Finally. Esquire Magazine decides to weigh in the subject of craft beer. This is what everyone has been clamoring for.
Esquire magazine knocking some low hanging fruit and dropping hard hitting journalism for the beer masses. Good to see the Hearst Corporation taking a break from servicing the glory holes at Oprah Magazine and Cosmopolitan to enlighten us with a pithy editorial on beer.
First, note taking is not as pervasive as this jizzrag of crusty hyperbole would lead one to believe. Notwithstanding, would a guy writing in a spiral bound some shitty 16 bar flow or trifling Pintrest poetry be somehow more laudable? It is easy to shit on anyone who is interested in something, especially if they have mantits and a prediabetic notebook. However, if someone’s hobby affects my life somewhere in the “fucking not at all” realm, then go ahead. Go bee watching. Collect Disney pins. I could give a shit less. Pounding away in a notebook is still way less annoying than flashmob shitheads or pumping Fossil watches to a weak penis readerbase. Esquire desperately wants to sell me a Timberland jacket so bad the revenue precum is pounding . If this magazine were a real person it would be a complete prick, so it’s hard to take advice or watered down levity from someone who wants to tell me about the 20 most stylish bags this fall.
A better formula for this article would have been:
“Take any observation about a hobby” + “Exaggerate it” = Top SHELF JAPERY.
YOU EVER NOTICE HOW CYCLISTS ALWAYS WANT TO RIDE ON EVERY STREET AND RIDE IN THE RAIN FOREVER ITS LIKE GET A CAR LIFE ISNT TOUR DE FRANCE AMIRITE. wakkawakkawakka.
Also, people who are into beer want a certain glass not for some aesthetic, its usually serving a purpose like aromatics or to enjoy the beer more. Painting it as Princess Belle who wants her microbrew tea set is a great set up, it’s also vapid, shallow, uninformative, and I guess worst of all, disinteresting.
Stating that a certain subculture has a strange online forum dedicated to it is like saying that your back hurts after intercourse with a Samoan person. These truths are axiomatic and unsurprising. Again, it doesn’t really contribute anything to the beer world, and it somehow ends up being even shittier than the sidebar Esquire article: 15 HOT FEMALE ATHLETES YOU SHOULD BE FOLLOWING ON INSTAGRAM. I can’t fap to your watered down narrative.
People wait in line for something that they want. Breweries are in industrial parks. It must have been tough 600 words in to start beating some sweet succor out of the tame ass subject material, but at least at the end of a bottle release you are drunk, enjoyed yourself, and still came out looking like less of a dipshit than the fans at an Animal Collective show. After I read your article, I knew less about beer, was somehow less funny, and my foreskin grew back. Thanks Esquire.
Also, no one gives a shit about drainpours. No one. But since you were reaching harder than Tony Parker to stay in bounds of your derivative ass content, I guess it was a fitting end to your post. Recycled garbage beer content made neither for beer nerds or Esquire’s Aqua Di Gio readerbase: a literary drainpour.
5/5 example of shitty Clear Channel media content, would read again/recommend to friends for lulz