Ode to Fermentation

Introduction

As noted earlier, as of February 2015, I began trying to maintain a high level of productivity so that, should I ever be inspired, I'll produce something worthwhile. I wrote Winter of Discontent, and the next day, I was inspired to write this, which began on my way to karate (Wednesday, February 5) and completed it on my subway commute (Thursday, February 6)

To the tune of Dargason

When Noah came from Ararat

He put some grapes into a vat

He let it sit and soon enough

He had a cup of fizzy stuff

Now beers and ale are made from grain

With hops to make them not so plain

But if you should more taste prefer

Then try a Belgian lambic, sir!

To make a brandy boil some wine

Distill some beer for whiskey fine

Then age in oak if you can wait

Or drink it down as moonshine straight.

But pity poor Mohammad's kin

Who can't partake of rum or gin

No grain or fruit may they ferment

So honey mead is heaven sent!

Since vineyards take some years to grow

You can't make wine while on the go

So Mongol nomads and their ilk

Drink kumiss made from horse's milk.

Sometimes a drink displays its name

To tell us all from whence it came

But if Burgundian ports are sacked

What should we call the wine unpacked?

Your meat may spoil and soon turn vile

Beware of onions left awhile

But grain and fruit and honey sweet

Will Bacchus turn to pleasant treat!

Notes

I tried to perform this at a bardic circle at Pensic 44, and made a newbie mistake the first time I did this piece: I tried to read it off a Device, by firelight, after having a drink or two (or three). Any one of these would have been a challenge; all three together combined to produce what may have been my worst performance in decades. It's good to fall on your face occasionally, as it keeps you honest; for those who saw my execrable performance, many apologies for having wasted your time.