Allegory

I have good friends who are drinkers. I have good friends who are social drinkers, but aren't really drinkers. I have good friends who aren't drinkers. I have good friends who are drinkers, and also want all the non-drinkers to drink too. I have good friends who aren't drinkers and want to eradicate drinking, and maybe the drinkers too.


For the longest time, there was no drinking. Then, in the cold climes up North, alcohol was discovered. It became quickly popular in those wintry wastelands, and made human habitation bearable. It spread, as human ingenuity often does, far and wide. It even made it down here, to the sunny South, where the juices and nectars had held sway, where the coconut was indeed 'King'.

For the tropical Southerner, the harsh solution held no great attraction. And for the Northener who was now in paradise, it didn't really make sense to wear fur coats or drink harsh vodka, either. And so, the hybrids happened. Mix a bit of this, with a bit of that, swirl it around for a bit of divinity. Cocktails happened, Sangria happened. There was a perfect blend, and it felt right at home in the sun.

And this is how drinking survived in the South for many years. And then came the days of speed, of flying machines and mighty ships, of postal services that were but instant.

And the vodka rediscovered the Cocktail, and the Cocktail rediscovered the Vodka.

And said the Vodka, "What have you done to my pristine condition?"

And said the Cocktail, "But is it not nature, for things to evolve and adapt?"

"From the North hail I, and you better not corrupt what is pure."

And so, with a huge marketing campaign too, the Vodka made its way into Southern bars again. The cotton sarong made way for the fur coat, and the centuries of Southern heritage made way for reverential aping of the North.

And the once peaceful bonds of brotherhood between the drinker and the non-drinker were broken, and families that for centuries were united regardless of such trivialities were suddenly at war. The merry sessions of baila and dance made way for chavs running around starting brawls and breaking bottles.

To drink a cocktail was to blaspheme.

To even associate with a non-drinker was discouraged, unless you were engaging them to drag them to the bar and make them drinkers too.

The non-drinkers felt threatened and reacted. Street corners were all suddenly filled with fruit juice stalls. The Coconut had to be respectfully addressed as "His Majesty, the King of Coconuts". Or else.

Shandy was thrown at bar patrons. Things got real ugly on sidewalks right outside.

"Would our fathers ever have started drinking if they knew the Sangria was going to make way for the Vodka?" "Fur coats? In this weather? Would our grandmothers ever have let this happen?" "All these drunks do is start brawls! It encourages violence, you know?"

"All they have is an irrational fear of Vodka and Whiskey!" "Once you've tasted Lagavulin, can you ever go back? This is, and will always be, what drinking is about". "Those coconuts are just bitter about how happy drinkers are!"

You'd think the world would grow closer, that the North and the South would finally just be directions on a map. But from here, it seems to me, the North looks on gleefully as the South tears itself apart.


I have good friends who are drinkers. I have good friends who are social drinkers, but aren't really drinkers. I have good friends who aren't drinkers. I have good friends who are drinkers, and also want all the non-drinkers to drink too. I have good friends who aren't drinkers and want to eradicate drinking, and maybe the drinkers too.

And if you are a good friend of mine, you'd know that this post isn't about drinking at all.


Built using Pelican.