I don't know why I bother listening to the news at all. I really don't. For every one "feel good" humanitarian interest blurb in the news there are 25 hate crimes, sex crimes, and other militaristic injustices committed around the world. The one type of crime that always manages to draw my ire immediately are animal welfare "violations" like this dandy out of Wisconsin's own Fox Valley.
To summarize this pathetic display of humans behaving inhumanely, a 34-year old Appleton man hung his dog from his garage's rafters after the dog refused to drink antifreeze-infused water from a bowl. The man also kicked his dog inside the house before taking it to the garage to kill it. Why would he commit such a crime? The damn dog nipped at him! Clearly, pets are for OUR amusement and whims of fancy. If the creature nips (not snaps, bites, lacerates, or otherwise causes harm) at what is no doubt an abusive owner, the owner has the god-given right to kill it.
The man admitted that he had to leave the garage because he didn't want to see the animal suffer, according to the news story. The deceased dog was found in the garage in a garbage bag with its choke collar nearby. Eric Shattuck is being charged with one felony count of animal mistreatment causing death and faces up to a $10,000 fine and a combined 3 and a half years of prison and extended supervision.
This may be the hippie in me surging to the keyboard here, but how ridiculous would it be if this prick hung his wife or child from the garage rafters and then tried disposing of the body in a garbage bag? The story would be all over the national news and he'd be facing a hell of a lot stiffer penalties than a bit of cash and a light prison/probation sentence (no doubt shortened for "good behavior" too).
Until we as a society begin to value an animal's life on the same level as a human life in cases of murder, these pathetic excuses for humans will continue taking out any and all stress or other problems on "man's best friend". Ask anyone who has ever spent five minutes with a family pet; they live to please you and nothing makes them happier. It's wonderful that people like Eric Shattuck are incapable of sharing such a bond and will be out in a year or two to do the same to another of his dogs that dares look at him sideways. He'll learn it good, dadgum!
Some people have the nerve to ask us why we have such little faith in the essential decency of humanity. I guess they don't follow the news.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Ale Asylum: A Review of One's Sanity
Last Friday, I headed west to join my cousin for a trip to Madison's newest brewpub, the Ale Asylum. Sadly, we had heard mixed reviews towards their food menu. Not wanting to chance pairing great beer with a subpar lunch, we first ate at Madison's Midtown Pub. It was a nondescript bar; one that you could easily picture as a cookie-cutter model used in Every Town, USA for the locals who don't like "dark" beers. However, their Inferno Chicken Sandwich was a deal and a half at about $5 for a large sammich and fries (plus a large pickle spear). The "Inferno" aspect of this culinary wonder was very spicy pepperjack cheese and potent cajun seasonings on the grilled chicken breast. I could probably eat one a day for the next 34 or 35 years at least.
After downing a pre-tasting lunch and a bottle each of Great Lakes Nosferatu and Bell's Sparkling Ale, we made the trek across Madison to 3698 Kinsman Blvd. At this location sat an unassuming brown stripmall-looking structure with a small sign in front of one door to let us know we had reached our destination. The Ale Asylum itself was a small place with dark earth tones and various reds to set the mood. We were perplexed at our inability to spot the token television set at the bar. We quickly scanned the room a second and third time before determining that this place was either genius or insane to go sans TV. It is a bold move that forces humans to converse and discuss fine beer and gentlemanly pursuits instead of staring slack-jawed at the talking picture box.
As I approached the bar to place my order, I gazed reverently at the impressive tap list hanging proudly on the wall behind the bar. AA had 9 of their own beers on tap, with names such as Diablo, Ambergeddon, and Disporterly Conduct setting the ominous tone. I quickly ordered a sampler of all 9 beers ($9 for 9 four-ounce glasses on a nice tasting tray). Suddenly, a bearded ruffian sporting a stylish riding cap turned to me with his Belgian snifter and mumbled something.
"Excuse me?" I asked cautiously, unsure whether he would hand me his beer or leap at my vulnerable face.
"The Diablo is good. They're all out of their tripel. That's why I'm drinking this. Goes good with pizza," he slurred.
I chose to ignore his monologue and carried the tray back to the table. Before me lay a veritable spectrum of beer toned colours...from lemon yellow to deep rust to nearly pitch black. I scanned the names of each sample like a child eagerly checking tags on the gifts under the Christmas tree. Disporterly Conduct, Big Slick Stout, Happy Ending, Diablo, Gold Digger, Hatha Weizen, Madtown Nut Brown, Hopalicious, Ambergeddon. This was going to be a fun blur.
We dove in, eagerly sipping and nodding in approval. The favorites quickly became apparent, but I was down on a couple on the beers that just didn't do it for me. The porter and the oatmeal stout rose to the top of my list, winning me over with their roasted decadence and cocoa-smooth luxury. The Belgians (Happy Ending and Diablo) were good Belgian ales that did little to distinguish themselves but were eminently drinkable. Gold Digger was an awesome name for a blonde ale. Unfortunately, it was a blonde ale and thus lost major points in my ratings for its strong corn presence and cloying sweetness.
The Hatha Weizen was a standard German hefe which is now a positive as far as my tastes go. For most of my beersnobship, I've disliked hefes as much as I would dislike a jar of formaldehyde. After enjoying New Glarus's hefe offering (Dancing Man Wheat), I have a new appreciation for the style and consider it to be a well-balanced and refreshing ale. Ale Asylum's Hatha was not in the class of Dancing Man, but still tested well. Anyone who knows me knows I love love love nut brown ales, so Madtown Nut Brown was basically the stronger bigger brother of Newcastle. The APA Hopalicious had the most fragrant Cascade hop nose I've ever experienced. This beer smelled like the sweetest citrus fruit you can imagine. It tasted like Florida. The final of the 9 samplers was Ambergeddon, a hopped-up West Coast amber. Ambergeddon looked like a boring old amber but tasted more bitter than some pale ales that come to mind. If you like strong session beers that don't leave you with a sugary stomach ache, Ambergeddon is the perfect medicine.
All in all, Ale Asylum has some kinks to work out in its metamorphosis from brainchild of a beer lover to a strong brewpub, but it's off to a fantastic start. This place has personality, which greatly aids it on the quest to unseat Madison classics like Great Dane and JT Whitney for craft beer dominance. I saw AA fill up like crazy during the hour I was there. It's obvious that they have already amassed a set of regulars, who will be quite disappointed if its time on the Madison craft scene runs out too soon. I'll drink to that sentiment. No straitjacket needed; here's one inmate more than happy to willingly return to the Asylum.
After downing a pre-tasting lunch and a bottle each of Great Lakes Nosferatu and Bell's Sparkling Ale, we made the trek across Madison to 3698 Kinsman Blvd. At this location sat an unassuming brown stripmall-looking structure with a small sign in front of one door to let us know we had reached our destination. The Ale Asylum itself was a small place with dark earth tones and various reds to set the mood. We were perplexed at our inability to spot the token television set at the bar. We quickly scanned the room a second and third time before determining that this place was either genius or insane to go sans TV. It is a bold move that forces humans to converse and discuss fine beer and gentlemanly pursuits instead of staring slack-jawed at the talking picture box.
As I approached the bar to place my order, I gazed reverently at the impressive tap list hanging proudly on the wall behind the bar. AA had 9 of their own beers on tap, with names such as Diablo, Ambergeddon, and Disporterly Conduct setting the ominous tone. I quickly ordered a sampler of all 9 beers ($9 for 9 four-ounce glasses on a nice tasting tray). Suddenly, a bearded ruffian sporting a stylish riding cap turned to me with his Belgian snifter and mumbled something.
"Excuse me?" I asked cautiously, unsure whether he would hand me his beer or leap at my vulnerable face.
"The Diablo is good. They're all out of their tripel. That's why I'm drinking this. Goes good with pizza," he slurred.
I chose to ignore his monologue and carried the tray back to the table. Before me lay a veritable spectrum of beer toned colours...from lemon yellow to deep rust to nearly pitch black. I scanned the names of each sample like a child eagerly checking tags on the gifts under the Christmas tree. Disporterly Conduct, Big Slick Stout, Happy Ending, Diablo, Gold Digger, Hatha Weizen, Madtown Nut Brown, Hopalicious, Ambergeddon. This was going to be a fun blur.
We dove in, eagerly sipping and nodding in approval. The favorites quickly became apparent, but I was down on a couple on the beers that just didn't do it for me. The porter and the oatmeal stout rose to the top of my list, winning me over with their roasted decadence and cocoa-smooth luxury. The Belgians (Happy Ending and Diablo) were good Belgian ales that did little to distinguish themselves but were eminently drinkable. Gold Digger was an awesome name for a blonde ale. Unfortunately, it was a blonde ale and thus lost major points in my ratings for its strong corn presence and cloying sweetness.
The Hatha Weizen was a standard German hefe which is now a positive as far as my tastes go. For most of my beersnobship, I've disliked hefes as much as I would dislike a jar of formaldehyde. After enjoying New Glarus's hefe offering (Dancing Man Wheat), I have a new appreciation for the style and consider it to be a well-balanced and refreshing ale. Ale Asylum's Hatha was not in the class of Dancing Man, but still tested well. Anyone who knows me knows I love love love nut brown ales, so Madtown Nut Brown was basically the stronger bigger brother of Newcastle. The APA Hopalicious had the most fragrant Cascade hop nose I've ever experienced. This beer smelled like the sweetest citrus fruit you can imagine. It tasted like Florida. The final of the 9 samplers was Ambergeddon, a hopped-up West Coast amber. Ambergeddon looked like a boring old amber but tasted more bitter than some pale ales that come to mind. If you like strong session beers that don't leave you with a sugary stomach ache, Ambergeddon is the perfect medicine.
All in all, Ale Asylum has some kinks to work out in its metamorphosis from brainchild of a beer lover to a strong brewpub, but it's off to a fantastic start. This place has personality, which greatly aids it on the quest to unseat Madison classics like Great Dane and JT Whitney for craft beer dominance. I saw AA fill up like crazy during the hour I was there. It's obvious that they have already amassed a set of regulars, who will be quite disappointed if its time on the Madison craft scene runs out too soon. I'll drink to that sentiment. No straitjacket needed; here's one inmate more than happy to willingly return to the Asylum.
Welcome
Good evening to all,
My name is Russell. You can thank whichever higher power you believe in that a shared destiny led you, dear reader, down the path to enlightenment. Your seemingly innocent and casual navigation to "Soul Searching With Stout" is the first step on your journey towards nirvana. Here you will find musings on the topics of Wisconsin and national sports, the craft beer industry, video games, and other eclectic thoughts that pop into my head.
My true reason for creating this blog is to explore and hopefully unleash my thus-untapped vast creativity. I drive 45 minutes to work and 45 minutes from work every day of the week. During that time, I have much time to contemplate some of the more esoteric questions of the universe. Other days, I consider why I even spend any time watching professional wrestling. My time spent viewing rasslin' is nearly nonexistent since high school, but still. The question remains as to why I voluntarily choose to subject myself to such a hot dog sale.
Stay tuned for more ramblings from yours truly. Buy the ticket, take the ride.
My name is Russell. You can thank whichever higher power you believe in that a shared destiny led you, dear reader, down the path to enlightenment. Your seemingly innocent and casual navigation to "Soul Searching With Stout" is the first step on your journey towards nirvana. Here you will find musings on the topics of Wisconsin and national sports, the craft beer industry, video games, and other eclectic thoughts that pop into my head.
My true reason for creating this blog is to explore and hopefully unleash my thus-untapped vast creativity. I drive 45 minutes to work and 45 minutes from work every day of the week. During that time, I have much time to contemplate some of the more esoteric questions of the universe. Other days, I consider why I even spend any time watching professional wrestling. My time spent viewing rasslin' is nearly nonexistent since high school, but still. The question remains as to why I voluntarily choose to subject myself to such a hot dog sale.
Stay tuned for more ramblings from yours truly. Buy the ticket, take the ride.
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