Lately, an admittance of truth has been creeping up in the back of my mind. A question has posed itself to me, a question I am not afraid to ask. A beam of enlightenment has projected itself on to me from the heavens, and a sudden knowledge and wisdom has been bestowed upon me. (Well, maybe that’s slightly dramatic. It wasn’t quite like that. It’s exaggerated. And untruthful. It’s actually a lie. I’m sorry.) The burning question is thus: why do we drink alcohol? This is a discourse concerning a topic much ignored in our society. Like the subjunctive, the culture of consuming alcohol is mindlessly ignored and unquestioned by the masses, and seems to always have been. Now, the majority of people enjoy alcohol. After all, we are in Ireland, and our tiny country is famous for being drenched in a delicate mixture of whiskey and rainfall. It's part of our heritage really; we are all spiritual auld men, sitting at the bar of life, drinking away at our numbered pints of Guinness. What I just want to point out is how strange it is that most of us are completely okay with drinking a magic potion in order to feel witty and appealing. The first answer that comes to your mind is quite simple. It’s obviously fun. Who doesn’t want to go and get absolutely bananas on 3 for a tenner Jaegerbomb deals, shift a mouldy one, pass out in the bathroom stall and then vomit all over the taxi on the way home? It’s the ultimate dream.*
14 Kate Reilly questions drinking culture and the surreal experience of a night out.
The land of states and scholars
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