This is a post that Gizmodo’s resident hops philosopher Travis should have written, but as he’s sleeping one off it’s been left up to me. Charlie Bamforth, a British academic who holds the most fabulous of titles”the University of California’s Anheuser Busch Endowed Professor of Brewing Science”claims that without, we would be without computers, the iPod, Silicon Valley and the space program.
It’s not exactly the newest of sentiments”British artist Hogarth depicted the good and bad side of 18th-Century London life with his cartoons Beer Street, all ruddy-cheeked prosperity, and Gin Lane, where booze-addled sots let their babies slip to their death, and all for another G&T” but it’s a belief that’s always good to hear. Find out Charlie’s theory after the jump.
Here’s the deal. Man has smelly goats (speak for yourself, mate, I’m more of a hyena girl myself). Leads peripatetic existence, following smelly goats from grassy tussock to grassy tussock. Man discovers barley. Yum Yum, Bitch can make me a barley bread and goat sandwich, he thinks. Six months of goat sandwiches pass. Man gets bored. Sees book on Amazon.com entitled Great Things To Do With Grain.
Aha, Brewski, he thinks. Man studies the chapter on beer, is slightly foxed when he discovers that he will have to stay put for six months while the barley ferments. Never mind, I’ll just have to put up with goatburgers for the forseeable future, he ruminates. While this magic potion is brewing in its goatskins (an environmentally friendly by-product of the goatburger) he decides to set up shop in the nice goatskin tent that Bitch sewed when she wasn’t tending to his every need.
Pretty soon he is joined by another man, somewhat fatter than himself (when he had eaten all his goats, Second Man availed himself of his woman.)
“Wasssuuuuuuup?” says Second Man. “Mind if I hang out with you for a while?”
“Sure,” says First Man, checking on the replete goatskins.
“Watchoodoin?” says Second Man.
“See this?” says First Man, waving around Great Things To Do With Barley.”It says I can make beer out of this. But in order to do this, I have to be static, or the barley won’t ferment and then we won’t be able to hang out while Bitch makes me my goat sarnies.”
“Oh, okay,” says Second Man. “I’ll just hang out too, if that’s okay with you.”
So, when the beer is finally brewed, the men sit down and crack open their first tinny. Good GOD it is good. It is fabulous. It is tangy, refreshing, it trips off the tongue, and has these wonderful little bubbles in that speed the feeling of euphoria to the head. “Dang, I’m going to make me some more,” says First Man. “Want to help?”
“Sure thing,” says Second Man. “But I don’t think we can do it alone. Let me get my iPhone. I can text my mates and they will find us easily thanks to Steve’s use of Google Maps.”
Before you can say, “Same again, Bitch,” the valley is full of goatskin tents and fat men, gently burping and talking about last night’s game, as all the womenfolk tend to their every need”goatburgers, fresh beer and blowjobs. In just a few years, the static community has grown, thanks to man’s need for the amber nectar.
And it is not long before the goatskin tents lead to wooden dwellings, the wheel, to Y-Fronts, universities, fire trucks, Wal-Mart, newspapers, retractable washing lines, pr0n, fringed leather chaps, Charlton Heston, Debbie Gibson, the Flying V guitar, the Panama Canal, Janine’s Dobly and the iPod. Let us give thanks to beer.
Beer was responsible for Technology [The Inquirer]