You could read the words of Simone Veil from Gravity and Grace, Let the soul of the man take the whole universe for its body. Let its relation to the whole universe be like that of a collector to his collection, or one of the soldiers who died crying out “Long live the Emperor!” to … Continue reading “I/Thou” Walking Into The World As Such With Simone Weil, Aldo Leopold, Wendell Berry And Thales While Listening to Sviatoslav Richter, Jeremy Denk And Igneous Rocks.
A walk up a hill on Islay to the Kilbride Reservoir, the source of water for Laphroaig’s mash tuns and washbacks. Water scooped into a glass that already looks like a pour of Laphroaig with all the light brown sediment and small dark bits and pieces swimming and churning in peat-flavored H2O. But for now … Continue reading Walking Up A Hill On Islay To A Standing Stone With A Requiem On Earth And On The Moon.
Water, grass, thistle and stones. Rocks. Arriving on Islay means close quarters with quartzite, limestone, slate and shale with many cresting intrusions called sills of metamorphic rock abundant through the southeastern part the island known as Kildalton. As Andrew Jefford writes (and I’ll return to his wonderful prose often from Peat Smoke And Spirit) . … Continue reading A Drinking Man Arrives On Islay, Has A Pour Of Lagavulin, Watches Sea and Stone, Looks At A Thistle And Listens To Robert Fripp’s “Abandonment To Divine Providence.”
Drinking Houston means great beer, spirits and wine procured at Premium Draught and Spec’s. And the great Islay pour I first experienced at Warren’s Inn in Old Market Square downtown, remains the great dram I pour in my library. Ah, Laphroaig! Especially the Cask Strength. Drinking Houston with books has been a mainstay for me … Continue reading Drinking Houston
Oh this tasting and thinking self! We experience it and swear we’re at the heart of who we are, and yet, and yet. But though we may call this thinking self (the soul) substance, as being the ultimate subject of thinking which cannot be further represented as the predicate of another thing, it remains quite … Continue reading Prolegomena To Any Future Single Malt Scotch Whisky.
So, apparently there is a terroir battle between those who smell each soil particle in a glass and those who only smell alcohol and cry “Pour on!” I’m posting Dwight Furrow’s review of the situation, along with Compound Interest’s blog on the aroma of the sea–something particular dear to my heart when I curl up … Continue reading Terroir Battle? You Know What Side I’m On!
The Hermetic science par excellence is alchemy; the famous Emerald Table, the bible of the alchemists, is attributed to Hermes Trismegistus and gives in a mysteriously compact form the philosophy of the All and the One. That which is above is like that which is below . . . . And as all things have … Continue reading “Dad, It Tastes Like Blood!” Alchemy And Briny, Smokey Crustaceans And Suids. Oh My!