I wanted to fill this page with a big, highbrow piece on why bars are so interesting and special. I had a hard time articulating it, and why bother? Everybody who goes to bars already understands it on a subconscious level. Socializing and booze, at a convenient neighborhood location? What’s not to like? Besides, why do I need to explain myself to the likes of you? I’m in a bad mood, so instead of philosophizing about it like I’m Plato or something, I’ll just yell at everyone who thinks booze is the worst thing ever.
Let’s start with the traditionalist crowd, just because I’m seeing this behavior more frequently these days. You guys have some high-profile nerds in your camp like Jordan Peterson and Andrew Huberman who love to harp on the dangers of booze. I like these guys, don’t get me wrong, but their fans are just as bad at thinking for themselves as any other ideologues, so they take the ALCOHOL BAD meme as doctrine. Suddenly it’s fucking everywhere. ALCOHOL BAD has become inexorably linked to self-improvement and I can’t get away from the griping about how much better everyone would be if booze was gone forever. Today’s rebellious youth won’t even touch the stuff. I remember when we had to steal whatever we could find and hide it in Gatorade bottles, it was a thrill! What a difference 10 years makes.
That doesn’t mean I think the libtard mainstream has it figured out. Oh, no. You guys are next. Have you forgotten the time bars were shut down because you guys were scared of germs? I haven’t forgotten at all. I’m not even angry at the out-of-touch politicians on this one, I’m angry at YOU. The regular, everyday people who couldn’t wait to waggle your sterile-gloved fingers at everyone. You didn’t stop at bars, you went after sports, bowling alleys, parks, even private parties, foaming at the mouth every time three people shared a room. Even when everything opened up, YOU were the ones tattling on us for wearing our masks wrong. YOU were the ones checking papers at the door. You were so thorough that the Thought Police didn’t even have to show up for work, and you were dead wrong. I haven’t heard a single fucking apology from any of you. You put every bartender out of work for months, yet you show up at the bars 7 nights a week without a shred of guilt on your conscience.
Two sides, same coin. Across the great divide, the warring tribes can unite in their fear of alcohol; but nobody is without vice. Maybe you prefer marijuana, heroin, gambling, pornography, or sugar. That’s just fine, pick your poison. Every one of these things has more downside than upside if you want to get technical, but we all justify using with one excuse or another. You aren’t special because you chose Twizzlers over beer.
Your choice of vice says a lot about your personality. I like booze. I like conversations with strangers that stretch into the wee hours of the night. I like having a relaxing intermediary between work and home. I like posting up at a table with the boys, watching the glass pile up to the ceiling as we laugh our balls off. I even make my living at bars. I suppose I could do all of these things without alcohol, but I have yet to find a convenient place where sober people go for the sole purpose of conversation. Except, you know, church, which is exactly what the tradcon revivalists want.
We’ve left the Information Age and entered the Dunning-Kruger age, where we have all the answers and everything older than 1990 was an unenlightened mistake. Beer goes back at least 13,000 years. Taverns have been around since Mesopotamian times. You talk about the dangers of alcohol as if they were just discovered this decade, and think that only now we have the strength as a society to curb that wicked substance forever. Shut up.
Great, now I’m all worked up. I need a drink. I’m off to Spud’s Tavern, my favorite watering hole. Maybe I’ll see you there. Stay dangerous, my friends.
-RJ
Spud media 