friendofdorothy
Solidarity against neoliberalism!
what a fucking travesty! can't these idiots just brew beer and shut the fuck up offending people!
And their beer is shite (well the punk IPA I tried was rubbish)
what a fucking travesty! can't these idiots just brew beer and shut the fuck up offending people!
Fondly recalls Greene King Barley wine.
That was gold label surely?Little gold cans, shotgunned.
That was gold label surely?
I hammered the windscreen wipers of our £100 BMW 1502 back on when they flew off in Cornwall using Gold label BOTTLES back in ye day10% devil tins. Gold LAbel.
what a fucking travesty! can't these idiots just brew beer and shut the fuck up offending people!
And their beer is shite (well the punk IPA I tried was rubbish)
I bought an "Anarchist Alchemist" from the BrewDog in Manchester on Peters Street (?).
Cost me £12; I was wounded.
Well some one has been offended, so yes its offensive. Why do brewers feel the need to be satirical, whats so satirical about about overpriced, over-hyped, gassy beer? Gendered beer ffs!
Drinkers don't need added gas, added sexism or added marketing crap.
Not sure I would drink it now (barley wine) - but back in the day when I still had teeth, that slightly glue-y, sweetly sticky, almost viscous (yum, salivating now) drink was just the ticket for a rapid energy boost - practically felt like a meal. Growing up on hot Vimto (Vomito) cordial, it was just a bit of a continuum really.
Well he would, wouldn't he? He's not going to agree his company is overpriced because the shares will tank.
No social group is more audibly or visibly “radical” than artists, musicians, and writers, and with the rise of the Culture Trust capitalism seems to have elevated these malcontents to positions of power and responsibility. And just think of the results: now we are sold cars by an army of earringed, dreadlocked, goateed, tattooed, and guitar-bearing rebels rather than the lab-coated authority figures of the past. But even while we live in times in which ostentatious displays of rebellion are celebrated and admired as much as the building of grandiose imitations of Versailles and the burning of hundred-dollar-bills were once, we are constantly reminded of their meaninglessness, their irrelevance to questions of actual power. For all our radical soda pops, our alternative lifestyles, and the uninhibited howls of our hamburger stands, we seem to have no problem with the fact of business control over every aspect of public expression.
For consumerism is no longer about “conformity” but about “difference.” Advertising teaches us not in the ways of puritanical self-denial (a bizarre notion on the face of it), but in orgiastic, never-ending self-fulfillment. It counsels not rigid adherence to the tastes of the herd but vigilant and constantly-updated individualism. We consume not to fit in, but to prove, on the surface at least, that we are rock ‘n’ roll rebels, each one of us as rule-breaking and hierarchy-defying as our heroes of the sixties, who now pitch cars, shoes, and beer. This imperative of endless difference, not that dread “conformity,” is the genius at the heart of American capitalism, the eternal fleeing from “sameness” that gives us a thirst for the New and satiates it with such achievements of civilization as the infinite brands of identical cola, the myriad colors and irrepressible variety of the cigarette rack at 7-11.
As countercultural rebellion becomes corporate ideology, even the beloved Buddhism of the Beats has a place on the executive bookshelf. In The Leader as Martial Artist (1993) Arnold Mindell, “Ph.D.,” advises men of commerce in the wise ways of the Tao, which he compares to “surfing the edge of a turbulent wave.” For the Zen businessman the world is the same wildly chaotic place of opportunity that it is for the followers of Tom Peters, although an enlightened “leader” knows how to discern the “timespirits” at work behind the scenes
The problem with cultural dissent in America isn’t that it’s been co-opted, absorbed, or ripped-off. Of course it’s been all of these things. But the reason it has proven so hopelessly susceptible to such assaults is the same as the reason it has become so harmless in the first place, so toothless even before Mr. Geffen’s boys discover it angsting away in some bar in Lawrence, Kansas: it is no longer any different from the official culture it’s supposed to be subverting. The basic impulses of the countercultural idea, as descended from the holy Beats, are about as threatening to the new breed of antinomian businessmen as Anthony Robbins, selling success and how to achieve it on a late-night infomercial.
Alongside the hyper-rational, hyper-efficient Organization envisioned by America’s premier managers there also developed an emotional and religious conception of business practice, a cult of Positive Thinking that was even more hostile to cultural memory than was the dominant cult of Efficiency. In the writing of the Positive Thinkers anti-historicism reached a new plateau of sophistication: the annoyances of history and cultural particularity were not just to be over-paved, but levelled, reduced to a convenient flatness where every epoch was exactly like the present as far back as the eye could see. The economic struggle of daily life was and had always been a matter of individual men and God, a question of just how positively each up-and-coming entrepreneur could think, just how blindly he could pursue success.
No effective challenge to the rule of business can be mounted without solid grounding in precisely the sort of cultural memory that Information Capitalism, with its supersonic yuppie pan-nationalism and its worship of the instantaneous, has set itself out to destroy. Without memory we can scarcely understand our present—what strange forces in the dim past caused this agglomeration of seven million unhappy persons to be deposited here in the middle of a vast continent, clinging to the shores of this mysteriously polluted lake?—much less begin to confront the systematic depredations of the system that has made our lives so miserable. [...] Without an understanding of particularity, of the economic constructedness of our lives, this kind of critical consciousness becomes impossible. All we can know is our own individual discomfort, our vague hankering for something else—an ‘else’ that can be easily defined away as a different product choice, a new lifestyle, a can of Sprite anti-soda, or a little rule-breaking at Burger King.
I wouldn't drink it.
Fondly recalls Greene King Barley wine. Agree that Landlord is a top ale (and also partial to Brains SA)....
Well some one has been offended, so yes its offensive. Why do brewers feel the need to be satirical, whats so satirical about about overpriced, over-hyped, gassy beer? Gendered beer ffs!
Drinkers don't need added gas, added sexism or added marketing crap.
I found this.Firkin! Those were a long time ago ....
Oh god! We went into a Brew Dog pub in Nottingham last year. not only was it expensive but everyone in there was a complete wanker, especially the staff. We drank up quickly and left!
Btw CRAFT doesn't mean anything. It has no brewing or legal meaning - its just marketing jargon. They hope putting 'craft' into their descriptions will convince you that their high prices are worth it. They are not.
But Camden’s own crowdfunding website – through which it raised some £2.76m earlier this year – suggest it has a value of around £50m.