Wait 'till the fire turns green

This is the last thing I intend to post on the Late Unpleasantness in Wa*kerstan today, but it seems perfectly appropriate in the wake of truly obnoxious beer distribution legislation buried in the Budget Destruction Bill that was slanted against the state's craft brewers: if you're from WI, check out the page opposing Chapter 125 Branch Legislation and then everyone should do thenselves a favor and support the state's craft brewers (such as Sprecher or New Glarus, among others) by buying some of their fine product. 

Ghod knows I've written some fairly grim stuff as of late. Again. In order to cure the impression that I'm taking a telecommuting course in Gloom and Doom 101, feel free to peruse BeerAdvocate.com, RateBeer and/or new find Imbibe at your leisure. And if you don't drink, there's always the screaming snark of the Buffalo Beast to content yourselves with. 

It's not really my place to make recommendations of stuff I've never tasted before, but the description of BrewDog Paradox Smokehead from the Reader's 2010 Best of Chicago issue from a few weeks back sorely tempts me to pick up at least one bottle in order to inflict it on myself and anyone else coming to the Pirate Party at Capricon who's as curious - or foolish - as I am.

All your stouts are belong to us, Matey. Yarrrrrrrr.

Noooooooo!

"It is with some sadness and regret that we note the passing into history of two of Goose Island's oldest styles of ale: Nut Brown (formerly Hex Nut Brown) and Oatmeal Stout. These classic English styles were born in the brewpub at 1800 Clybourn and later bottled and distributed from the Fulton Street brewery. Both beers received critical acclaim and continue to win awards at the highest level.

But in the competition for fermentation capacity, tap handles, and shelf space, Nut Brown and Oatmeal Stout have been disadvantaged by the increasing popularity of hoppy, wheat, sour, and barrel aged beer styles. We are grateful for the few loyal aficionados who have enjoyed our old friends until the end. To you, we can offer only assurance that the Goose Island brewpubs will continue to brew regular batches of both beers and offer them by the pint and by the growler to enjoy at home.

The very last batches of Nut Brown Ale and Oatmeal Stout are in stores now: good to the last drop."

Both of those were damn fine brews - especially the Nut Brown - and I'm sad to see 'em disappear from store shelves.

However, the mad scientists at Goose Island continue to make this bottle of pure, unadulterated Archfiend-endorsed evil available to the public, and if you're not driving for a few hours or so (note: I'm not kidding about this) you too will see the power of its decadent nature in toto. Cheers.

I got a giggle out of the humor displayed in the vid advertising BrewDog's frightening new Tactical Nuclear Penguin (which I first caught on the morning news on WMAQ-TV, of all places!), and at 64 proof (!) it apparently really is the most potent brew in existence, beating Sam Adams' Utopias by a 5% margin.

And now, the downside: according to NBC-5, a bottle of this stuff will cost you about (aboot?) $50 US.
 
My guess is that this is worth picking up, but only after you get a big, fat, entirely insane bonus at work.

That, or a sack of money from an armored car smacks you in the face after the truck gets abducted by aliens.

Well, so much for my having a discount card at both stores. Story here.

I have to wonder what Binny's will do with the Marcey Street airplane hanger after the merger; they don't really have a showcase store per se, although the Clark Street location in the old Ivanhoe Theater comes close.

Here's hoping they do keep the wider selection of microbrews and imports coming, though. Binny's selection is impressive, but Sam's collection was a lot more varied, at least IMHO.

If you're into drinking the unspeakably vile (or are merely unspeakably vile yourself), this article from the Chicago Reader may convince you that the horrors of Malort must be experienced to be believed.

And given this theme, now a bit of historical reminiscence: back in 1991 when I was at Capricon 11, I woke up Sunday morning in my hotel room at the former Hyatt Lincolnwood and decided that the alcoholic leftovers were not going to be flushed down the toilet. What was left over was, in fact, 3 cans of Coors Light (not mine - c'mon, give me more credit than that), part of a bottle of either Rumple Minze or Doctor McGillicuddy mentholmint schnapps (mine) and the remainder of a bottle of 101 proof Wild Turkey bourbon (also mine). I tossed all of the filthy remains of this stuff into a 2-liter empty pop bottle and tossed in about 4 tabs of leftover store-brand caffeine pills (I frown on illegal drug use, after all) and then shook all this stuff up and took a quick hit from it. 

Needless to say, it was just as vile as it sounds. 

Even worse, I actually took a second swig of it and continued to drink it.

I then passed it to my longtime drinking crony Juris Jegens (most people in Chicago skiffy fandom know him as Yuri), warning him that it was, indeed, pretty damn hideous.

His reaction after two swigs was a bit stronger than mine; namely, he spewed through his fingers and made for the bathroom.

Somehow, I held on to that bottle and even took periodic swigs from it with no ill effects over a period of roughly six hours or so. Later, Juris and I got a ride to the Devon avenue turnaround for the Kimball bus and I decided to toss it into a nearby cut-down oil drum the CTA was using as a garbage can. 

I swear to this day that the remains of that bottle caused the garbage it splashed to actually smoke.    

Now see what happens when you go to a SF con, get bored and decide to experiment with your boozy leftovers?
 
I've almost gotten over the experience.
 
Uh...uh...BATS CARRYING RADIOS BOMBARDED MY HOUSE WITH JACK T.CHICK PAMPHLETS TRANSLATED INTO MARTIAN  ESPERANTO! UMBRELLA NUCLEAR PENGUIN UNDERPANTS! THE GHOST OF HUNTER S. THOMPSON KEEPS RAIDING MY FRIDGE FOR PINEAL GLAND POPSICLES! ZIB ZAB YHUGMAAASHAAATHAAAHAAAAAZIBZIBZIBZIBzibzibziiiiiiiiiiib...

Notice that I wrote "almost".

Remember that aforementioned going-away party for a friend?

This is what we bought him, and at $100 a bottle it actually turned out to be completely worth the price.

I'm ticked. Why? Well, because a rant that I posted yesterday came back to haunt me when I opened a can of Beamish - I think you can tell how it was packaged by the title of this post - and ended up drinking one of the flattest, most bitter cans of Irish stout I've ever had the displeasure of consuming.

Let's put it like this: I've never liked the draught can or bottle; I'd take a bottle of Guinness Extra Stout in the old regular bottle over a Guinness Draught in a heartbeat, largely because the plastic floater-thingie somehow manages to kill the complexity of the regular Extra and replaces it with a taste that's both flat (oh, look! you've managed to duplicate the taste of a malfunctioning draft tap! Lucky us!) and bitter in comparison to the original. Big whoop.

Here's where my error was made: the last few times I've had Beamish was at the Bristol Ren Faire, which was - as you can guess - from a tap. It tastes great. The stuff I had yesterday tastes much less so, and is actually less appealing than the Guinness Draught I had when I caught Watchmen a few weeks ago. In other words, Beamish has apparently decided to compete with their gigantic rival by shipping beer in a container that makes it taste worse than their competition. Pure frickin' genius on their part, eh? 

Can somebody explain why either one of these breweries do this? Are they actually trying to not increase their market shares in North America? Is this some bizarre form of reverse-psychology marketing to make us drink Harp and Smithwick's more and Guinness less? I and I are baffled, I are.