surly pentagram

I’ve never trusted the goth aesthetic. For personal reasons. The kids who adopted the clown-white personas in high school were shitty little wieners in middle school, the kind of terrifying children who got their kicks by disemboweling Beanie Babies or pooping their pants right before sliding down the playground’s fire pole. These were the kids who grew up to post craigslist ads asking if any local teenagers wanted to be photographed while eating a jarful of hair follicles. If they didn’t become cops, that is.

That kind of visceral, disgusting aberrance is a cover up, an attempt to disguise pedestrian tastes and normal intellect. It’s a pale imitation of being actually interesting, and I knew it as soon as those little fuckers started bathing in bleach. In 8th grade, it’s all “Tristan turn this Sonic Youth album down, it’s just a bunch of noise and we should re-listen to my tape of the Lion King soundtrack.” Then in 9th grade it’s “What do you mean you haven’t heard of Skinny Puppy? Everyone who’s anyone simply adores Skinny Puppy. They’re way brutal.”

Of course they weren’t brutal. Just bad. Some people confuse offensive ineptitude for the deeper sort of profound offensiveness, the sort found in Lenny Bruce’s racism jokes or Jimmy Carl Black’s teeth. More often than not, offensive things are offensive not out of any profundity but because they just suck and are gross.

So naturally I’m going to be leery of a goth beer. And don’t go telling me this is metal, not goth, because I can tell by the font this is goth. The inch-thick coating of wax was as moronically unnecessary as the combat boots that Germans wear while dancing, and the rambling description on the bottle’s side is neither campy nor earnest; instead, it’s mechanical, tinny, only semi-self aware. Just like a goth album.

Pours much less brutal than I was expecting—less the devil’s sputum, more Lipton “Brisk” Iced Tea. Tastes like tame brett with some lightly fruity malt nodes. Nice and balanced, sessionable, but hardly the raging maniac of a beer the bottle’s font and color scheme had led me to expect.

Surprisingly refreshing. Really a nice, pretty beer, once you get rid of the wallet chain and wipe off all that mascara. It’s like the girl in the after school special who realizes she doesn’t need to be extreme to fit in and then at the end she’s in a swim suit and you realize you’ve wanted to fuck her the whole time. She just needed to stop trying to be interesting before you were able to properly objectify her.