Thank You!

Tomorrow I will publish my 500th officially graded whisky.  Yes, there have been an additional two dozen whiskies (or so) that I've given only letter grades to.  And yes, there have been fewer than five hundred single malt reports.  But still, 500.  That's a very round number.

This is still my best drawing ever.

These whisky reviews would not exist without you.  My content exists thanks to my friends with whom I do sample swaps.  My content exists thanks to those friends who randomly send me goodies from their collections.  My content exists thanks to local whisky groups and the good people I meet at events.  But most of all, my content exists because I have readers.  Stories do not exist without an audience, so the simple fact that you voluntarily come to my site to read about my ongoing whisky journey means that it exists on a more significant plane than just notes in my eleven whisky notebooks stacked in the corner of my desk.

While I would love to write more deeply considered meditations on the whisky industry (and/or anything other than whisky), being a stay-at-home father has made that more challenging than before.  I don't drink during the day, I don't blog during the day, and I rarely tweet or facebook during the day.  My recreation in the evening is to plop down in my whisky chair -- it's not made of whisky, yet -- with an ounce (or two?) of whisky, put on some jazz, avant-garde, or classical music that hopefully matches the drink and then attempt to document my discoveries on paper.  On the weekends I type up my scribbles, add in the terrible humor, a few photos, and use a random number generator for the final rating.

Next year will bring some changes, all good, some of which I hope to share here.  I have most of my reviews already scheduled for the next four months, though I'm still sorting out the extent to which I'll review non-whisky spirits.  As I mentioned in an earlier post, a full sequel to What Was the Scotch Boom is on the docket for the new year, unless the SWA chickens out and doesn't release their full report.

In the meantime, welcome to the new divingforpearlsblog.com!  Look for Whisky 500 to be published tomorrow, and Whisky 1000 by 2019...

NEEDED: Whisky Consumer Advocacy

I began 2013 as a fawning fan of all things whisky.  I ended the year angry.  Much of the latter part of the year I spent internalizing way too much frustration.  But I'm not keeping quiet this year because when it comes to whisky, though the liquid is fun much of the rest is not.

There’s a lot being written about whisky both online and in print.  Most of it ultimately serves as promotional material for large corporations.  Even when the crustiest and most cynical of us bloggers write, “Hey, this is pretty good” about a whisky, we’re helping get more bottles sold.  But saying something nice about something we like isn’t the problem.  The issue at hand is the widespread regurgitation and propagation of marketing material at the expense of factual information and independence.  Plenty of folks are writing to support the whisky industry, but how many are considering the readers and consumers?

Let’s take a step back for a sec.  There are many categories of people writing about whisky, each with different influences in play.

Firstly, we have independent bottlers, like Single Cask Nation and Caskstrength.  Then we have retailers, like K&L Wines, who also occasionally do their own independent bottling.  These first two groups have a vested interest in sales.  That’s their income, it’s their job.  As long as they clearly disclose to their readership their involvement with the industry, then it is up to the reader to consider how much that involvement influences the writers' reviews or opinions on the business.

Next, there are the paid writers.  Their numbers are few.  Paid writing gigs are difficult to come by in any industry and whisky is no exception.  Sometimes these (mostly) men publish books, but more frequently they write articles for a handful of whisky journals.  While books don’t require outright advertising by whiskymakers in their pages, the journals do.  Those print ads can be the cause of healthy skepticism in a reader.  On one page he will see an advertisement for Glenmorangie, then five pages later a loving article about Master Morangie Bill Lumsden, then twelve pages later a rave review of the newest limited edition GlenMo.  While I don’t believe writers are being forced to sculpt their content, journals (and books) will have a difficult time being published if the industry that creates their subject matter experiences a steep decline or is no longer deemed exciting.  So while the writers may not purposely write things to keep the industry zooming along, it is in the publishers’ interest that whisky revenues barrel ahead.

Finally, there’s the vast blogosphere.  There are hundreds of us writing and posting tasting notes.  Some of us have direct connections to the industry, most of us have none.  Some of us get free review samples directly from the companies, most of us do not.  Some of us shmooze industry types, some of us attend free tastings, some of us resell our bottles in the secondary market.  Some of us do none of those things.  But those things we do, those social or financial choices, must be disclosed to our readerships in order to give everyone what he or she needs in order to consume our content in an informed fashion.

Three months ago, MAO from My Annoying Opinions critiqued the blogging community both privately in the Whisky Bloggers Facebook group and publicly on his blog.  He challenged us by saying that all of our warm “fuzzy” buddy-buddy-ness with each other, and with whisky professionals, had created a “(soft) corruption”, and that any sort of “spirit of critique” no longer existed.  He was roundly shouted down and labeled a “troll”.  Perhaps people took issue with his tone, as he minces no words.  Perhaps people were very comfortable in their give-and-receive whisky lifestyle.  Perhaps people felt like they and their friends were being criticized as human beings.  Unfortunately the one blogger who answered the challenge and attempted some public self-deconstruction took all the heat for sins that have been more heavily exploited by others.  The discussion turned absolutist and staunchly partisan and ultimately everyone went back to his and her Twitter Tastings.  MAO's original reasonable point was left neglected, and I was left concerned that most of us couldn’t bear to spare any meditation on the matter.

Those who say that blogging is merely a masturbatory endeavor are either deluded, in denial, or protecting something.  Only masturbation is masturbatory.  Once your blog post is "published" an audience other than you, the author, reads it.  Sometimes it is three people.  Sometimes it is 300,000.  Your words appear on someone else's screen and exist in that person's life.

People buy bottles of whisky after they read our reviews.  Yes, even some of my readers have purchased things influenced by something I’ve written.  Even I, a reader who hates buying blind, have bought things after seeing a number of positive reviews by bloggers I like.  Whisky is getting very expensive and there’s a whole lot of marketing blather out there, so folks are looking for reviews that appear at least somewhat independent.

I’ll frame that last paragraph another way.  For those bloggers who are posting reviews of whisky provided directly from brand ambassadors or other industry employees, please disclose in your review that the whisky was provided directly from a brand ambassador or another industry employee.  And even more importantly, I urge you to consider your readers when writing a final assessment of that free whisky, because that whisky you received for free is not free to your readers.

If you’re posting a 90-point/4.5-star/A-rated review about your free whisky and you yourself are not running out to buy a bottle of it with your own money, then I encourage you to tell your readers why.  Those folks inspired by your words will need to spend their own income to get that same whisky.

And to all bloggers, before you continue perpetuating popular whisky tales, go in and do some research.  Give us facts.  For instance, here's one issue: people writing extensively or repetitively that whisky prices are going up due to shortages caused by massive whisky sales over the last several years.  There are tables and PDFs available via the SWA and Shanken News Dailey and Drinks Business Review as well as other (often free) spirits news sites demonstrating that growth of volume sales has not risen consistently from year to year nor has volume growth been consistent across all brands.  I am not denying that whisky revenues have been up, nor that volume sales were very good in 2013.  Just give some numbers and facts before contributing to the scarcity fears stoked by companies that stand to profit off of fear-based purchasing and the resulting price bloat.  If your research supports the scarcity story, then that’s fine, give us the info.

I also encourage independent bloggers to challenge the industry when their tactics either mislead consumers or blur the truth.  There are the small things cropping up on a regular basis.  For instance, when "news" broke that Diageo will be releasing a new range of Mortlach single malt, it was revealed that the entry malt will be named Rare Old.  As an entry malt, a non-age-statement entry malt, it is almost certainly neither rare nor old.  But nonetheless they named it that and it is purported to be priced in the JW-Platinum-$90-range.  Or, how about the catalyst to my current discontent?  The Glenlivet Alpha.  There was an almost total lack of comment on the cynicism behind the abandon-all-ye-brains-and-wallets approach to the Alpha, a glorified version of the Nadurra but at thrice the price and with a lower ABV to match.  Rather, quite a portion of the blogosphere seemed to fall over itself to get a sample and encourage the mad rush to buy into a zero-disclosure ugly marketing stunt.  Meanwhile, the Rare Old and Alpha lead to another concern on a much larger scale: the growing spate of NAS releases means even less disclosure about what's inside the product consumers are buying.  Why should we not question the industry's fear of informed consumers?  If we don't question, then who will?

This is my plea for all of us to maintain a level of independence and keep our readers in mind.  I used to have 40+ blogs on my newsfeed.  Now I have 10, and a couple of those I keep on the feed just to piss me off.  Yes, whisky is a tremendous and glorious thing.  But not every whisky is tremendous and glorious and excellent and a rip-roaring rollercoaster thrill ride.  If every single review you write is about an amazing whisky, then I stopped reading your blog.  If you never site where you've sourced your whisky, then I stopped reading your blog.  If your blog actively encouraged scarcity fear, then I stopped reading your blog.  If your blog made generalizations that only served to benefit the industry, then I stopped reading your blog.  All it would have taken to keep this reader around would have been some background information about your whisky and some facts to back up your stories.  These elements lead me to believe you have thought about your readers before you clicked Publish.

So where the hell did this post come from?

Stop and consider for a moment what you value as a drinker and what the industry values.  Do those values match up?  As a whisky consumer, I would like good whisky I can buy.  Publicly-traded whisky producers would like to sell as much of a product at as high of a price and at as low of a cost as they can.  I don’t like paying more for less.  In order to satisfy their balance sheets and investors (which they value more than their employees, customers, and product quality), and to thus maintain rising growth, corporations need me to pay more for less.  You see how these things don’t really match up?

I believe many of the actual distillers and blending teams are working their tails off trying to create a product they can be proud of, often with ingredients of lessening quality.  But because most companies desire constant revenue growth above all else – thus all of the lawyers, lobbyists, and marketing divisions – selling a brand is what’s important.  So what if they lose a customer like me?  There are new malleable customers to be had, everywhere.  The lose-a-customer-gain-a-customer approach is not the best way to do business, but the tobacco industry got by on it for years.

If you think I’m a commie dick for my anti-corporate ravings, that’s fine.  You won’t be the first.  But at least think about your readers, your fellow drinkers.  There are enough mechanisms in place to support the whisky industry.  Why not recognize the rest of us, the humans?

Nothing we, the blogosphere, write exists in a vacuum.  Our rave reviews can sell bottles, which may eventually influence prices.  Our perpetuation of marketing blurbs (whether fact or myth) can sell bottles, which may eventually influence prices.  I doubt my little bloggie here has much influence on its own, but it is part of the larger blogosphere and sometimes contributes to The Whisky Talk.  In fact, I think half my readers are my fellow bloggers, which is why I wrote this.  Diving for Pearls has been far from exemplary in the past and should be held to the same standards I just wrote.  So here are some disclosures:

• 96% of my reviews have been from sample swaps, sample purchases, gifts from friends outside the industry, or my own bottles.  The remaining percentage includes whiskies I’ve consumed at ambassador/rep-led free tastings.  As of the beginning of 2013, I stopped rating whiskies consumed at these events.  I will make an effort in every review to reference where the whisky came from.  If I don’t, please call my attention to it.

• I do know a few brand ambassadors and distributor reps.  I say this not as “I’m kind of a big deal”, but instead there are a few folks from The Dreaded Industry whom I find cool to chat and drink with.  None of these people have requested any reviews of their products.

• I actually wouldn’t mind working in the industry in some fashion.  In fact, I’ve snooped around about a few jobs.  But since I socialize and network terribly, that’s probably cost me some employment.  And I’m pretty sure I’ve written a couple things that potential employers wouldn’t be terribly excited about.

I would like to see a strong smart independent whisky blogosphere.  That would be fun.  I would also like some good whisky I can buy.  That would be fun too.  These are things within our reach.  So, let's all work to bring the fun back in 2014, okay?

Syd Field

In the autumn and winter of 1999, I had the privilege of attending Syd Field’s private screenwriting class at his home.  Like many young screenwriters, I was greatly influenced by his books during my early attempts at the profession, so this was an honor and a great opportunity to hone the craft with one of the master gurus.  Each session consisted of about six writers sitting around Syd’s dining room table, reviewing the pages written the previous week.  All the other writers who attended were of my parents’ age or older.  I was the kid.

After reading his books, I wasn’t sure what to expect from his personality.  From his writing I gleaned that he knew the mechanisms behind excellent script structure possibly better than anyone, and he was always able to walk the reader through each part, step by step.  And that was how his books had helped me.  They take a potentially overwhelming project and divide it into smaller and smaller parts, and then show how each part affects another.  His Workbook had been indispensable for my previous screenplay, so I reread that book again before attending his class.

The man whose work had influenced entertainment industry development departments for decades and now greeted his students with snacks and bottled water in his home every week was not a Hollywood guy, not a Type A, not a producer, not a snake oil salesman.  Syd was soft-spoken and very calm, a generous and sweet man.  In his personal life he loved to meditate and was, at the time, studying Hindu and Buddhist texts.

I had thought the whole class would be about structure, but instead we focused on characters and the human element behind each creation.  But the true lesson I took from his class was a lot larger than anything to do with screenwriting.

The script I was working on was about a crappy schlock journalist who took a last-chance assignment to uncover the truth behind a well-known messianic cult figure.  The assignment starts to awry right from the start when he discovers his ex-girlfriend love-of-his-life is now the messiah’s lover.  I was 21 years old at the time, the age wherein one clearly knows everything about the world and humans and God.  So my script was going to be a serious exposé, not on the messiah figure but on the miserable failure that was my main character.  And I struggled with the damn thing immediately.

Syd had me take a step back and spend a week doing writing exercises from the point of view of my main character and his ex-girlfriend.  It was a way to find their voices and personalities, and thus find out why they do things.  I had trouble cracking this part as well.  After a couple of false starts, I started writing about the terrible sex lives these two people had together and separately; the terrible stuff in the sack that screwed them up in their future relationships.  I thought it was sad and revealing, and I tried to make it a little witty, because bad sex is funny in hindsight.

I was nervous about reading it out loud to complete strangers and Syd Field.  So I chose to go last in the class with my pages.  When it was my turn, I decided to boldly dive in and not apologize for something I was already kind of regretting.   At first I heard some titters from the audience, then some chuckles, and then by the end I had to keep pausing because the laughter had risen to a roar.

My arms were buzzing with goosebumps.  I had never attempted anything comical before; all of my writing had been young-man’s self-serious DRAMA.  This project was going to be another heart-wrenching deconstruction of male delusion.  But because I could not figure out how to express this in melodramatic format, I took a look at my characters’ sources of failure and mixed it in some dick jokes.   And it worked.

Syd said to me, “Why try to keep forcing your story into a mold and tone that don’t fit?  Your characters’ voices clearly work the way you just wrote them.  The soul of comedy is failure and disappointment.  It’s okay to make people laugh, you don’t have to be serious all the time.”  I went home that night and saw my previous three screenplays in an entirely new light: how self-important, serious, and tragic I had tried to be.  I had always liked making girls smile, why not broaden my scope?  That’s of course the young man’s response.  The real lesson was I had to learn how to laugh at myself, at my failures and disappointments.  Sitting around moping about them and then weaving those feelings into screenplays was only going to perpetuate my problems.

Did that messiah script succeed?  In the sense that I learned something about myself, yes.  Or at least that seed was planted.  The lesson is something I’m still learning today.  One doesn’t usually find that level of personal clarity in a screenwriting class.  But this wasn’t a normal class and Syd wasn’t a normal guy.  We all wrestled with the characters in our stories for that handful of months.  Structure-Structure-Structure wasn’t the value.  The person, the voice, and the Why were what mattered.  And the kid in the class learned to not take himself so seriously.

Syd Field passed from this world yesterday.  His family, his wife, Aviva, and his friends were there by his side.  Though I can’t say I knew him very well personally, I do know how he approached life spiritually.  So I’m certain he saw this end as but another beginning.  Thank you, Syd.  May peace be upon you.

Two BIG milestones for Diving With Pearls

Judging by Google's two blog metric resources, Diving With Pearls has surpassed either 50,000 pageviews or 120,000 pageviews.  I'll go by the former, since the latter likely includes the swarm of spambots that circle this page every day.

To my human readers, THANK YOU!  Thank you for visiting and returning.  The online universe is enormous, I am very grateful that you choose to stop by this little corner of it to see what's going on.

To those who have found this site via Google searches for Johnnie Walker Black Label, Chivas Regal, Talisker Storm, Glenfiddich 12, Katy Perry's boobs, Justin Bieber, surprised kittens, Barack Osama, or Hankey Bannister, welcome!  Most of those subjects will never be posted about again, sorry. :(

A lot of change is going on here in my offline life.  I have resigned from my job.  There's about a week and a half left of it before I start a new chapter.  I'm committing to my writing career full time (or part time once I get a part time paying job).  While that may provide more flexibility for the blog, my financial means will be changing a little bit.  This is part of the reason I've reduced my whisky bottle purchases to 2-or-so-per-month for the last three months.  Now I have to stick to that approach.  Speaking of which...

After last week's Clynelish reports, this blog finds itself awaiting WHISK(E)Y #200.  Whisky #100 was a fun one in that it had allowed me to see how a single malt and its drinker changes over a year's time.  Whisky #101 was just plum serendipitous.  Number 200 will be something a little different.

With finances being a little tighter and whisky prices continually bloating will this blog see whisky 300?  ABSOLUTELY!  400?  Probably.  Going forward, I'm going to keep trying to group the reports into Taste Offs or verticals or themes since that's more educational (and fun) for you and I.

I'm sticking to my intention of easing non-whisky subjects back in, but, frankly, at the end of a difficult day I don't want to talk about anything but whisky and sleep.  (There's a joke in there somewhere about a sleep blog being a real snooze, but I won't go there.)  I'm excited to see what the new life will bring and I promise to write about my new successes.  My best wishes to all of you!  Stay tuned for #200...

Why We Blog

Yesterday, David Driscoll -- one of my favorite spirits bloggers, K&L Wines spirits buyer, and Single Cask saint -- posted an entry entitled "The Future of Internet Whisky Blogging".  David isn't one to curtail his feelings and opinions, which is bold when one is doing business with the very companies one's critiquing.  He's been known to ruffle feathers and state unpopular opinions, so the K&L Spirits Journal can sometimes be a bracing read.

"The Future of Internet Whisky Blogging" ruffled my feathers gave me indigestion.  David was stating an opinion I not only didn't share, but I felt as if I was being called out.  Rather than using this site as a gripe machine, I decided to email him directly with my dissent.  He responded promptly via email, then posted a follow-up entry on the subject.

In the original post, David postulated that there are too many whisky blogs, with too much repetition, thus creating a staleness which was endangering the usefulness of whisky blogs.  He questioned the intent of whisky bloggers in general, issuing a challenge that we all must change or risk irrelevance.

Before continuing, I urge you to read the post here.  It's important to see the entire picture.

---

Here is my response (with links) :

Dear David,

I want to start by saying I have an enormous amount of respect for you.  The Single Cask work you and DO’G have done is incredibly generous.  In person, you are warm, brilliant, and honest.  Your blog entries are tremendous; in fact I am quite jealous of your well-written, educational, and candid posts.  But I disagree on a major theme in your recent post about whisky blogging.

Here’s the first paragraph that caught my attention:

Do we really need this much information about whisky, however? Is it filling a need? Why do so many people feel compelled to start a weblog about alcohol and share those opinions with the world? Most of it is pure ego, which is why I was ready to give it up a while back. My ego got me into this game and it was making me write things to boost its self-absorbed nature. Sure, K&L didn't have anyone writing about spirits so it did serve the customer base a purpose, but that wasn't what motivated me to do it. I wanted to create a reputation for myself and that seemed like a good way to do it. Anyone who writes a blog about whisky is in the same boat. Anyone who tells you they're not is lying.I'm not saying that blogs written by egoists aren't useful (because I think this blog can be useful at times), but I am saying that the rise of the ego is beginning to replace actual news and journalism. It's not much different than the twenty-hour news cycle – one hour of actual news, twenty-three hours of people talking about that one hour.

Let me introduce myself.  I am Michael Kravitz.  My blog Diving for Pearls is amongst that blur of names on Sku’s blog list.  I am a whisky blogger by accident.  My site was originally started in 2007 to keep my friends and family up to date when I was moving back to LA from the East Coast.  I posted mostly about personal stuff, film (my educational background), music (not my educational background), travel, and maybe a little bit about baseball.  Those posts drifted to a stop in 2008.

I restarted the blog in 2011 to chronicle my (then) new career as a full-time writer.  That career didn’t go as planned, so instead of complaining every day I went back to posting about the stuff I enjoyed (music, movies, sports, etc.).  The newest addition was The Single Malt Report.  I’ve loved whisk(e)y for some time and thought it would be a hoot to do little reviews once a week.  Somehow, through the miracle of Google algorithms, people started finding my site.  Many more people than I’d ever expected.  And they were coming for the whisky.

This was an unexpected joy.  People were reading my stuff!  So the whisky posts took over.  As a number of things went sour in my offline life, it was comforting to have folks from around the world regularly tuning in to read my generally unprofessional whisky musings.

Soon, the whisky blogging started to become more personal.  I started talking to readers, bloggers, and other malt geeks who were trying to break through the cold separation of the online life.  On Twitter some of these folks started a hashtag #WhiskyFabric.  On Facebook, the Whisky Bloggers group began.  We realize we all have so much to learn, so we share whisky news, knowledge, and samples.  Sometimes we talk about our families and work.  I’ve even gotten to meet people (in person) I would never have known had I not whisky blogged on Diving for Pearls.

Though I’d like to speak for everyone I’ve met, I shouldn’t, so I’ll speak for myself.  I’m not in it to build my brand.  I’m in it for the communication, people, and sensory exploration.  I know you truck on bigger roads than I do.  So perhaps you see things I don’t.  If some currency has evolved via Reputation, then that means there is a whisky blogging Scene.  I suppose I haven’t been invited to the Scene, which is okay with me.  I’ve found that most Scenes bring with them a sense of decay since the members of the Scene aren’t actually contributing anything.  Instead it’s a bunch of preening, rehashing, or oneupsmanship.

I can tell by your post you’re reaching a level of whisky-blog-reading burnout.  In the current whisky blogging world, there is certainly repetition in subject matter.  That’s one of the reasons I’ve resisted commenting on the big news stories.  People with better insight and deeper knowledge often beat me to it with better content.  And yes, sometimes there seems to be a bit of a glut in the number of sites.  I’ve stopped reading about half of my usual blog roll, specifically those blogs that seem to be industry-cuddle-happy.

But I still go to my usual blog haunts (your site is one of them) with the same joy as I had two years ago.  The Internet is an endless lifeless ocean, but great sites run by great people provide little islands of recreation.  Since I enjoy those little respites throughout my day, I will try to continue to run my own island to the best of my ability while working a 60-hour-a-week desk job.

Finally, per your paragraph:

Back in 2009, you couldn't be up to date with the whisky scene unless you were reading the whisky blogs. Nowadays, I'm not sure there's much more they can offer besides breaking news. The blogs have always been there to help educate newer consumers about the alcohol they're drinking, but there's so much information out there now that everything just seems like a rehash. We're recycling stories, travelogues, ideas, opinions, and rants like Lady Gaga recycles old Madonna schticks. There's nothing underground or cool about a whisky blog anymore because there's nothing underground about whisky. Whisky is the hottest thing out there. It's being pushed and sold at max capacity. It's so cool we can't get enough of it. You can't stay relevant, however, by following the current trend. You stay relevant by spotting the next one before it arrives.

What we can try to offer is the human experience.  Corporations can’t do this, no matter how much they pay for marketing.  Personal experience is relevant, chasing trends is not.  If a blogger does the latter, I promise you he’ll lose to someone doing the former.  And if many bloggers are really shedding their voices to grab for trends, then The Scene has begun and Whisky Blogging is indeed in decay. 

But I don’t see this in the blogs I read and I’m doing my best to keep my voice.  I have nothing to gain by building a whisky blogging reputation, so I’m not trying to.  You can call me a liar for MANY other things, but not for this.

Please continue sharing your voice on your spirits blog.  Reputation or no reputation, you’ve established something great there.

Yours,

Michael Kravitz

---

And if you think that was long, you should have seen the first draft.  Okay, no you shouldn't.

If any of y'all think any element of my letter is untrue or exaggeration, please let me know.  I've been to known to get a little dramatic when arguing my side, and thus in the process choosing passion over facts.

---

David and I then traded a couple emails and with my permission he included my entire letter in his follow-up post, "Lighting a Fire".  I encourage you to read it, because (ignoring my letter) there's important stuff in there.

Ultimately, David and I agree.  If we whisky bloggers are abandoning the things we enjoy and instead writing what we think we're supposed to write, if we are chasing leads, if building our own brands becomes more important than who we actually are, then we have no future.  People, their lives, and their experiences are what's important.

I realize there are a lot of high-falutin' things in this post -- from the self-important title, to the posts referencing other posts referencing letters referencing posts -- but I'm only going there because I like whisky blogs.  I don't think we are in a state of decay, but I also want to make sure we never get to that point.

Thank you, David, for lighting a fire.

The Tale of Talisker Storm

On the 14th floor of Headquarters, Dale and Dean, two Diageo marketing associates, stand side by side urinating in the Men's room while sipping Smirnoff on the rocks.
         Dean says to Dale, "So we got the green light to bottle those six-year-old Talisker malt leftovers that Bell's, Buchanan's, and VAT 69 rejected."
         Dale responds, "Ah yes, the whole rejuvenated cask pitch.  Good work on that one."
         "Good work to you, sir, for convincing them to sell it for more than the 10 year old.  Unique, bold, vivacious in fact."
         "Like the whisky!"
         "Whatever you say, man."  They laugh, clinking their glasses, pissing into urinals chiseled from Rosebank distillery stone.
         Dale asks, "So what are we going to call this crap?"
         Dean says, "Well, it's spirit heavy and a little rough.  And it's from Scotland.  Their weather's shit and they're proud of it.  We can name it after something stormy."
         Dale puts his drink down and taps the urinal-mounted touchscreen.  He goes to Google.com.  Starts a search.  "Okay, something stormy.  Something stormy.  Bowmore has their Tempest.  Cutty Sark has their Storm...  That's it!  Talisker Storm!"
         The urinals flush in unison, gallons of the River Tay gushing down into the sewer.
         "Brilliant!  I'll drop them an email with the name.  This should make all the whiny discerning whisky geeks happy now that they're getting another Talisker single malt."
         Dean and Dale stride towards the bathroom door.
         "Eh, fuck 'em.  They've never been our target audience anyway."
         Dean's iPhone dings.  "Ah. Gotta go. They're installing marble flooring in the shitter at our Brora condo."
         They exit the bathroom without washing their hands.

Jim Murray's Whisky Bible

The very existence of Jim Murray provides a quiet quandary to many anoraks.  The scores from Murray's annual whisky "Bible" are touted by distilleries, blenders, bottlers, and distributors whose products are commended within the tome.  Those same people make not a mention of Murray if their scores aren't stellar.  His awards arrive in press releases, which in turn cause many bottles to instantly vanish from shelves, often purchased not by whisky enthusiasts but by those whose buying patterns are swayed by public announcements.  His annual winners frequently cause a bit of head scratching industry-wide (see Ballantine's 17yr, Old Pulteney 21yr, one batch of Ardbeg Uigeadail sold in Canada, etc.).  His anti-sulphur campaign, though passionate, seems to be fought by an army of one.  He has consulted for a number of companies, some of whose whiskies score quite well.  This all results in an otherwise well-informed "Bible" reader to be unsure what a score of 92.5 really means for that bottle he or she is considering buying blindly.

Murray writes in grandiose emotional (sometimes carnal, oft metaphysic) phrasings some readers have labelled "maltoporn".  He champions blends when most writers are praising only single malts.  Producers worldwide send him samples of everything from 3 year old Indian blends to new make bourbon to 70 year old Speyside malts.  And he may have tried more individual whiskies than any other human in history.

What perplexes me most about Murray is his self-celebratory, self-referential, self-promotional writing style.  To wit:

From Redbreast 12yr Cask Strength (2013, p. 267):
To think, had I not included Redbreast in Jim Murray's Irish Whiskey Almanac back in 1994, after it had already been unceremoniously scrapped and discontinued, while championing the then entirely unknown Irish Pot Still cause this brand would no longer have been with us. If I get run over by a bus tomorrow, at least I have that as a tick when St Peter is totting up the plusses and minuses... And with the Cask Strength, he might even give me two...

Who writes that?  That's not even a humble-brag.  (And this is after devoting another paragraph to this subject a few pages earlier.)  Even if it were true that he single-handedly saved Irish Pot Still whiskey, what sort of already-successful person pronounces that in a whiskey review?  Should that praise not be left to others?  Others should thank you, you shouldn't thank yourself when speaking about others.

Then there's the name-dropping and strutting:

From Glenfiddich 50yr (2013, p. 112)
William Grant blender David Stewart, whom I rank above all other blenders on this planet, has known me long and well enough to realise that the surrounding hype, with this being the most expensive whisky ever bottled at 10,000GBP or a 360GBP a pour, would bounce off me like a pebble from a boulder. "Honestly, David," he told my chief researcher with a timorous insistence, "please tell Jim I really think this isn't too oaky." ...... For the record, David, next time someone asks you how good this whisky is, just for once do away with the Ayeshire niceness installed by generations of very nice members of the Stewart family and tell them, "Actually, it's bloody brilliant if I say so myself! And I don't give a rat's bollocks what Murray thinks."

Is there whisky in there somewhere?

From Glengoyne 17yr (2013, p. 117)
Some of the guys at Glengoyne think I'm nuts. They couldn't get their head around the 79 I gave it last time. And they will be shaking my neck not my hand when they see the score here...

Ardmore Traditional Cask (2013, p. 35)
"Jim. Any ideas on improving the flavour profile?" asked the nice man from Ardmore distillery when they were originally launching the thing.

 Ardbeg Supernova (2013, p. 32)
...apparently this was called "Supernova" in tribute of how I once described a highly peated Ardbeg.

This is just from flipping through pages randomly.

As a writer, I don't understand the need for detailing one's importance when speaking of spirits.  Reading the reviews becomes like listening to hip-hop lyrics, full of self-grandeur.

I know he has thirty years and thousands of whiskies on me but his "Bible" makes me want to say, "Damn it Jim, you're a great writer, let your skills shine by writing about whisky and others will recognize your brilliance.  Otherwise, how are we to take you seriously?  Because when you pat yourself on the back, you motivate others to publicly contradict you."

I do not question his expertise.  Nor I have received any proof of dishonesty in his grading.  I admire his drive against substandard oak maturation and have no doubt that casks are not what they used to be.  He LOVES whisk(e)y, doling out 90+ ratings readily and highlighting the best elements of the 80+ entries.  I enjoy his unique style in so many of his reviews.  For example:

Port Charlotte PC 6 (2013, p. 68)
ohhhhh... arrrrrrhh... mmmmmmmmm... oh the peat, the peat... yessssssss... oh my god... mmmmmmm... ohhhhhh... first you get the smoky... ooooooohhhhh... arrrrrrr... then the sweeter... mmmmmmm... 

If you've had a good Port Charlotte you know what he's talking about.  Then, on the flip side:

Gordon & MacPhail Rare Vintage Glenlivet 1961 (2013, p. 128)
A very dear friend and colleague told me today that his mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. It was terribly sad news, and something she understood and accepted with fortitude, magnanimity and a courage which came so natural I doubt if she realised she even had it. "They are a different breed" said my friend with unaffected reverence, referring to the generation which survived a World War, so would take whatever low card fate was dealing them with the same innate stoicism. I have a mother who was 91 last week, is mentally sharp as a knife but unable to walk unaided, and a final remaining blood uncle also with Alzheimer's whom I visit whenever in London. So I know exactly what he meant. And in a far, far less important way, I feel something similar regarding the whiskies of yesteryear and today. I cannot see that many whiskies reaching 50 years with the kind of resilience that this whisky shows me here. The casks of today, both sherry and bourbon, are so much inferior - weaker - that we can only look upon this vanishing generation of malts, like the one in my glass before me, as we do our own kinfolk. So easily taken for granted. So dreadfully under-appreciated when with us. And to be painfully and immeasurably missed when they are gone.

A massive, sweeping statement; personal and maybe a little overreaching, but singular and grand.  And he even plugged his continuing qualm with cask management.  That's the sort of paragraph that brings me back to Murray's "Bible".

His passion about whisky is to be admired.  His passion about himself is amusing at best.  At worst, it makes the reader close the book prematurely.  And that's the last thing a writer ever wants.

---

In my next post, I will be reviewing Ballantine's 17 year old (Murray's 2013's Scotch Whisky of the Year and a former World Whisky of the Year) utilizing Murray's tasting method as outlined in this year's "Bible".  Let's see what happens...

One Hundred Whiskies --or-- Why have I been doing this?

When I had restarted Diving for Pearls last August 29th, my intent was to create daily content centered around the freelance writing career, baseball, film reviews, music, and books.  As a bit of even lighter escapism, I had hoped to be able to write a few Single Malt Reports each month, maybe one a week at best.

Instead, over these 11 months, I have reported on 99 whiskies and delivered almost 140 drinking-related posts.

What happened?  What changed?  Have I become a raging alcoholic?

To answer the last question first: No.  Having lower alcohol consumption than the average American (according to some studies), I may be drinking less than before this started.  There's no intent to get blitzed.  It's rare that I even get a good buzz on.

To be more specific, I've become a more selective drinker.  My choice in beverages is an increasingly-bourgeois luxury that I cannot afford in large quantity.  Moreover, I'm paranoid about my health, and I need to get out of bed early every AM to get to the gym.

But when I like something, I fixate on it.  I study it, read about it, always hungering for more data.  I can read about whisky for hours without taking a single sip.  And whisky is the perfect alchemy, where science and mystery meet to create unique sensory experiences.  How could I not obsess?

I chose not to delve into my writing career here because of the oceans of negativity that surrounded it.  Writers love to complain and they love to complain of nothing more than their writing careers.  This was not to be a daily bitch session.  Diving for Pearls deserved better.  Plus, I didn't want certain parties to happen upon my complaints until I had addressed them appropriately offline.

Film reviews take an immense amount of time for me because I don't want to post something subpar.  The George Herman Hitchcock Project isn't dead, but (between the film viewing, reading, and the write-ups) one of those posts could easily take six hours.

My emotional investment in baseball wanes with each season, though my interest in football and basketball grows.  And maybe I'll be able to talk a bunch of soccer smack when the 2014 World Cup comes along.

I still intend to write about more than whisky on this site, but I really enjoy studying these amber elixirs.  There's reading, history, geography, the aforementioned science, and sometimes math involved in my whisky experience.  And the beverage tastes pretty good too.

---

Last week, when I wrote about my whisky tasting process, I mentioned that I don't report on everything I taste.  There's another 30-40 whiskies I've tried this year that I haven't reported on because I was enjoying them without probing much deeper.

For instance:

This is Green Spot and this is good.

My bottle- and sample-purchasing (already carefully controlled) will be curbed after August, possibly for the rest of the year.  Happily, I have enough goodies on hand to do reports for the rest of 2012.  Some REALLY good goodies.  Plus I have the benefit of several local spirits groups that help me reach the whisky beyond my grasp.

2013 will likely be more of an American Whiskey year, as long as crop shortages and growing international demand don't push this national commodity's prices to Scotch levels.  Perhaps rum and other distilled spirits may make an appearance.

Will I reach 200 reports?  I hope so.  This first block of 100 has been very educational.  I have left all of my early whisky posts intact, even though some of them are wrong or naive.  And I'd like to think I've become a better noser and taster, but that could be illusion and ego.

For report #100, I've picked a personal whisky, one that's been the subject of experiments as it's been in the Whisky Closet for some time.  For report #101, I've chosen one of the newest members of the collection.

But before those posts, I would like to thank everyone who has stopped by the site.  Especially those who have visited a second time!  I aim to do a great job with each report.  I look forward to discovering both my first 5-star and 0-star whiskies.  When the time comes, I hope I can find the right words to do them justice.

Post #300: My career and I part ways

A year ago, I quit my very stable production accountant occupation to focus on screenwriting full time.  Things were looking brighter than usual on my projects; a career opportunity seemed be materializing through the haze.  Kristen and I agreed that this would be the best time for me to set aside my job to invest myself in the craft I'd been honing for fifteen years.

Two weeks ago, I ended my working relationship with my managers.  I'd been with them for three years and this severance was a mutual decision.  We had different reasons behind the decision -- their company was bought out by a larger production company which brought them different responsibilities -- but we agreed this was the best course of action.  I have a lot of respect for those guys and I personally liked the producers I've worked with.  And to be honest, I fouled some of this up myself.  Inconsistent scheduling, fear, wobbly confidence, and frustration prevented me from putting more words on the page.

So, what I write in this post is about the career, not the good people I've worked with.

---

Cinema has been one of my true loves for the last fifteen years.  It's been an immersion.  I lost track of how many films I'd seen, a long time ago.  It was well over the two thousand count before Netflix came along.  My two years of film school were probably the best years of my life.

Though I was a poem and short story writer before I was bitten by the film writing bug, the poison from the script bite ran deep.  It surged through my veins, reached my heart, then spread into my brain.  It was like heroin at the start.  I wrote feature-length scripts with lunatic passion, ditching sleep in order to power out draft after draft.

The energy slowed after a few years.  My projects were more carefully chosen; I wanted to sell something.  Yet, ironically, my scripts became more independent and less commercial.  Some garnered raves and attention and pitches with producers, but nothing stuck enough to begin a professional career.

I tried to set it aside and work at a 9 to 5 job, but for those few years I felt the lack.  So I got back into it.  Almost four years ago, I started on a fresh new project.  That script got the attention I'd been waiting for for so long.  It brought my managers to me.  Meetings followed.  My professional screenwriting career officially began.

And now it's likely over.  I'm attempting to work on a project or two with friends, something small, but have found that the fruitlessness and disappointment from the last three years have overwhelmed my creative energy.  I've stopped enjoying writing.

I always foresaw the potential of that happening, but I had hoped that at least I'd be paid for my efforts.  Compromise and rejection are always part of the job, but my struggle and failure happened for free.  I'm a bit older now, a bit angrier, less of a masochist than that pudgy Afro-y film school kid; so I have no issues with trying to sell my craft.  Compliments are all well and good, but they won't pay for groceries.  Nevertheless, 99% of my creative efforts over the last fifteen years have been without compensation.

So if I'm going to write for free, I'm going to do it my way.

And, aside from a possible small project or two, it won't be for any sort of motion picture.

The Movies and I have gone on to separate paths.  For years, everyone I've known has seen more contemporary films than I.  It has gotten to the point that even most of the indy flicks are regurgitating stories and themes in ways that break no new ground.  Occasionally there'll be a Tree of Life or Enter the Void, but most of the time it's a lot of Battleship and Madea (not the Greek one).  And now that I've been (briefly) a short order cook in the kitchen, now that I've seen what dishes are going to be served tomorrow, I'm not dining here anymore.  If I'm drawn to anything cinematic, it's old Avant Garde:  Man Ray, Cocteau, and Vertov tinkering with a new power.  Maybe, later on, some Brackage.

The structures I've been obeying no longer interest me.

I miss words.  I miss stretching out.  I miss the joy.

And I have to get a job now.  I've blown through much of my savings -- on living necessities, not whisky -- and my household requires more income.  So, I've joined up with a pair of employment agencies to see what I can get on the Finance front.

I'm separating myself from film a bit.  I'm selling off a chunk of my DVD collection today and I've cancelled all of my online film-related subscriptions.  Where I can increase the distance, I will, without regret.

People still read things, with or without hyperlinks.  There's a place for my skill set somewhere, but it's not going to be a segment of someone else's grand plan.

At night, in the quiet, I often think about the hardest part of all.  How can I keep from regretting my rare moment of optimism one year ago?

The (near) future of Single Malt Reports

Man, who's tired of blended whiskies?

MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Yeah, tell me about it.  It got to the point that when I held the glass of Hankey Bannister up to my lips I sighed out of exhaustion.  The blends had become burdensome.

And I'm getting concerned that it's affecting my reports.  I almost posted this last week:

---

(Source)

Brand: Does it matter?
Distilleries: I dunno, but it's someone's worst stuff
Current Owner: should be ashamed
Type: Not mine
Age: not old enough to know better
Maturation: glass bottle?
Alcohol by Volume: much too low

Words.

Availability - Yes
Pricing - Should be free
Rating - Meh.

---

Never fear, good news is here!

Only two blend reports left and they're the ones I've been looking forward to the most!  I prefer to close Blend Month with a shout rather than a whimper.

After that......Actual Single Malts.  Remember those?

I have a whole bunch of fun whiskys for June and July.  Going to do some Taste-Off-style distillery verticals.  I have a couple bottles in The Cabinet that are nearing their end and have thus far been denied a report.  I'll be going to a cool whisky event at the end of next week.  Plus I may even have a weird liquor or two that will require documentation.

I'm still aiming for the two-per-week setup until I run out.  After that I'll report on canned soup.

Happy Friday!

The Flailing Writer Goes Gardening (part one?)

This post has no whisky in it.

* * * * *

It's been a difficult year for me.

In 2011, I ended my previous stable 9:30-6:30 job with good folks in order to pursue my screenwriting career full time.  In 2012, the pursuit has gone so consistently poorly (at times abysmally) that I question that decision every day.  I won't burn the people I've worked with here.  I've had no personal problems with any of them and almost always enjoy interacting with them.  It's not that I lost faith in the system.  I never had faith in the system.  Successful screenwriters slip through the system in their own unique ways.  Rather, the disposability of the creative element has become so apparent to this creative element (me) that the act of creation seems like forgone trash.  There's money to be made in this, somehow, but the human element is dead as it is in most things related to business.  I'm now more focused on my own preservation than artistic creation.

And I've been sick more days this year than since I was a child.  Which is weird because (until now) I never get sick. I'm normally a healthy dude.  To quote LMFAO, I work out.  I eat less meat than I used to.  I drink less than I used to.  I stopped smoking cigars.  I hydrate appropriately.  Et cetera, et cetera.  Yet all of that, plus some more et cetera, has lost a lot of battles recently.

There are also numerous very personal issues that have gone precipitously downhill.  Some of which I must let fall apart.  Some of which I must save.

This is just a big lead-up to one thing.  I've lost my soul.  Not my SOUL.  But my soul.  As in Sam Cooke soul:



So how do I get that back?

Firstly, since I picked up a library card (remember those?) last month I've been reading more stuff than I have since I was that sickly kid.  But since the reading is there to build up my brain cells and writing style, I'll save the library tales for another post.

Secondly, I'm attempting to grow things.  Or at the very least, keep things alive.  Our condo has a great top-floor balcony that faces East, but also gets sun from the North and South.  It overlooks a noisy street, so there's a limit to how much a person may want to hang out there during the day.  But sun-loving plants would greatly desire to hang out there during the day.

Kristen and I like to keep as green, organic, and local as possible.  What's greener, more organic, and local than.......a garden on our property?

I don't have a green thumb or a black thumb or a brown thumb.  I have a thumb.  Two thumbs, actually.  For four years I've kept some geraniums alive.  Some ferns and ficus trees have also survived, probably despite my efforts.  Four basil plants have committed suicide in the last two years.  And all but one of our succulents have either died or shriveled up.  I didn't know that cactuses were killable, but they are!

We have a chili pepper plant, given to us by our realtor when we'd closed on the condo purchase.  She, the plant, fruited a ton of long red spicy peppers last year.  She, the plant, has since gone quite quiet.  The old leaves were shed.  New ones started growing in three months ago, then abruptly stopped.  Three tiny peppers sprouted, then stopped.  Then nothing.

I'm going to bring Pepper back to life.

Here's the before, note the three little peppers.

Here she is in her pieces.

From right to left: Her original pot, then a hefty ceramic pot that I had to put her in because the wind would blow her ass around, and a vestigial dish.

First, I replanted her into that ceramic pot.  But, the ceramic pot has no holes so it cannot drain.  That can result in drowning or rotting out the plant.  So before I did any replanting, I made like John Holmes and drilled three holes its bottom.

I am already sorry for that metaphor.

Next, I repotted it with some new soil.  Finally, I watered it with some nice thick fertilizer "tea".  More on that tea in a moment.  The after shot:

I would like to think that Pepper's branches are raised up in victory.

---

Last month I planted chives, cilantro, thyme, oregano, and basil.  Yesterday, I planted parsley.  I do a lot of cooking around here and I'm thrifty, so I would get stompin' mad every time we'd pay 2 or 3 bucks for a clump of 'fresh' herbs at the store.  A freaking plant of the same herbs costs $3.

Sorry for the weird pic. I was testing out the "panorama" shot.

And yes the basil looks sad.  It's new too.  The oregano must have told it about the fate of the previous two basil plants in that pot.  Abandon all hope ye basil.

What I'm really geeked about are these:

Up top, we've got zucchini on the left and cherry tomatoes on the right.  On the bottom, heirloom tomatoes.

Tip:  The terra cotta (stone/clay-like) pots may look better and cost more, but they're breathable.  Which means that if they get a lot of sun, then they let in a lot of heat.  Soil and roots like heat as much as I like Nicki Minaj's rapping.  Which means, they hate heat.  It will result in an unhappy plant.  Plastic pots are cheaper, but potentially better because they're not cooking the roots.

And yup, most of our plants are in terra cotta pots.  (Just found out about the above tip yesterday.)  The herbs have been more than fine.  But the veggies...well, I'll see what happens.  The big heirloom plant is in a plastic pot.  I will report back with results.

Oh, and the fertilizer tea?

Looks like a cross between Lipton and sewage.  Smells like it too.

I'm using a dry organic fertilizer with a nitrogen-phosphorus-potassium (NPK) balance for veggies and fruits.  I mixed the dry stuff in with the soil of our veggies and fruits as per the directions.

For the herbs --> I soaked one cup of fertilizer per one gallon of water for 36 hours (the 'tea'), then watered 'em with it.

Labor-wise, it's been a few hours playing in the mud.  Which really isn't labor until I f**k something up.  Then there's a few minutes here and there, watering and mixing up some 'tea'.

And that's it.  Every day I peek outside to make sure they're all still alive.  Every other day, I'll be watering them.  If anybody fruits up, I'm taking pictures.

Moar teevee!

I'm going to do a little postee here about the shows I'm following, but first two non-TV items.

1.)  Today is the first annual World Whisky Day, to which I say......Really?  I appreciate the whisky enthusiasm, but every day is World Whisky Day, people.

2.) Speaking of things that are important every day:  Peanut Butter.  I've been doing some gradual peanut butter tasting recently.  Yesterday I opened up a jar of 365's Organic Unsweetened Peanut Butter and OM NOM NOM NOM!  What I mean to say is OM NOM NOM NOM!

Actual photo of me.

So, back to television.  Here are some series I'm watching:

Mad Men - (NO SPOILERS HERE, Kristen is out of the country and will miss the first two episodes.)  I'm fully caught up with this one for the first time.  And it can do little wrong in my book.  It's probably the one drama series I enjoy to the point that I've abandoned any hope of objective research.

Even the best of series have some filler (you know, filler, the stuff they pack into burgers, meatballs, and crab cakes to make the dish seem more physically substantial while not contributing any nutrition whatsoever?).  Mad Men seems to have precious little filler.  What seems like piffle keeps coming around to have character or plot significance.

Each episode is so open and the conflict so gradual, that one often doesn't realize the landslide that has happened until the season is over.  And OH MY GOD THEY KILLED DON DRAPER!!!!  Just kidding, KP.  They killed Betty.  O_o

---

Awake - (POSSIBLE SPOILERS?)  Here's a new one that I'm all caught up on.  All four episodes worth.

After a car accident that involves his family, a police detective finds himself existing in two separate realities.  One in which his wife is dead, but his son survived.  While in the other, his son has died and his wife is alive.  In both worlds, he sees a psychiatrist, both of which are trying to convince him that there is only one reality and the other is a dream.

Jason Isaacs is great in the lead role, dealing with therapy battles, dual family issues, and solving crimes.  Awake has a nice intellectual bent without losing entertainment value.  The crime-solving plots are entirely closed.  The family issues seem to be mostly closed, with residual character conflicts remaining.  But the therapy keeps the reality-versus-reality story wide open, the hook that brings the viewer back for more.

I do have concerns about an underlying car crash conspiracy plot that appeared in episode two.  To me, it's not necessary.  I like the idea of the lead character using his two realities to work out his guilt over his responsibility for causing the death of a loved one.  Or is that too sad and grim for primetime?

---

The Wire - I'm midway through Season Two.  So dense.  A constant expansion of the story's universe (to paraphrase the great Sean H.).  I may have mentioned this before, but the element that blows my mind is that almost every moment of The Wire is made up of the minutiae that writers are told to dispose of in their scripts.  In The Wire all of this subtlety adds up, forming into an exceptionally dark and emotional journey through crime, ethics, and existence.  Yeah, it's that deep.  And the questions it poses aren't comforting.

---

The Walking Dead - Meh.  Yeah, #1 Zombie Fan says "Meh."

Let me qualify that "Meh."  I've only seen the first season.  And I watched it all in one sitting.  So it can't be all bad, right?  It's not all bad.  Some of it is very good.  And it's clearly addictive.  But I couldn't help but notice how much filler was in each episode.  Or the predictable pattern of who's going to die next.  Or the one note characters that rarely surprise.

The bigger question is, am I just bitter?  Probably.  I'm tired of zombie saturation.  It's not that zombies "sold out".  It's more like, the existential terror and spiritual collapse within a world where the dead rise has been totally muted in nearly every piece of zombie entertainment.

It could also be a zombie flavor preference.  Though Dawn of the Dead is the apex of the zombie craft, I've always preferred the cheapie eurotrashy zombie flicks of the late '70s and early '80s over anything that's been released since.  They're straightforward and honest in their exploitation which in turn creates the aforementioned spiritual and existential vacuum at the center of the films' universe.  There's an entire book waiting to be written on this.

I suppose The Walking Dead is more of a post-apocalyptic show where the bad guys keep getting shot in the head.  (SPOILER)  And the most interesting character, introduced at the end of the first season won't be around for season two.  The second most interesting character, introduced in the first episode wasn't around for the other episodes.  His possible presence in the second season is one of the few things inspiring me to continue watching.

But that's it.  I know that Season Two has finished airing, but I have very little desire to watch it.  That's not good, right?

---

Breaking Bad - Just finished the first season.  I was lukewarm on this one for a while too.  It was Brian Cranston who kept me watching, as well as the occasional very funny plunge into dark humor.

But then episode five, "Gray Matter", hooked me.  I was dazzled by the spectacular writing throughout the family intervention scene and found myself emotionally invested by the end.  Episode six turned everything up a notch, then I didn't want the season to end when Ep. 7 finished.

Though I have some gripes with the characters, the quality of the overall writing is up there with Mad Men.  Can't wait to start Season Two!

---

That's about it.  I'm dabbling in some other shows in order to study structure, but none that have captured me for a full season.  Again, this is all new for me.  Still trying to get my sea legs...

I'm new to this whole TV-watching thing

Source

1996 was the last year I had cable.  There has been a month or two since that I've done some viewing via rabbit-eared antennae.  But otherwise, whenever I've been in the presence of someone else's TV and remote, I've sought out The Simpsons reruns, baseball games, and SportCenter.  And Food Network, to see if there are any cleavage-baring cuties peeling cucumbers.

Last year, to my wife's joy, I agreed that we should get cable television in our home.  We each have been doing some catching up with series on Netflix so that we're in the proper episode-viewing window for our chosen shows.

So after binging on drama series for the last few weeks, I have decidedly changed a long held stance.  Anyone who writes for contemporary audiences in ANY medium must watch television.  If he brags about not doing so, then he is an a$$hole.  If he fully avoids it, then he is a fool.  And I have an a$$hole and a fool.

Aside from the novel, there is no better opportunity for subtle character development and complex plotting based off multi-tiered conflict.  Feature films cannot compete.

Once a show is picked up for a season there is considerably less meddling by studio/network brass than in major features.  Not that there isn't some heavy note-giving, but there isn't time to work out those external criticisms in time for airing.  A bunch of writers are hired and they build the ship with the show runner(s).  A feature screenplay can undergo two or three years of rewriting, but television episodes need to be worked out within months or weeks.

And then there's the actual breadth of storytelling time.  A feature film has to get in and out of the story within two hours.  A cable drama series gets over ten hours per season (minus ad space).  Network dramas often have over sixteen hours (minus ad space) per season.  I don't care how many sequels one gets to release on one's feature, there just isn't the same opportunity to tell an expanded story.

And television is how people have been primarily consuming stories for over a generation.  They pay for it so that it's pumped into their home like electricity.  Because it's a steady monthly billing process, no one feels like they have to dish out $10 or $15 for individual viewing experiences like cinema.  It's there, in front of their couch, ready to deliver lifetimes' worth of tales for consumption.

That's not to say that all of the product is good.  Most is not.  Having more canvas doesn't make one's art better.  It's very easy to get lazy with so much room to maneuver.  Beautiful things can be honed within small spaces.  But the chance to develop a new epic, week by week, as an almost live experience is worth all of the failures leading up to it.

A lot of television drama is just closed procedural, each episode solves a conflict within an hour without any further development from show to show.  Some of it is much more open, developing a larger story bite by bite, cliffhanger by cliffhanger, as Dickens and his contemporaries used to.  Some incorporates both closed and open storytelling, having conflicts presented and solved in individual episodes while gradually revealing a much larger story each week.

I know that this has been the equivalent of me saying, "So that color in the sky there is blue.  And the white fluffy stuff is clouds."  But there's a difference between understanding this in theory and appreciating it for the evolutionary storytelling process that it is.

I'm new to this whole TV-watching thing.  And though I'm largely doing my viewing under the guise of an obsessed researcher in a foreign country, I can understand why humans enjoy this stuff.

I hope to do some ramblings on my chosen shows later this week...

The Tuesday Loop

This is a very intense writing week for me so I might be a little more scattered and schizo with this week's postings.  First let's talk w--

I've got this song stuck in my head.  Its chorus keeps running over and over and over again.  I can't stop it and I don't know how it got in there.

Hey, Blue Text, it's difficult enough to focus right now even without interruptions.  So, if you could hush for a few minutes, then you and I can discuss offline later.

I'll try, but this song is driving me crazy.

First, let's talk whisky.

The Dram Quest

As you'll notice, a new list has popped up in the right frame of the page.  These are whiskies that I most desire to sample.  None of them are outrageously expensive.  No 30+ year olds nor 1960-somethings.  Most aren't easily obtainable, but I desire the chase.

I'll cross 'em off as I try them.  I'll add new ones from time to time, but I'll keep the list below 20.

The Whisky Library...

...has grown considerably in recent months.  I'll be updating the Sources on the Whisky Notes page this week with this whole list:

Michael Jackson's Complete Guide to Single Malt Scotch, 6th Edition - I recommended this in the whisky gifts post.  It really is one of the great all-time volumes on whisky.

Jim Murray's Whiskey Bible 2012 - A zillion (or maybe 4500+) whiskies reviewed by a gentleman who seems to be a bit of an unconventional character in the whisky scene.  Though I agree with him about half the time, each of his reviews are insightful and full of whisky love.  Also recommended in that whisky gift post.

101 Whiskies to Try Before You Die by Ian Buxton - GREAT book.  I reviewed it here.

Single Malt and Scotch Whisky by Daniel Lerner - A gift from an old friend.  My first whisky book.  The binding is totally shattered.  A good early intro whisky book.

Whiskypedia by Charles MacLean - Similar structure to the "Complete Guide", sans reviews, but every page packed with oodles and oodles of distillery info.  MacLean's a great writer and this is a great reference book.

Scotch Whisky, A Liquid History by Charles MacLean - Speaking of super reference books, holy moley!  This is going to take a while to get through, but I'm working on it.  So much good stuff!

Malt Whisky Yearbook 2012 - The pictures!  The articles!  The stats!  This is THE annual must-have.  There's so much great news about the state of the industry and the fine brown liquor itself.

Whisky by Aeneas MacDonald - Tremendous.  It is literature.  And that is by no means exaggeration.  Beautifully written.  Lyrical, even.  Originally published in 1930, it was the first book written by and for the whisky drinker.  There's tons of history and distillation instructions, but the pseudonymous writer crafts such a lovely homage to the beauty of whisky, that I'm going to have to cover this in its own post.

Hmmm Hmmm Hmmm Hmmm Doo Doo Doo Doo Doo Doo, Hmm Hmm Hmm Hmm Doo Doo Doo Doo Doo.  Damnit, the tune's still there!  Where did it come from?

Hey!  Hush, the post is still going.

The Bro is in Town

Jason arrives in LA today for business reasons.  On Thursday and Friday we're going to visit at least two great drinking establishments.  More on that once it's done.

Hmmm Hmmm Hmmm Hmmm--

And I'll be taking the Metro!  I've lived in LA County for over 11 years and I've never taken the Metro.  Largely because it never is where I am nor where I am going.  But now it is where I am and where I need to go.  Hopefully that experience is uneventful and won't need its own post.

Doo Doo Doo Doo Doo Doo, Hmm Hmm Hmm Hmm--

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band

I've always been a big fan of Abbey Road, but now that I've given Sgt. Pepper's another go I think it may pull ahead as my favorite Beatles album.  Technically, it's astounding.

It would be Exhibit A for why psychedelic drugs are good, but I don't think most mortals can hold the clarity and vision together enough to create such a complete piece of art--

Doo Doo Doo Doo Doo--

It destroys The Beach Boys Pet Sounds as far as innovation and song structure--

Oh no!  I can't stop the song!

Yes, you can!  Just a few more min--

It's burning through my defenses!  Oh f--

I want your loving
And I want your revenge

Oh dear.

You and me could write a bad romance

I'm going to---

I want your loving
And I want your revenge
You and me could write a bad romance

We didn't need to hear that a second time.

Oh ohhhh whoaaaa ohh ohhh
Caught in a bad romance

Whew.  I feel so much better now.


Hello?


What happened to Black Text?


Hello--

For the benefit of Mr. Kite
There will be a show tonight on trampoline
The Hendersons will all be there
Late of Pablo Fanques Fair-what a scene
Over men and horses hoops and garters
Lastly through a hogshead of real fire!
In this way Mr. K. will challenge the world!

Now, on to work.