The nasty days of fall are upon us in Portland and before we know it, winter will be in full swing. Hell, it’s dark enough that I’d say winter is here.
It is with a Ghost Town Galvanizer IPA I face this day and while I like the tropical fruit notes on the nose, the middle isn’t very present and the finish has the bitterness of cilantro. There are elements of grass too, but old, dry grass not the fresh cut stuff.
I’ve been hearing this song in my head a lot lately. It’d be funny if things weren’t actually dire. But what can you say about a ruling class that has clearly forgotten about the people they represent, if they don’t outright loath them already?
~Night after night, my heartbeat shows the fear~
It is tempting to reach out for any security in these moments. Any offer of stability or safety, any promise of not having to watch it all burn down-or if you do watch it burn down, it’ll be from a safe distance. YOU won’t feel the heat.
There are two things I try to keep in mind, under those circumstances.
First, to be wary of charlatans. The Great White Grift is in full swing, folks and they really need you to buy in.
Second, there is no place that will not burn.
So we have to choose to not start fires. And that is….as far as the metaphor is going to take me today.
Today’s second pint goes to the Oregon Food Bank.
A pint for Dionysus 