The Cynicism has is at times quite caustic . You’ve been warned
So let me get this straight, the Emmy award recognizes excellence in the television industry.
This sacred tradition,… well it must be people stop everything they are doing on a Sunday to watch someone go up to a podium spout some nonsense and an occasional homophobic rant not to mention there is drinking involved and a tasteless flaccid host that no one really enjoys…. I could go on, …
But to get back to it, this sacred American tradition was started in Jan 1949 about 4 years after the end of WW2, during the Golden Age of Capitalism (give or take a few days/weeks/months) by The Los Angeles-based Academy of Television Arts & Sciences (ATAS). They established the Emmy Awards as part of an image-building and public relations opportunity.
Kneel before your God Babylon
Do you see that ? The Academy of Television arts and sciences wanted to find a way to build it’s image with the public so they created an award show honouring themselves really. I don’t mean to get off on a rant here, but this is the equivalent of publicly awarding myself for masturbating to a picture of myself masturbating, to increase people’s opinion of me and get them to think that I am so fucking special that every year I should let you in on this frenetic circle jerk, so you can tell others who were not so lucky to participate how awesome a job I did of public congratulating myself for essentially congratulating myself.
Actually I wont get off on a rant. I’m just going to flex the kegel muscles in my brain, suppress torrents of verbiage and not violently expectorate vitriolic generative juices all over this post, mostly because unlike the Emmy awards I have decency.
I know what you are saying: Who doesn’t like to receive an awards? And the answer is asexual people who abhor touching and any form of contact because as Rupaul says:
MrsMary really love Rupaul’s Drag race
This is a great marketing ploy of course. It keeps the public attention off of the world around them and the simulacrum of reality you want them to mercilessly plug into like a young Ron Jeremy on the set of Super Hornio Brothers. I generates $$$ and interest it’s good for business.
The medal is of a winged woman holding an atom. Supposedly the wings symbolize the muse of the arts, while the atom symbolizes science, embodying the culmination of the art and the science of television.
Do you want me to tell you what it really means? A winged woman holding an atom represents public relations industry which uses data from scientific studies to reduce man to his most basic of drives and manipulate him into seeing things which he feels inspires him towards an action that just may redeem him of his mediocrity.
Maybe I’m overly cynical. Maybe I should just leave it alone that so many of the stereotypes and prejudices that create the hostile bigoted environment we live and work in are promoted and disseminated by television/movies on a daily basis.
Anyway I would have more to say but I am going to pleasure myself using tears as my only lubricant. You are all welcome to the award ceremony later honouring my contribution to a growing drain clog
Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy.
William Butler Yeats
Written Friday June 7, 2012
Today is a day right out of a Baudelaire’s Les Fleurs du Mal. At the moment NYC is being assailed by rain and high winds in the same way I am assailed by conflicting feelings. I am very anxious and feel like smoking. I want to be in good company but I also kind of like the solitariness of looking out the window, from my desk, at the raindrops. I don’t want to stay in the house and yet I am not so fond of going out into the storm.
This is the foundation of my writing experience: being torn between inertia and activity and yet feeling not completely fulfilled by either option. Somewhere amidst all that conflict lies a sense of tragedy. The more I think about and try to qualify this tragedy the more insolent my thinking because I’m almost certain that this experience of tragedy is what animates the entirety of the human existence.
For me at least from this great turmoil some come words and sentences and soon enough patterns of imagery and diction start to dance over the paper or in this case the screen. But now to let the words flow would be a bit immature. I have to let things build to a raging boil then with pen in hand, start writing and calm it down to a simmer. So it’s a waiting game now: waiting for time to pass, waiting for the angst to reach a crescendo.
But in the meantime I need to sit some place new; some place not already stained with the memories of past laughs and arguments. So I have decide come hell or high water (which is not to far-fetched looking at this storm) I’m going to The Quays Irish Pub, to pass the time. It is rumoured they have the best Guinness pour in the city, and I will gladly put them to the test. But before I do that, I flip through some pages in my old weathered copy of Les Fleurs du Mal, to this poem. If you like it I will do a video reading and then tell you about my trip to The Quays Pub.
Ma jeunesse ne fut qu’un ténébreux orage,
Traversé çà et là par de brillants soleils;
Le tonnerre et la pluie ont fait un tel ravage,
Qu’il reste en mon jardin bien peu de fruits vermeils.
Voilà que j’ai touché l’automne des idées,
Et qu’il faut employer la pelle et les râteaux
Pour rassembler à neuf les terres inondées,
Où l’eau creuse des trous grands comme des tombeaux.
Et qui sait si les fleurs nouvelles que je rêve
Trouveront dans ce sol lavé comme une grève
Le mystique aliment qui ferait leur vigueur?
— Ô douleur! ô douleur! Le Temps mange la vie,
Et l’obscur Ennemi qui nous ronge le coeur
Du sang que nous perdons croît et se fortifie!
My youth has been nothing but a tenebrous storm,
Pierced now and then by rays of brilliant sunshine;
Thunder and rain have wrought so much havoc
That very few ripe fruits remain in my garden.
I have already reached the autumn of the mind,
And I must set to work with the spade and the rake
To gather back the inundated soil
In which the rain digs holes as big as graves.
And who knows whether the new flowers I dream of
Will find in this earth washed bare like the strand,
Beer review are shamefully boring. Basically every beer review speaks about how a beer looks when poured into a glass. Then you are exposed to a discussion of mouth-feel, aroma, carbonation and finally taste.
Personally if I wanted to listen to soul-crushing palaver I would sit in a bar in a more affluent or hipster area of town where I can be continually bombarded, like the city of Dresden, with beer recommendations by someone who looks like an acid -induced nightmare from 1972. I have no malice towards hipsters. Without hipsters there would be no need to gentrify neighbourhoods and subsequently transform the good, original indigenous culture or sentimentality into a machine for the propagation of some surreptitious capitalistic aim.
To that end I make sure that each of my beer reviews are, free from any reference to patchouli oil, and fully engaged with the reality of the human experience.
Big Daddy IPA
I’d rather have a bottle in front of me, than a frontal lobotomy.
I was done with IPA’s. My life was bitter enough thank you very much. I had tried Stone IPA, Smuttynose Ipa, Racer 5 IPA, Harpoon IPA, Lagunitas IPA and the list goes on ad nauseum. I don’t remember what the last IPA I had was, I just knew it was over. I moved on, dabbled in the Quadrupels, Tripels, Barley-wines, and Stouts.
As chance would have it, this weekend my fridge was not stocked with libations well there was a Corona (don’t judge me). It had been a long week, a tiring week, and to cap it off with drinking Bud Or Coors light would have add insult to injury. I rushed to the super-market and came across an inordinate amount of swill. I almost was resigned to my fate of a sober weekend when out of the corner of my eye I spotted Big Daddy IPA. The rest is history. Literally I killed the whole six pack over the course of the weekend.
This is amazingly drinkable. It is one of the most drinkable beers let alone IPA’s I have come across. But here is an official review for all of you who need overinflated jibber-jabber to validates your presumed self-importance
Aroma/ Look / Taste / Mouthfeel
There is my favourite bottle opener given to me as a gift brought all the way from Scotland.
The aroma is predominantly that of hops finishing in particular. (By finishing hops I mean hops added in the final stages of a wort boil or dry-hopped in the fermenter for the purpose of lending hop flavour and/or aroma to the finished beer. -You will encounter the finishing hops again after your first sip.)
The taste is characteristic of what you would expect from an IPA. I was hit first with a coppery, grapefruit pith, piney taste common to IPA’s then I was accosted in the best way possible with a nice citrus note. The citrus note in this case was more of an orangey-floral note. You get hint of some malty sweetness.
The carbonation is very subtle, and that in combination with the creamy texture/mouth-feel added a lot to the drinkability of this beer. The finish was a bit dry and bitter but not overpoweringly so. What stuck out to me the most was that I wasn’t over powered and prison man-handled by the hop profile and bitter after-taste.
Recommendations / Food Pairings
I would recommend this to someone who hasn’t tried an IPA yet. It has all the character of an IPA but it is not too bold. It is very palatable and drinkable. I like drinking beer and I never felt the need to pair it with anything. It just so happened that during the course of my drinking I do shovel food into my face. With that said I have to say that spicy foods – Indian style curries, Mexican food, grilled meat, hamburgers, pizza definitely something about the tomato and garlic for me at least. Any kind of really sweet and spiced dessert should work as well, it will bring out the malt profile.
That’s the problem with drinking, I thought, as I poured myself a drink. If something bad happens you drink in an attempt to forget; if something good happens you drink in order to celebrate; and if nothing happens you drink to make something happen.
You’re at a party. You been avoiding going out for a bit but today you finally made it. While you scan the room making a mental note of who you will avoid, your eyes lock with another familiar pair. These eyes are familiar and while seemingly inviting there is an element of danger because they belong to an ex-lover (girlfriend or boyfriend).
You are both adults so you sit to chat and both of you instinctively ask for stuff drink before you get there. There is awkward chatter and more drinking. You don’t hate each other, and still have the fleeting thought that things could get back together at some rosy time in the future where communist where bright colors and aviator glasses finally go out of style and die for good. But now isn’t then.
Somehow the more you talk the more familiar habits resurface, and then there is an awkward pause where you both realize that the other person for years has been trained to please you, to give you just what you like how you like it. Fun sexy times occur and its the best ever. You can curse and call the other person names and not act like you don’t mean it and are just babbling incoherently like biblical time possession. You can grab some hair (from the roots) and you both make sure to help the other arrive. You know you never want to see this muthafucker again but even while your heart is empty looking for love your loins are assuaged and that’s all that counts
That was for me what drinking this beer was like. I swore off IPA’s like I would a bad relationship. I ducked and dodged them in the market, at the bar, until it just so happened that my back was against the wall. It had everything I liked , how I like, when I needed it the most. Now my fridge is stocked with the stuff I like -easy access makes it all the sweeter.
“That’s the problem with drinking, I thought, as I poured myself a drink. If something bad happens you drink in an attempt to forget; if something good happens you drink in order to celebrate; and if nothing happens you drink to make something happen.”
Guys and Dolls
I thought I would share with you a list of alcoholic products I will be reviewing in the near future. feel free to make some suggestion or chime in about what you think about a product. This is not the entire list there is more lots more :-) – Drink responsibly