So, I decided to make a comedy series about non-alcoholic craft beer called Hops & Giggles. I have used the help of my good friend GPT and in this post I had it write a non-acoholic hipsterish article in the voice of George Carlin. All for good laughs, enjoy!
The story
Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve seen it all now. I’ve witnessed the end of the world as we know it, the ultimate demise of good taste, and the final insult to our collective intelligence: non-alcoholic beer. The once proud and buzzing craft beer scene in the US has been reduced to a sad congregation of lifeless, watered-down pretenders. I ask you, is there no justice left in this world?
Now, before you go accusing me of being a beer snob or a puritanical teetotaler, let me assure you: I have nothing against folks who don’t drink. Heck, I don’t care if you gargle mouthwash or sip on kombucha all day. But for the love of hops, don’t desecrate the sacred realm of beer by taking away its one redeeming quality: the alcohol.
You see, I remember a time when craft beer was an art form, a way for passionate brewers to express their creativity and bring people together. Back then, it was about taste, passion, and craftsmanship. We’d gather around, marveling at the rich flavors, the new and exciting combinations, and the magical dance of hops and malts. We toasted to life, we laughed, and we savored every drop.
Now, we’re stuck with a sad imitation of those golden days, like watching a mime perform in a soundproof booth. Non-alcoholic beer, with all the enthusiasm of a wet sock, has taken over like a virus. And it’s spreading faster than you can say “hold the hops.”
Just the other day, I walked into my favorite watering hole, expecting to find the familiar aroma of barley and yeast. But what met my nostrils was nothing short of a horror show: the cold, sterile scent of sobriety. I glanced around, my heart sinking as I saw the patrons sipping their glorified club sodas, nodding and smiling like they were enjoying a fine wine.
And you know what the worst part is? These are the same people who, not so long ago, were waxing poetic about the subtle notes of citrus in their favorite double IPA. They’d spend hours debating the merits of a Belgian tripel versus an American barleywine. Now, they’re content to slurp down a pale, flavorless liquid that’s about as exciting as a glass of lukewarm tap water.
I’ll tell you, it’s enough to make a man weep. Or at least, reach for something stronger than this sad excuse for beer.
Now, I understand that some folks might have their reasons for going the non-alcoholic route. Health concerns, personal choices, whatever. I respect that. But for the rest of you, the ones who’ve just hopped onto the latest trend like a bunch of mindless lemmings, I have one question: Why? Why do this to yourselves, to your taste buds, and to the once-great institution of beer?
I know, I know. Some of you will tell me that non-alcoholic beer has come a long way. That there are some decent options out there. Well, let me be clear: I don’t care if you’ve managed to concoct a non-alcoholic beer that tastes like the nectar of the gods. It’s still a crime against humanity, and I won’t stand for it.
So, to all you former craft beer enthusiasts who’ve turned your back on the holy union of hops and alcohol, I implore you: Wake up. Reconsider your choices. And for the love of all things fermented, put down that non-alcoholic swill.
Read more about non-alcoholic craft beer in our blog.
A reader said this version was not humorous or opinionated enough, so we had AI write a more humorous and opinionated version. Read A Hopless Adventure Through the Sober Wasteland.
Hops & Giggles Part 2: How Two Brewers Moon-Landed into the Oval Office: A Tale of Hops, Hope and the Highest Office