When Beer Becomes Bad

No!  Not In The Sense Of Going Off

Let me re-phrase that in light of what it to come.  'Not in the sense of becoming rancidly un-potable and disgustrous', although Your Humble Scribe wonders exactly what it would take for that to happen?

     Wow.  I did a quick Google and this is a broad and deep subject.  Apparently most beer is best consumed once bought, or definitely within 6 months of purchase if kept in cool, dark places such as fridges or handy caves.  Art!

Available for parties and weddings

     Not all beers, mind.  Sour beer, wild beer (?) and barley wine will all develop increased flavour the longer they are left alone.  For all beers, bitterness decreases in relation to how long they age, and they take on sweeter tones.  There was even a chart about how this works.  Art!

     Blimey.  This brewing business has wrinkles I knew not wot of.  Conrad just drinks it, or occasionally uses it when gone flat in his Sunday stews, to add a little more flavour. Art!

     Light, it seems, is the enemy of bottled beer, which will 'turn' as the ingredients are photosensitive, so bottled stuff needs to be kept in aforementioned cave.  Or fridge, if you're a slave to modern convenience.  Art!

Does not sound appetising at all

     Temperature is also important, because you can store your beer in the cold and dark for up to 6 months, but if you stored it in an underground hot spring or next to your gas boiler, it will die on your tongue in a mere 3 months.  Art!

NO BEER HERE

     The article I perused also mentioned "Growlers" which, I am guessing, are nothing to do with dogs.  They appear to be a variety of container, so once again Google-fu to the resolution - Art!

     Barking mad.  If you fill one of these at a pub or bar, drink it immediately as the brew has been exposed to lots of air, which shortens it's effective life drastically.

     ANYWAY of course none of that has anything remotely to do with what I really wanted to talk about, which was about beer being very, very bad.  This is from a Youtube Reddit thread about unexpected consequences - I paraphrase here.

     Okay, picture the scene.  You do that whilst I prod Art with this red-hot tuning fork*.

     Now you add a group of lads out on a camping trip, equipped with tents, food - and beer.  Copious quantities of beer.  They consume beer, set up the tents, consume more beer, then decide to shake a can of beer AS HARD AS THEY CAN and then bury it.  More beer is consumed.  They build their fireplace, ringed with rocks for safety, and get a good fire burning, letting it dwindle down to glowing coals so they can cook some food over it.  More beer.

     Suddenly there is an enormous explosion as the buried beer can burns bad, being directly under the fire and getting heated to bursting point.  There is a stunned silence as quantities of embers, ash and unburned twigs settle all around.

     Fortunately nobody was injured, apart from a ringing in the ears.  They decided burying a frothing beer can under a bed of red-hot coals was a silly idea, not to be practiced ever again.  Art!

Like this except hotter

Speaking Of Explosions And Badness -

Let's take another look at one of those recommended post-apocalyptic television series, this one being "Dominion", which Conrad would guess is a satire on how the Voting Systems people acquired all the wealth and power thanks to being the controlling factor behind the scenes, pulling all the strings all the time - Art!

Hmmm perhaps not

     Well for this one you need a certain amount of supernatural belief.  God goes on a vacation, which is the opportunity Archangel Gabriel has been waiting for, because OF COURSE Hom. Sap. are to blame, so he and the lower angels almost wipe out humanity, who are going to be saved by a Chosen One -

     Hmmmm nope.  Also, Conrad is rather suspicious of only having a single Chosen one.  What if they fall downstairs and break their neck?  Step in front of a bus?  Contract The Horrid Lurgy and die?  Much safer to have at least half a dozen Chosen Ones in my opinion.  Build a bit of redundancy into the system.

"Barriers"

As previously mentioned, Your Humble Artisan has gone through the BBC's photographic exhibition, apart from a couple of lame pictures I didn't think much of.  Still, might as well squeeze a bit of mileage from them.  Art!

     Conrad is no livestock expert yet I am prettttty sure sheep are not too bright.  You can imagine the thought processes going on in their very small brains:  "Thwarted!  We cannot move forward and lack the dexterity to climb this imposing structure.  O woe is us."  Art!

     What are they trying to hide?  Why is the end of the pier out of focus?  Conrad, on seeing this sign, would be extra-specially tempted to trespass, just out of spite.

You Were Warned, Young Lady

Yes, our next extract from "The Sea Of Sand" because to date nobody has protested at all, which means everyone loves it**.  You will recall that Sarah Jane was mooching about the desert, looking for the TARDIS -

After a good half hour, Sarah could see her tracks stretching backwards to the east as she travelled due west, the camp lost to view amidst heat haze and undulations in the desert floor.  Sticking to her self-appointed restriction, she swallowed a little water out of the bottle, making a face at the nasty chlorinated after-taste.

‘Yuck!  No wonder they make tea out of it!’ she told the desert air.  Now to find higher ground, and hopefully the TARDIS.

The nearest vantage point lay still further to the west, more north-north-west, so she manfully set her shoulders and hiked on.  Before she got there, a wide dry wadi opened up at her feet, so abruptly that she nearly fell into it.  Detouring around it would add another five minutes to her walk, so she braced her knees and jumped down the side in a small shower of rocks and dirt, sliding awkwardly and knocking her hat off.

The first thing she noticed were the strangely-regular shapes of big bushes under the far lip of the wadi, bushes with outlines broken up by netting.

‘Oh!  J Force!’ she realised, out loud, giving them a wave.  This probably saved her life, since the brawny, hairy left forearm that snaked around her neck from behind didn’t exert crushing force, and the big bayonet stuck in her throat at the right barely broke the skin.

     Ooo-errr Matron!  Things look a tad sticky for our gel.

Hmmmm Interesting!

As you should surely know by now, Conrad has no interest in the ballfoot game, but enjoys all the venomous fun when the fans come out to mock and jeer each other.  What did I espy this morning?  Why this - Art!

British billionaire Sir Jim Ratcliffe wants to buy Manchester United.

News of the 69-year-old's interest follows a Bloomberg report that the Glazer family are willing to sell a minority stake in the club.

     There are already over a thousand comments, which I am saving for later on, as they promise to be deliciously horrid.  Er - Conrad confesses that he's never heard of "Britain's Richest Man" which is probably of no consequence to either of us.

Finally -

Edna is whimpering with delight, meaning Degsy is home and there's no more time for me to add in those pictures of the birthday haul.  Maybe tomorrow.

     Until then, chin chin!

*  It makes him squeal at C#.

**  In my mind, which is where it matters.