Staropramen Czech Pilsener

As yesterday's post no doubt made clear, my alcohol hierarchy puts light beers- especially lagers- way at the bottom. For the longest time I thought all beer tasted like Corona and Red Dog, so the first two years of my drinking life were limited pretty exclusively to vodka and, on exceptionally rash and desperate days, gin.

That said, I can't help put pick up a Czech beer once in a while- granted my blood is Slovak and I'll rant for hours about the pathetic Europhile spinelessness of "the Czech Republic" and its Bavarian bootlicking, but standing in the Bull's Eye Beer Depot surrounded by pretentious Belgians, imperious Germans and the blood-thirsty Irish, I have to reach for what's most familiar, and Prague is often as close to home as I'll get.

So now I'm sitting in my living room watching Evan Lysacek (American born, looks vaguely South Slavic, apparently Greek Orthodox) win the 2009 ISU Grand Prix of Figure Skating with my youngest brother and knocking back a Staropramen "Premium Lager".

The tag line on their website says "Get a taste of Prague." Good lord, if this is what Prague tastes like no wonder it's become the Niagara Falls of Central Europe. Praha is supposed to be zlaté město- the golden city, the mystical and ancient city, the fountainhead of western European sorcery and enchantment. I've been reading tarot since I was about eight years old, but my favorite deck is The Tarot of Prague because of the way it integrates the city's breath-taking art and history into the major and minor arcana.

The Staropramen Lager is, yes, several steps up from the Coronas I've been drinking lately (it's my parents' favorite beer). The carbonation isn't overpowering, the 5% ABV is very subtle, the aroma is light- in general there's nothing at all striking about this beer. Maybe that's the point of a pilsener, I don't know. Seems to me Prague deserves better.

Prague Tales - Jan Neruda

Picked up a copy of this at the DC Public Library for $2 a few weeks ago- more than worth it. All excerpts were published between 1867 and 1876.

"'But why didn't he write out his whole name? What's his first name, Viktor, Volfgang?'
'Well, it's Václav, but he doesn't like it. He says that every time he sees a church procession he wants to get re-baptized.'"

Typical Czech-German pandering.

"'...I don't think I've ever seen a decent, moderately long sentence from any of you. ... It's also quite obvious that you don't even know German properly, and I'll tell you why: because you jabber away in Czech all day! Therefore, with the power invested in my office as Director, I hereby forbid the speaking of Czech in the office, and as your friend and your superior I suggest that you speak only German outside the office as well.'"

Wait, they have the "notes of a neurotic 19th century bureaucrat" genre outside Russia, too?

"Conversations in Czech ceased. Only two very close friends would utter a word in Czech out in the corridor or in the archives. They almost seemed like surreptitious snuff-takers. I keep speaking Czech--and loudly at that. Everyone avoids me."

Tobacco stigma in 1860s Mala Strana? Jeez.

"It is a well-known historical fact that gods arise directly from their people. Jehovah was a gloomy, cruel, angry, vengeful, and bloodthirsty god, just like the entire Jewish nation. The Hellenic gods were elegant and witty, beautiful and joyful, just like the Greeks themselves. The Slavic gods--I'm sorry, but we Slavs lack a vivid enough imagination to create either great states or well-defined gods. Despite the best efforts of folklorists such as Erben and Kostomarov, our erstwhile gods are only an obscure, rag-tag group of divinities with no clear, well-defined characteristics."

Kinda true, actually.

"Of course the priest from St. Nicholas' and his assistants were late, as was the custom at the funeral of any important person so that no one would say Mr. Velš was being hurried on his way."

That's what we call a win-win cultural development.