Archive for Editorial

Songs Of Praise

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , on August 21, 2009 by thebrewyorker

Throughout history people have been singing songs praising the magnificence of alcohol. It is evident in all walks of life and every social stratum. For some, singing songs wasn’t enough, so they wrote them…or stole them. This practice spawned the most beautiful music and lyrics ever heard. Or so it seems when you’re on a binge.

The earliest song of praise I could find dates back to the year 1210. The melody was taken from a nativity song, “Or Hi Parra”, and the lyrics, originally praising the baby Jesus, were changed to glorify the wonders of beer:

Let it be seen – The ale will sing to us
Whoever drinks some – May he be as he should
Thing of wonder!

It doesn’t sound like much, but it got a lot of play on the jukebox.
This was the start of a new trend in songs of praise. People figured the baby Jesus had been praised enough and that alcohol should be the focus for the rest of the millennium.

Skipping ahead six hundred years, you could hear sailors singing drinking songs across the ocean blue. One of the most popular was Yo Ho Ho (and a bottle of rum):

Fifteen men on a dead man’s chest – Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!

It’s a pretty jolly song for a bunch of guys who loved to rape and murder.

Not too many people know that “The Star Spangled Banner” was taken from an old English drinking song. The original lyrics went like this:

Oh, say over here – can you pass me a beer Hey check out that girl – Oh, sorry that’s your wife

Come to think of it, maybe we should have kept the original.

Then of course there’s “99 Bottles Of Beer On The Wall.” Most people sing this during long car rides. It’s also used as a form of torture in POW camps. Legend has that this song was based on a true story.

Other songs of praise are:

Red, Red Wine – praises wine. Tiny Bubbles – praises champagne. Tequila – praises tequila. The latter being the most direct about its subject matter, because the only lyric in the song is “tequila.” I wrote a similar song called “Whiskey.” Actually it wasn’t so much a song as it was me shouting “whiskey” at a bartender.

One of the most recent drinking songs is “Blame It”. Blame it on the alcohol, that is. From what I can decipher from the lyrics, if the guy drinks enough, the girl looks better to him. If the girl drinks enough, he looks better to her. If they both drink enough, they get laid. Not a bad formula.

So go out and get a bottle of wine, or champagne, or tequila, or beer, and sing a song in praise of alcohol. Or better yet, write one. After all, we could still use a song about moonshine.

– Will


Things You Can Throw

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , on August 19, 2009 by thebrewyorker

This past week, the Philadelphia Phillies, led by Pedro Martinez, destroyed the Cubs in a 12-5 game. One cubs fan was so upset that in the fifth inning, he threw his beer at outfielder, Shane Victoriano. Baseball fans are not the only people out there who should be annoyed at the offending Cubs fan, Johnny Macchione. I think I echo the sentiment of every moral person out there when I ask how the hell a man could waste beer like that during the recession?


1) Your Keys – Since you’re already committed to being a douche, you might as well be a confident douche. Throwing your keys sends a powerful message. It says that you are unafraid to be recognized for your actions. It says, “I am willing to cause true damage to a player.” It says, “You want a ride home, sexy?” And most of all, it says, “Hey, can I get those back?”

2) A ball – The ultimate in the stealthy move, bringing a ball of your own to the field will never be noticed, until there’s two balls in center field. Imagine the Benny Hill antics that will emerge when in your drunken rage, you bean a surprised outfielder from the stands. Think about how much fun it’ll be when he gets up woozily and can’t remember which is the ball he’s supposed to be playing with! And hey, if anyone ever gets upset with you for it, just tell them you thought this was just part of the game. Anyone around will be able to back you up on the idea that you’re a moron.

3) Children – Kids getting you down? We all know how it is, by the seventh inning, they’re yawning, they’re complaining they want something to eat and you’re too busy to buy them a seven-dollar pretzel. Why not give them the experience that every child dreams of and drop them on top of a major league ball player? Little Timmy/Sally will have such a blast when the realization hits that he/she is actually on the field where the game is happening! And what’s the player going to do? Throw them back? Oh no! That kid is going to the dugout to meet the team! That kid is going to be on the news! And hey, if the kid actually gets hurt, at least it’s your genetic line that you’re disabling, and I think we can all agree that’s a good thing.

4) Fucking Nothing – And then again, here’s an idea. Instead of your beer, why don’t you just sit the fuck down and not be a nuisance? And who is the team that all this is surrounding? Once again, it’s the mother-fucking Cubs. You know, I think folks cut Cubs fans a bit too much slack. Every year, they’re doing something retarded. I know your team hasn’t won in over 100 years, but if you can’t watch the game without getting into a retarded fury and throwing shit at the players or having an exorcism at the stadium or repeatedly littering the field with detritus over collective annoyance, it’s time to take up knitting.

– Jake

Beer For Peace

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , on August 15, 2009 by thebrewyorker

I don’t mean to get sentimental on you people. And I don’t mean anything racial by saying “you people.” But folks, sometimes we have to set aside our differences and look at things in a broader perspective. People, I encourage you to drink a beer for peace.

Yes, drink a beer for peace. If history has proven anything (and by my count, it hasn’t) alcohol is a peacemaker. Drink a beer for peace. The world is at war, our economy is crumbling and Michael Jackson is still dead. Drink a beer for peace. Let’s take a bigger look at this. Forget about the war we have here. What about the cosmic war between good and evil; the battle between Heaven and Hell? What if God and Satan put aside their quarreling for one hour, sat on an oak porch and drank a beer? They’d be laughing and hugging at the end of that hour, I assure you.

Drink a beer for peace. I’m being serious. What if we had a beer with Stalin? Or Malenkov? Or just the Russians in general? We wouldn’t have had a cold war. We would have had a tall, frosty war with foam dripping on the side.

Come on, people. Drink a beer for peace. Peace can’t drink for itself because it is not a living organism. That means you have to do it. But if you decide not to drink for peace, then can you drive me to the bar? I need a designated driver tonight.

– Will

Drinking Age

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , on August 12, 2009 by thebrewyorker

DISCLAIMER: I am not, in any way, supporting underage drinking with this piece. The legal drinking age is 21, and you should not taste a sip of alcohol until then. *snicker*

Illegally downloading music was all the rage back in the day when you had to pay $15.99 for a CD. Granted, you were getting 10-15 songs, but lots of the time you only really wanted one of them, and singles weren’t available for every possible song. People generally want to do the right thing, but when a rule or a price is absurd enough, it’s essentially ignored. And when everybody ignores a rule, enforcing it becomes a joke, and the rule ceases to exist.

This is how the American drinking age works. While some people drink in high school, most people begin in college (at least those I know). Nobody waits until they turn 21. Getting a fake ID is not considered a crime by most; people who would never commit a crime their whole life will get a fake ID without hesitation. You know how silly it all is; you fight and die for your country at 18, blah blah blah.

A lot of people think the drinking age should be lowered. But who’s going to vote for a senator or congressman trying to get that passed? And anyway, what’s the difference? Under 21, but want to drink? Lots of places don’t even card. And for the ones that do? Buy a fake ID. It’s not really a rule, anymore; it’s more a vague form of discrimination that occasionally may prevent you from entering a bar or buying beer. Yes, it’s a bit annoying at times, but so is Monday morning traffic.

– David

Being Bold

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , on August 11, 2009 by thebrewyorker

The different writers for the Brew Yorker write their blogs in fairly different ways. Will takes all the things he’s pissed off about at the moment, sticks them in a big hat and pulls one out, peas on it, burns it, and then has someone else read it to him; David takes various memories, rips them out of his skull, crushes them up and snorts them with a cocaine chaser; Steele finds obscure pages from history books from countries where he doesn’t actually speak the language and convinces himself that he’s figured out the story; and I read the news.

The problem I’m now encountering is that, although I realized that a week and a half devoted to Barack Obama having a beer with a Harvard professor and the cop who arrested said professor in his own house was quite enough coverage, I seem to be the Cassandra (mythical Trojan cursed with prophetic dreams that would never be believed by anyone – from now on, we will consider The Illiad to be on your reading list) of that point.

So this week, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to find an article about the president’s beer summit and pretend that it’s about something else.

Okay… let’s see… from – “Beer summit: Taking bolder steps in debate on race in US”.

ALASKA – The heated debate on the great Bud/Coors “Race to the Summit” at Mount McKinley gained steam this week as members of MADD began protesting on the foot of the mountain. The climb has been controversial, ever since Peter Coors and Dave Peacock began arguing over whether Coors or Budweiser would be better fuel to a hiker trying to climb the highest mountain in North America. The two expeditions were quickly funded, and although the greater climbing community was disconcerted by the size of each expedition, Coors and Peacock pointed out how many beers the leader of each expedition would have to be consuming daily, and explained that the options were either to hire 15 extra members of each expedition who’s only job was to carry beer, or to blow up part of the mountain and build a bar.

The MADD protest began yesterday morning when MADD president Laura Dean-Mooney pointed out that with these men consuming 20 beers a day each, if either of them found a car on top of that mountain, it would be dangerous. Said Ms. Dean-Mooney, “So what that there aren’t many humans on Mount McKinley, there could still be cars, we don’t know what happens up there. There could be moose cars, bear cars, and if there’s cars, there’s driving, and if these men are around driving, than it is drunk driving! We must stop this awful drinking up the mountain race!”

Spokesmen for Molson-Coors and Anheuser-Busch both insisted that the men would not be driving while on the mountain. They also requested that we avoid looking at the helicopters carrying H2s circling the peak.

– Jake

Sick As A Dog; Drunk As A Skunk

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , on August 8, 2009 by thebrewyorker

I’m sick as a dog. It’s not so bad, just a mild cold. But I called in sick for work today, so I guess that qualifies me to be sick as a dog. This led me to wonder where did the term “sick as a dog” come from. When I have questions like this, I go to my own dog. My dog is eleven, which in dog years is 77. I just watched a documentary on Vincent Price and he died at 82. I hope my dog outlives Vincent Price. I don’t why but my big fear is that he won’t. So, earlier today I asked my dog where the phrase “sick as a dog” comes from. He told me that it goes all the way back to Chester, who was, of course, the dog of Jesus Christ. I know what you’re thinking: Jesus had a dog? And you know what I’m thinking? I’m thinking you’re a moron because everyone knows Jesus had a dog and his name was Chester. One day Chester became sick because he had some bad turkey. Jesus came home and said, “Hey! What happened to my dog?” And Chester said, “Don’t just stand there, do something! My stomach’s killing me!” Jesus said, “Hang on, buddy.” Jesus rolled up his sleeve and started rubbing Chester’s stomach. Chester said, “Stop rubbing my belly and help me, you freak!” Jesus said, “Shut up and give me a minute!” Jesus rubbed his belly for twenty days and nights until finally Chester was healed. “Wow, how did you do that?” Chester asked. Jesus just smiled and went down into the basement to work on his time machine.

The moral of the story is a dog can be just as sick as a human, hence the phrase “sick as a human.” This got me to thinking about the term “drunk as a skunk.” Where did this come from? For questions like this, I go to the skunk that lives down the block. The skunk won a bundle in scratch-offs and was able to afford his own house. I asked where this phrase came from and he said it goes all the way back to the Civil War. Abraham Lincoln was making some of his famous mashed potato pie for the troops when he noticed General Grant was holding a skunk. “What are you doing with that skunk?” asked Lincoln. Grant said, “Skunk? How dare you? This is my brother-in-law and we’ve been drinking all day in celebration.” Lincoln said, “That’s not your brother-in-law, you souse. That’s a skunk!” Grant said, “How would you know? You never even met my brother-in-law!” Then Jesus arrived in his time machine and said, “I need lie down. That time machine gives you jet lag. I’m sick as a dog.” Grant said, “I’m drunk as a skunk.” Lincoln said, “I’m hairy as a clam.”

I’ve come to learn that history is the greatest teacher. I also learned that if you take too many cough drops, you get loopy.

– Will


Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , on August 5, 2009 by thebrewyorker

Sometimes when I drink beer, I think of the Twilight novels.

True story: my fiancée reads the Twilight books. She brings some down with her to Atlanta, my place of birth. One of my Atlanta friends, the only girl, expresses interest in reading them. So my fiancée lets her borrow them. I return three months later, and all of my friends (most of them males in their late twenties) have not only read these books, but become passionately in love with them.

They argue loudly over who’s better for Bella (the main character): Edward (the vampire) or Jacob (the werewolf). These arguments become very emotional and passionate, as friends’ past drug addictions and other emotional experiences are brought up as evidence in each side trying to prove their point. Some even go to conventions and brag about how much various cast members from the movies touch them.

After all this, I decided to read the books. The first three, as I expected, were terrible. But the fourth one was AMAZING.

Let me tell you something; Stephanie Meyer is one fucked up bitch! House destroying sex, superhuman infant romance, gory dismemberment of animals, immolation, and cannibalistic caesarian sections are just some of the rewards for reading 1500+ pages of teenage girl whining.

So here’s my suggestion; read the fourth book. If you can’t tell what’s going on, read some summaries or something. It’s pretty amazing. Mormons are screwy.

– David