
I confess I never really knew what exactly a wattle was, apart from some sort of Australian plant. But every time I hear the word — which admittedly doesn’t happen often — I think of the following declaration by the philosphy professors from the University of Woolamaloo in Australia. “This here’s the wattle — the emblem of our land. You can stick it in a bottle or you can hold it in yer hand.” All of their names are Bruce, of course, because the reference is from an episode of the brilliant British television show Monty Python’s Flying Circus.
But I saw recently that an Australian brewer, Barons Brewing, is using black wattle in their beer. So I figured it was time to figure out what the heck a wattle is, after all.
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It turns out that a wattle is essentially the Australian word for an Acacia. Here’s what Wikipedia has to say about acacias:
Black wattle, or Acacia mearnsii, is the variety being used by Barons Brewing.
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I’ve always been a fan of gruits and other beers made with herbs and spices. The complexity and range of flavors available by adding just a hint of one or more ingredients is astounding. And shrubs and trees, too, can work a similar magic on brewing. Beer made with spruce, for example, was quite common in colonial America where hops was in short supply. So I’m dying to try some of Baron’s new Black Wattle Superior, a Wattle Seed Ale.
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Here’s what their website has to say about it:
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But I can’t bring up the Bruces from the Philosophy Department of the University of Woolamaloo without mentioning their “Philosophy Song.” I saw it performed live at the City Center in New York when my parents let me take my first unchaperoned trip to the Big Apple in 1976, when I was 17. It’s still one of my favorite Monty Python bits and I remain a huge fan of the show and much of the individual members’ later work, as well. Press the play button to hear the song and follow along with the lyrics reprinted below.
If you enjoyed this post or the Bulletin generally, please consider buying me a pintImmanuel Kant was a real pissant
Who was very rarely stable.Heidegger, Heidegger was a boozy beggar
Who could think you under the table.David Hume could out-consume
Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, [later versions have ‘Schopenhauer and Hegel’]And Wittgenstein was a beery swine
Who was just as schloshed as Schlegel.There’s nothing Nietzsche couldn’t teach ya ’bout the raising of the wrist.
Socrates, himself, was permanently pissed.John Stuart Mill, of his own free will,
On half a pint of shandy was particularly ill.Plato, they say, could stick it away—
Half a crate of whisky every day.Aristotle, Aristotle was a bugger for the bottle.
Hobbes was fond of his dram,And René Descartes was a drunken fart.
‘I drink, therefore I am.’Yes, Socrates, himself, is particularly missed,
A lovely little thinker, but a bugger when he’s pissed.
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