It is the Bank Holiday Weekend in the UK, when people either do DIY or drink. Some do both but that usually leads to unplanned trips to the A&E.
What is your favourite beverage? Stories?
Extra brownie points for those who can find beverage references from Literature as well!
~
"It is not that I am mad; it is only that my head is different from yours.”
~
My favourite drink is RED WINE.
Nothing compared to it because it is versatile and you drink it with food which makes it easy to digest.
My other favourite beverage CHAMPAGNE.
Only the most expensive will do.
Here is some literature I found on wine:
Wine Lore and Laughter
From Mesopotamian clay tablets dating back almost five thousand years, through the classical Greek and Roman writers, to the Bible, then by way of Shakespeare, down to the great writers and artists of our time, wine has been a potent source of inspiration.
This theme takes a humorous look at some of the creative literature surrounding wine drinking with a selection of cartoons (including 12 especially commissioned for the State Library), stories, verse and songs, from the solemnity of the Bible and the wit of Shakespeare, to the bawdiness of the eighteenth century, to nineteenth century books for children, and the traditions of today.
Wine, the most delightful of drinks, whether we owe it to Noah,
who planted the vine, or to Bacchus, who pressed juice from the
grape, goes back to the childhood of the world.
Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, -the physiology of taste-
Ancient times
According to Persian mythology, wine was discovered by a woman. She drank the fermented juice from grapes stored in a jar, went to sleep, and surprisingly woke up cured of a headache, instead of suffering from the world's first hangover as one might have expected.
Wine became the drink of the gods, whether they were Egyptian, Sumerian, or Greek, and the early deities of wine were often women, since they were also associated with fertility. The symbolism of wine, as well as its effect, became potent as it was adopted into religious ritual.
The modern Egyptian papyrus illustrated here reproduces ancient Egyptian winemaking techniques, and was a recent donation to the Library.
Another source of potent images, the sea, which was crucial to early transport and communication, was given the feminine gender by the Greeks. When the ancient Greek poet Homer sang of "the wine-dark sea" he was linking two forces central in Mediterranean life to create an image which continues to have great emotive power.
In the musical comedy Roman Scandals, produced in 1933, Eddie Cantor finds himself in Imperial Rome where he is employed as the food taster for the evil emperor Valerius (Edward Arnold). Could the last glass of the emperor's favourite wine have been poisoned by his wife Agrippa? Eddie is just about to find out!
The Bible
The Bible has many references to the vine and wine. The first recorded mention is in Genesis, in the ninth chapter, where we learn that Noah planted a vineyard, and that "he drank of the wine and was drunken". This incident was sometimes featured in illustrated versions of the Bible, including an English manuscript of around 1320 known as the Holkham Bible. The State Library's facsimile edition of this manuscript, published in 1954, shows Noah and his sons harvesting grapes, followed by a vivid portrayal of the first recorded drunkard.
The Book of Proverbs has several things to say on the subject of wine:
Proverbs:
Wine is a mocker
Look not upon the wine when it is red
Forsake not on old friend
Wine is as good as a life to a man
Neither do men put old wine into new bottles
Drink no longer water
And here is the rest of it all for further reading
http://www.winelit.slsa.sa.gov.au/winelore.htm
Last edited by cacian; 08-24-2012 at 11:57 AM.
it may never try
but when it does it sigh
it is just that
good
it fly
"Newcastle Brown: Helping ugly people have sex since 1927"
Last edited by prendrelemick; 08-24-2012 at 12:12 PM.
ay up
COOFFFFEEEEEEE
it's always black coffee on the top of my list. I am a simple girl with simple needs.
To quote my friend Dale Cooper 'Black as midnight on a moonless night'
I hope death is joyful, and I hope I'll never return -Frida Khalo
If I seem insensitive to what you are going through, understand it's the way I am- Mr. Spock
Personally, I think that the unique and supreme delight lies in the certainty of doing 'evil'–and men and women know from birth that all pleasure lies in evil. - Baudelaire
TEA!
...that is all.
"I should only believe in a God that would know how to dance. And when I saw my devil, I found him serious, thorough, profound, solemn: he was the spirit of gravity- through him all things fall. Not by wrath, but by laughter, do we slay. Come, let us slay the spirit of gravity!" - Nietzsche
and for the extra points.... (I'll be expecting them next to my name by the end of the weekend)
an article about coffee scenes in literature:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2009...fee-best-books
and a poem I posted here a long time ago about this love in my life:
I think of you
in the morning
you are what I want
everyday
First thing I look for
when I come home
last thing I see
before sleep
I can smell you
I can taste you
on my lips
running warm
through my body
Too much of you
and I shake,
too little, I ache
Can't be without you
you're bitter, you're sweet
you are perfect
for me.
I hope death is joyful, and I hope I'll never return -Frida Khalo
If I seem insensitive to what you are going through, understand it's the way I am- Mr. Spock
Personally, I think that the unique and supreme delight lies in the certainty of doing 'evil'–and men and women know from birth that all pleasure lies in evil. - Baudelaire
I want to drink...beer.
Let's put some music on to start the weekend.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=64R6dMEnqxo
I have a little Leffe to finish from last night and then I have placed an order with Mrs N to bring me back some Golden Hen, so I'm going to drink a couple of those too later on. I'm going to finish my book first though.
I don't like bank holidays as a rule mind.
Margarita!
Do, or do not. There is no try. - Yoda
In that case order me a crate.Originally Posted by prendrelemick
Neither do I, if only because the pubs are crowded. For a long time I've thought that it would be much more sensible to give everyone the time off in lieu instead of having the congestion at airports and the other inconveniences that occur when a large proportion of the workforce is off work.
Anyhow, here's an appropriate track for this thread,
http://youtu.be/cRv9tyz1XVc
or perhaps this is even more so.
http://youtu.be/DRP8ZfQye6M
Last edited by Emil Miller; 08-24-2012 at 03:18 PM.
"L'art de la statistique est de tirer des conclusions erronèes a partir de chiffres exacts." Napoléon Bonaparte.
"Je crois que beaucoup de gens sont dans cet état d’esprit: au fond, ils ne sentent pas concernés par l’Histoire. Mais pourtant, de temps à autre, l’Histoire pose sa main sur eux." Michel Houellebecq.
A long glass, crushed ice, two fingers of Appelton rum, a slice of lime and topped up with coke.
Gets me in training for the Notting Hill Gate Carnival, Sunday & Monday.
Haha Appleton is cool my partner's favourite so you go MANICHEAN!!
Can't stand the carnival though too crowded noisy and a struggle to find a way out.
I have done two Carnivals now and never again.
it may never try
but when it does it sigh
it is just that
good
it fly
I could relate, I think we all can. Have you written it yourself?
I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew.
I shall be drinking wine..........
Ode To Wine by Pablo Neruda
Day-colored wine,
night-colored wine,
wine with purple feet
or wine with topaz blood,
wine,
starry child
of earth,
wine, smooth
as a golden sword,
soft
as lascivious velvet,
wine, spiral-seashelled
and full of wonder,
amorous,
marine;
never has one goblet contained you,
one song, one man,
you are choral, gregarious,
at the least, you must be shared.
At times
you feed on mortal
memories;
your wave carries us
from tomb to tomb,
stonecutter of icy sepulchers,
and we weep
transitory tears;
your
glorious
spring dress
is different,
blood rises through the shoots,
wind incites the day,
nothing is left
of your immutable soul.
Wine
stirs the spring, happiness
bursts through the earth like a plant,
walls crumble,
and rocky cliffs,
chasms close,
as song is born.
A jug of wine, and thou beside me
in the wilderness,
sang the ancient poet.
Let the wine pitcher
add to the kiss of love its own.
My darling, suddenly
the line of your hip
becomes the brimming curve
of the wine goblet,
your breast is the grape cluster,
your nipples are the grapes,
the gleam of spirits lights your hair,
and your navel is a chaste seal
stamped on the vessel of your belly,
your love an inexhaustible
cascade of wine,
light that illuminates my senses,
the earthly splendor of life.
But you are more than love,
the fiery kiss,
the heat of fire,
more than the wine of life;
you are
the community of man,
translucency,
chorus of discipline,
abundance of flowers.
I like on the table,
when we're speaking,
the light of a bottle
of intelligent wine.
Drink it,
and remember in every
drop of gold,
in every topaz glass,
in every purple ladle,
that autumn labored
to fill the vessel with wine;
and in the ritual of his office,
let the simple man remember
to think of the soil and of his duty,
to propagate the canticle of the wine.
Maybe it's a bit unrelated but I really wonder if anybody knows a poem on water!
I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew.
Going for Water
By Robert Frost
1874-1963
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The well was dry beside the door,
And so we went with pail and can
Across the fields behind the house
To seek the brook if still it ran;
Not loth to have excuse to go,
Because the autumn eve was fair
(Though chill), because the fields were ours,
And by the brook our woods were there.
We ran as if to meet the moon
That slowly dawned behind the trees,
The barren boughs without the leaves,
Without the birds, without the breeze.
But once within the wood, we paused
Like gnomes that hid us from the moon,
Ready to run to hiding new
With laughter when she found us soon.
Each laid on other a staying hand
To listen ere we dared to look,
And in the hush we joined to make
We heard, we knew we heard the brook.
A note as from a single place,
A slender tinkling fall that made
Now drops that floated on the pool
Like pearls, and now a silver blade.
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