Pabst was looking for a way into the current craft beer run. They went through their vault of dozens of shuttered operations and “imprints” (I’m coopting that name used by the record industry there) and came up with Ballantine’s IPA which hadn’t been brewed since the 90s—and hadn’t been in it’s original, authentic form since the 60s. What followed was an episode of CSI Millwuakee.
The question then became: How does one faithfully recreate a beer that nobody has tasted in more than forty years?
The whole story is here. It’ll be interested to see what they come up with.
Masterful trolling by the Canada… oh, Canada you used to be so affable.
and a Russian response…
except that Russia first response included the disputed regions of Abkhazia and South Ossetia (yes I had to look it up) but was quickly pulled down and replaced with the more diplomatically correct version above with that arae in pink & yellow stripes.
As a couple of folks have mentioned, I’m all for the replacement of bombs with international throwing of shade on Twitter.
from National Geographic’s Picture of the Day:
Greenland’s Inuit survived for generations eating almost nothing but meat in a landscape too harsh for most plants. Today markets offer more variety, but a taste for meat persists.
The 64 residents of the remote east Greenland village of Isortoq, pictured here, still hunt and fish but combine traditional Inuit foods with purchases from the supermarket, the large red building in the foreground. A favorite dish: seal dipped in ketchup and mayonnaise.
this is definitely funnier if you actually vocalize it, so sing it out loud (quietly to yourself if you’re at work)… it’ll make you chuckle.
I think I have a favorite new band. Parquet Courts… Texans transplanted to Brooklyn… they’re part Modern Lovers, part Pavement, part Sonic Youth.
This one shows their more SY side…
… and this one their more Pavement-y side…
They’re playing at Webster Hall pretty soon. I think they came through Boston recently. Hopefully they’re be back soon.
name your own new, increaingly obscure emoticons!
へ(✕▿✕)へ ━━► dead bird
(((＼（◍⍛◍）／))) ━━► I come in peeeece
⊂ -ᴥ- ⊃ ━━► smug koala
ヽ༼⚈,_ゝ⚈༽ﾉ ━━► I’m meeeelltiinnngg
♱☉ᴥ☉♱ ━━► lemur friend
^(☉д☉)^b ━━► owl telling you a-OK
A German researcher published findings that support a different (and apaprently highly contested) type of evolution that isn’t as well known as the classic kind identified by Darwin and his finches—the kind where species diverge as a result of geographic isolation. This flavor of evolution appears to be an intraspecies divergence, called sympatric (the classic variety is called allopatric), that occurs when on group of animals within a colony changs how they operate and were are successful that they live within the same group but are completely walled-off in terms of breeding. Fast forward many, many years and—voila!—new species living right under the noses of the ones they branched out from
The ant colony they studied was situated under a group of eucalyptus trees at São Paulo State University in Brazil. The familiar ant, Mycocepurus goeldii, is a fungus-farming species, meaning it grows fungus and relies on it for nutrients. This ant has been observed throughout Brazil and in neighboring countries. But within that one colony on the university campus exists a parasite ant, Mycocepurus castrator. Rather than help grow fungus, the parasites spend their lives eating the food reserves and reproducing. Sometimes they go undetected; other times, mobs of the farmer ants identify and kill them.
Most new species develop in geographic isolation from the original species, a concept called allopatric speciation. It is rare for a species like the parasite ants to evolve from another species within the same nest.
Among those publishing the findings are, Christian Rabeling, the German scientist who found the species in Brazil and Ted Schultz, the curator of ants for the National Museum of National History.
Let me say that again… THE CURATOR OF ANTS. I love that that job exists.
There’s a deeper significance to Ralph… or at least that’s the argument Mallory Ortberg makes in Not Allowed In The Deep End: Ralph Wiggum’s Finest Moments. It’s convincing.
There is no place on the social structure for a second-grade boy who thinks rats are “pointy kitties” and calls his teacher “Mommy.” Kids can be misfits (Milhouse), or they can be brownnosers (Martin), or they can be troublemakers (Nelson), or they can be tattle-tales (Sherri and Terri), but being Ralph is simply not a taxonomically viable option.
Ralph is not a rule-follower like Lisa, nor a rule-breaker like Bart; Ralph does not observe the rules because he is almost completely unaware of them. More than any of the other students at Springfield Elementary, Ralph is a child. Bart and Lisa and Milhouse and Nelson and Janey are kids, and therein lies the difference. Ralph sees things that aren’t there (“Ralph, remember the time you said Snagglepuss was outside?” “He was going to the bathroom!”), eats paste, picks his nose, volunteers unprompted, nonsensical declarations (“My cat’s breath smells like cat food”) disguised as Zen koans. His character is sometimes written as dim-but-profound, sometimes borderline-psychotic, and occasionally developmentally disabled, but more than anything else, Ralph like what he is: a child who hasn’t yet aged into a kid, which is one of the most embarrassing things a child can be.