Diary: Inspiration from the Beer Compurgator. Thank you, sir.

The article at Beer Compurgation is the thing, and this one strikes near and dear to my jaundiced, beer-loving heart. It's worth every bit of the time, although American readers need to maintain a sense of context as it pertains to cask ale, CAMRA and the like. That said,

However, a single sentence from Pete Brown's comment also encapsulates the mood I'm trying quite desperately to honor.

But the petty debates only matter if you pay attention to them: the momentum behind beer is now bigger and more powerful than a bunch of bloggers and hopheads can have any control over.

That's right, Pete.

For the past two months, perhaps slightly longer, I've been consciously removing myself from proximity to the pettiness and preening idiocy, and having done so, I feel much relieved about the future of better beer. Granted, as indicated by my choice of words in this paragraph, the recovery is ongoing. I'm a polemicist to the very core of my being, after all.

But it is a recovery, nonetheless. I am, in fact, a "recovering" beer geek/enthusiast/nerd/snob," and it's going to take a while to return to a state of bliss.

I've resolved to reach it. Apologies if I'm occasionally a part of the problem. As ever, I'd rather be part of the solution.

EVERYTHING wrong with Beer at this moment, at Beer Compurgation

Exposed piping. As many mis-matched stools as you can find from your old Science classroom. Religious style beards. And all the pulled pork you'll ever want to eat. We know the formula for opening a "Craft Beer" bar by now and it's tiresome. I miss the pub. I've spoken recently about how much I've enjoyed being in the pub. I like small tap rooms with cosy stools and a fireplace. I like random brass and copper utensils on the walls. I like bar flies that know your name and sit in the same spot with the racing post every day. I like Sky Sports on the television and maybe a pool table around the back. I like inexpensive bar snacks from Big D and Mr. Porky. I just wish this was where I could get a good beer. I've said it before and will say again, when drinking in Leeds I'd rather be sat in the delightful Grove Inn on Back Row than in Tapped Leeds. Yet the remarkable choice of beers always leads me to the grey and soulless new bar. There are no flashing games machines here. There is no memorabilia of bygone days in Yorkshire adorning the walls. There are no locals starting a random conversation with you about the problems Joiners have had in the past six years. There is just beer and I've allowed that to be enough. I've become the embodiment of everything I am criticizing. I like Tapped - and the bar staff have always been delightful here - it just makes me question myself.