Blame Oliver Gray, the host of this month's session for what is to follow. He wants us to review a beer without actually reviewing it. It's a tough job. I chose Permon Black IPA for it because... well, because it's black, but I will need to sit down and drink it quietly, hoping the beer will inspire me to write something that will speak about it without it being an evaluation thereof.
Some music will help. I guess that after a couple of songs of Al Kooper's Super Session I will have got some inspiration. What a great piece of music this record is! Amazing black music by white people. Come to think of it, in a way it mirrors the beer, a Pale Ale that is Black, but I fear I might be getting too close to reviewing.
Before getting too lost in my thoughts, I want to have a last look at my browser to see if there aren't any e-mails that need to be sorted out urgently. There aren't, but there's a tab open on an article I've been wanting to read since the morning. The Quantum Mechanics of Fate – How time travel might explain some of science’s biggest puzzles. A fascinating piece, it talks about the idea that the future might be influencing the past, the concept of retrocausality, they call it. I love it. It challenges so many established ideas, opens so many questions – starting with the very existence of time, something, some people are not all that sure of, very much like the very idea of a Black IPA.
I'm none the wiser about this non-review by the time I finish reading the article, and I notice that more than half the glass is gone. Instead of thinking about the beer and what it leaves behind after each sip, I'm thinking about whether my future self isn't influencing my present self in some way that relates to the beer. Can the beer be generating some memories that my future self is, in his own when, right now recalling, and what sort of memories could they be?
I need to concentrate, I need to figure out what to write because the deadline is this Friday.
I'm trying to choose what to play next to help me think, when my daughter comes. “Tatínku. Pojď si se mnou hrát!” she asks me. And yeah, I go play with her, and I take the est of the beer with me. We play her favourite game these days. She's some wild animal and she's cooking me dinner, a soup. And suddenly realise the beer pairs wonderfully with it. Could that be the memory? We will see.
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