On Brewdog, the End Of History and stuffed beaver
Brewdog may tell you that shoving a bottle of freeze-distilled beer down a squirrel’s throat marks their End of History. I say – why stop at woodland creatures? I want to see the following stuffed with bottles:
- a kitten that cries pure iso-alpha acid extract when you tickle its belly
- Don Shenker (chief executive of Alcohol Concern) who vomits ethyl alcohol when you push the right button. And every button is the right button
- a haggis (preferably a mature male from the Western Isles) that seeps smoked malt from its pores. If haggis is out of season, substitute with a badger. And substitute paws for pores.
- a rampant unicorn astride a rainbow with a bottle of double-tripel-barrel-aged-smoked-hefeweizen where its horn should be
- a beaver stuffed with Hardcore. Although I do believe something similar may already exist within the realms of certain gentlemen’s entertainment websites.
- a salmon on Speedball leaping majestically over a knackered old shark.
- a gruffalo sporting the world’s bitterest beer, brewed from the bile of those critics who, like, er, just don’t get ‘it’.
Remember, if you keep reading your Fukuyama*, he tells us that “history cannot come to an end as long as modern natural science has no end… within the next couple of generations we will have knowledge and technologies that will allow us to accomplish what social engineers of the past failed to do”. Making us one happy planet of hop worshippers has got to be on the Brewdog agenda. As long as they don’t intend on inserting it into a chameleon.
* Second thoughts: the last man in a bottle, published in The National Interest, summer 1999
- a kitten that cries pure iso-alpha acid extract when you tickle its belly
- Don Shenker (chief executive of Alcohol Concern) who vomits ethyl alcohol when you push the right button. And every button is the right button
- a haggis (preferably a mature male from the Western Isles) that seeps smoked malt from its pores. If haggis is out of season, substitute with a badger. And substitute paws for pores.
- a rampant unicorn astride a rainbow with a bottle of double-tripel-barrel-aged-smoked-hefeweizen where its horn should be
- a beaver stuffed with Hardcore. Although I do believe something similar may already exist within the realms of certain gentlemen’s entertainment websites.
- a salmon on Speedball leaping majestically over a knackered old shark.
- a gruffalo sporting the world’s bitterest beer, brewed from the bile of those critics who, like, er, just don’t get ‘it’.
Remember, if you keep reading your Fukuyama*, he tells us that “history cannot come to an end as long as modern natural science has no end… within the next couple of generations we will have knowledge and technologies that will allow us to accomplish what social engineers of the past failed to do”. Making us one happy planet of hop worshippers has got to be on the Brewdog agenda. As long as they don’t intend on inserting it into a chameleon.
* Second thoughts: the last man in a bottle, published in The National Interest, summer 1999
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