You see what happens is that these scarf-wearing, longest beard possible (apparently full of their own feces) bros don't have much going for them that show how manly they are. Most things in life that we men do are all about comparing dick sizes. Problem is, our culture is now one in which the man with the actual biggest set doesn't get to display them for all to see. Back in the tribal days everyone knew who had the biggest package, because it was staring them all in the face.
So now it's all about who's most athletic, or handsome, or muscular, or drives the fastest car, or has the loudest roadster, or has boned the most chicks, etc. But these boys got none of that stuff going on. They had some smarts, but weren't the top-of-the-class type either. Then they got to college and discovered beer.
All the jocks were getting smashed with bmc. All of the genius, nerd types were sipping on wine and expensive liquors or expensive malt-forward trappist beers that are pretty much wine. Which left them with IPAs. They drank one and liked it, and wanted to be cool and share it with the others, but it was just way too bitter for those guys. So scarf-wearing boy found his thing. "I can drink hoppier beers than you."
Like every man who finally wins a singular contest, he immediately took it to the extreme, in order to, obviously, show just how big his hoppiness really was. Problem was, bmc man, and wine guy didn't give two ****s.
So one of the scarf boys finally wised up to that, but really it was only after accidentally squirting too much lemon into his Boulevard Wheat. He thought, "Hmm, I wonder if there's a such thing as a sour beer."
But then one of his buddies stumbled upon Imperial Stouts by accident. He had a few IIPAs by that point, and when he went up to the bartender he was trying to be real cool and said, "Give me your imperial, bro."
Now we have these two new hipsterier-than-you camps that despise IPAs and IIPAs because they've got developed "pallets." They prefer either that horse blanket mixed with cat piss mixed with the acidic tartness that reminds them of the fruit tart their grandmother used to make in the summertime. Or they want more roasty-chocolatey-coffee goodness to balance out the high abv, 25-year old RIS white whale that they traded $125 worth of local IPAs and IIPAs for in order to get 500ml of that greatness.
And then both of the camps join forces and create the "IPAs are for stupid-heads" threads.
Which leaves us here. The point where those BMC jockees, and the too-smart-for-their-own-good wine-os joined forces to mock the scarf-wearing, ipa-bashing dummies.
:turtle:
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