest; perhaps something rubbed off on this particular former British colony. This one has some awesome things to do and the people here seemed to be every bit as fun as you want them to be.
Nope. I was wrong.
Here is a basic breakdown of Jamaica by the things that people around here tend to pay attention to. As always, everyone here is welcome to call bullshit.
State Legitimized Theft
There is a tax on real property, but it is broken down by value as determined by the Jamaican government. This table below has a breakdown of property values.
There is also a tax levied upon the transfer/sale of real property of 5% or 1% for shares–if the capital gains made on the property exceed 37.5%. There is also a stamp duty for the same transactions of 1% of shares and 4% for real property–there are exemptions on the stamp duty for shares sold on the Jamaican Stock Exchange.
General Consumption Tax. It’s basically a VAT at 16.5%. Taxes on some imported goods, such as petroleum products and alcohol apply.
There is no income tax!…..if you make under 1,500,000 JMD/year. Over that, its a flat 25% unless you make more than 6,000,000 JMD/year–then it is 30%. There are also some considerations for Jamaicans living abroad vs. on the island.
You’ll like this one. There is no tax on capital gains or inheritance.
Minimum Business Tax: 60,000JMD/year for all corporate bodies. This also applies to tradesmen, professionals, and businesses exceeding 6,000,000 JMD/year–this tax can be deducted from an individual’s income tax. Source
It is well-known that Ganja is illegal. Culturally, they don’t care. In fact, I was propositioned twice to purchase Ganja and I was on the island for about 10 hours.
4.-(1) The following Commonwealth citizens (not being persons deemed to belong to the Island as defined by subsection (2) of section 2) are prohibited immigrants-
(a) any person who is likely if he entered the Island to become a charge on public funds by reason of infirmity of body or mind or of ill-health or who is not in possession of sufficient means to support himself and such of his dependants as he shall bring with him to the Island;
(b) any idiot or epileptic or any person who is insane or mentally deficient or any person who is deaf and dumb or deaf and blind, or dumb and blind, unless in any such case he or a person accompanying him or some other person gives security to the satisfaction of the Chief Immigration Officer for his permanent support in the Island or for his removal therefrom whenever required by the Chief Immigration Officer;
(c) any person certified by a Health Officer to be suffering from a communicable disease which makes his entry into the Island dangerous to the community;
(d) any person over sixteen years of age who by reason of deficient education is unable to fill up the prescribed form of declaration for immigrants in his own handwriting and is likely to become a charge on public funds;
(e) any prostitute or any person who may be living on or receiving or may have lived on or received the proceeds of prostitution; cf, the children under the age of sixteen years being dependants of a prohibited immigrant;
(g) any member of a class of persons deemed by the Minister on economic grounds or on account of standard or habit of life to be undesirable immigrants and so declared by order published in the Gazette; […] “
On the surface, they look like they are on par with one of the more restrictive states in the US. In practice? Forget it.
I tried. Jamaica is no libertarian paradise, but the goat curry is tasty.
So is Red Stripe any good? Not really. The owner of the $400,000 catamaran generously informed us the Red Stripe was on him at the boat’s mini bar, just tip the nice lady serving you. So in effect, its cheap enough that even Jamaicans give it away for free. It’s not without its charms though and certainly something I’d grab out of nostalgia for that time I went snorkeling with my family in Montego Bay. Red Stripe Jamaican Lager 2.0/5.