My wife got me the best birthday present ever.  She got me a 15 gallon brew pot.

Brett and the Brewpot

This thing is so stinking big I can stick both my boys in it and have room for veggies!  (Note:  I am NOT endorsing cannibalism!  I’ll leave that to the British Navy.   )

Boys and the Brewpot

Boys in the Brewpot

So, what do you need to do to when you have a new brewpot?  Make beer.  DUH!

Not knowing what to make and desiring a nice,

This isn’t really about my creed, but more like the story behind why I hold to the creed I do today.

We had an assignment to write a personal creed in our writing class.  As an added twist, our teacher asked us to make it a bit more story like, telling how we got to believe what we do.  I had a few ideas on what to write, but as time approached to head to class, I quickly spit this out.

Then, we got to class and our teacher asked for people to share their creeds.  So, I got to read this aloud to the class and strangely enough it got a good response.  I was a bit curious how it would be received given the seemingly strong anti-Christian bias I’ve observed on campus.

So, here is the story behind what I believe:

Years ago I had a radical, life changing encounter with the divine.  This wasn’t a willing encounter, mind you.  I was quite reluctant to change, and such an encounter cannot but help to change you.  Since that encounter, my world has been changed, and despite my initial protestations, I am now grateful for that encounter.

I grew up in a fairly non-religious home; my parents made little to no effort on any sort of religious training or thought.  I learned how to swear from them, and watching my mother I gained an appreciation for a liberal application of a certain single digit gesture.  But, without guidance, I was left on my own to explore questions related to my purpose in life and the possibility of the existence of God.  Growing up in the country, I was perpetually surrounded by evidence of design and a mind with amazing creativity, and these things unconsciously became part of my conscious realization.

My mind was further shocked with the death of my grandparents.  My grandfather died when I was 10 and my grandmother when I was 12.  Leaving behind all their possessions, which were fought over by my mother and her siblings, they left my mother with a book.  This book happened to be about a person named Jesus.  Now, I knew that people referred to Jesus as the Son of God and I knew to use his name when I felt like swearing, but that was about all I knew.  With summer arriving and friends gone, I found myself with free time and boredom, and with questions about life and death and eternity on my mind, I proceeded to read this book about Jesus.

What I didn’t count on was how captivating and amazing a person he was.  At the age of 12, not having read anything longer than a comic book, I polished off a 750 page book.  The wonder and non-conformity of this person spoke of how incredible and unique he was.  He didn’t come across as a regular person in the rut of life, he went against the grain and shook people up.  He hung out with prostitutes, turned water to wine, challenged the thinking of religious leaders, and turned people’s thinking on their side.  And as I read, I knew I had a choice before me.  Do I follow after this Jesus who promised life and peace and answers to the questions about eternity, or do I continue as I have been?  Now, I was terribly frightened, because I knew that if I chose to follow this Jesus that I would be different, and everyone would be able to see that.  The fear of being different was very real to me as a young 12 year old, so with my heart in torment I proceeded to reject this man, Jesus.

Now, maybe you could say that I made the right decision, as so many people who claim to follow this Jesus are hypocrites and bigots and think they are morally superior to everyone else.  Those things didn’t matter to me.  This radical life changing person has called me to a relationship with the divine, and I spurned him.  What other people did with it is their own business.  I tried as best as I could to bury this amidst heavy metal music, computers, and comic books, but I could never get rid of the deep stirring of my conscience.

Despite my attempts to sear my conscience, it seemed that wherever I went and whatever I did, God was somehow pursuing me.  In college I met this guy who was one of those annoying type of Jesus followers who seemed to exemplify everything I disliked about them.  He had short red hair, was constantly bent out of shape over the slightest things, and ready to argue about abortion, politics, or whatever.  Not having anyone else to hang out with, I hung out with him.  What a mistake!

After all these years of running from God I finally couldn’t run any longer.  My will had weakened, my heart was heavy, and I knew I needed to give my life over to Jesus.  In a small apartment, I finally surrendered my will and gave myself over to God and trusted in the promises that Jesus made.  That event changed me.

My bible thumping friend began to notice a difference in me.  I started going to church with him.  My friends noticed a difference in me.  I immediately stopped swearing, which in and of itself is nothing short of a miracle.  My old friends stopped hanging out with me; they saw a visible change in me that they didn’t like.  I had a new purpose in life and I felt alive for the first time in my life.

Some people may dismiss religion, God, the Bible, and Jesus, and sometimes the behavior of certain Christians give them good excuses to dismiss them.  Some argue that God doesn’t exist, and more argue that all paths lead to God.  I disagree.  I know personally that God has changed my life.  I am a different person because of Him.  I’ve read evidence proving what I believe, and I’ve read the arguments against what I believe.  But I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that God is real, the divine seeks people, and that Jesus was sent from God.  My life is is all the proof I need.

Nightmare Of Futures Past

My first day of Writing 122 class, and we had to do some free writing.  She gave us a title to spur our free writing on:  Where I’m coming from and where I’m going.  Rather than to do some reflective free writing on my life and future, I decided to do something else.  A fictional story with the main character asking this question.  And what better setting for my fictional character than the X-Men inspired future of Nightmares of Future Past.

So, here’s my story:

Where did I come from?  Well, to be honest, I was raised in one of the worst times in American history.  It was the height of mutant terror.  I remember the images coming across the television of New York City burning.  I remember the mutant trials being televised, the images of murder and fear that they inspired.  But I also remember the betrayal, and that stings the worst.

My favorite hero was on television that day, the man who begrudgingly helped to hunt down the mutants.  Captain America.  Standing in front of a group of the giant robotic Sentinels, he addressed the nation.  He spoke of the terrible place our country was going.  And then he was killed live on national television.  The Sentinels, whose job it was to eradicate the mutant menace, turned on him and killed him.  And with him, the rest of the super heroes were killed as well.

My parents were very worried during that time.  They spent a lot of evenings talking in whispered tones, saying things about civil rights, about freedoms, and about the takeover of the government.  They were afraid.  The things they thought would protect them, their rights and protections in the courts, seemed like a thing of the past.  Their worst fears realized the day that the police came and took my brother from us.

My brother was 13 when they came for him.  He was a football star in school.  All the boys wanted to be like him, and all the girls wanted to date him.  He had good grades, was an all around honest kid, and was well liked by everyone who knew him.  When the results of our mandatory genetic testing came back, it was discovered that he had the X-Factor.  He was capable of bearing a mutant child.  Normally those with the X-Factor are interned and sterilized, but in the confusion of those early days he was somehow killed.  We still don’t know how.

This is where I came from.  Where I am going is a different story.

Our squad approached the perimeter of the energy shield protecting the Sentinel base.  Thanks to the wild weasel we had planted, the Sentinels would be mostly gone.  Jacques activated the jammer, silencing the Sentinels communications and scanning abilities.  Frederick used the disruptor to short out the energy shield.  I rushed to my position and ready the EMP cannon.  Our hearts stopped for a moment as we saw a Sentinel step out from the base and stare in our direction.

This is my current destination:  Sentinel Base 125.  I joined the resistance movement in my teens, when I learned that when a people have no rights and no voice and the state becomes a tyranny, that people of good conscience must raise up and oppose that state and overthrow its shackles.  I was 16 when I signed on.  I am now 21, have been living in Canada for the last 4 years, and am now about to do the unthinkable.

I take quick aim as blaster fire erupts from my left, Pierre distracting the Sentinel long enough for me to do my job.  I hit the Sentinel with a shot from the EMP cannon.  Immediately, a shockwave rolled out as the blast hit the Sentinel.  All our electronic gear died instantly.  The Sentinel, a 20 foot tall instrument of fear, that beast that struck terror in our sub consciousness, fell over as if it were a tin can.  The base was crippled.

Where am I going now?  A hover plane met us at the rendezvous point in time for the extraction.  Canada is our destination.  Back to my new home.  What am I leaving?  Well, for one thing, my home, and another thing, a nice little surprise for the remaining Sentinels that will be returning to their crippled base.  Motion activated EMP bombs were a recent addition to the resistance arsenal, and this will be its first live test.

I live, I dream, I yearn for the day when the oppression will end.  America, the once great refuge for all people seeking freedom will one day be free again.  One day we can overthrow our robotic oppressors and all people, mutant and human, can join hands in freedom and build a new future for this once great land.

Viking Drinking Horn filled with Mead

Ok, I’ve been negligent lately on my blog.  So much so that I can’t remember the exact day I brewed by first batch of mead.  I believe it was the 23rd of December, so I’ll go with that.

Deciding to brave this journey, I began with a very basic mead recipe.  15 pounds of honey, water, yeast nutrient and yeast.  Pretty basic.  I used clover honey, since that was available and didn’t cost me anything.  Water was free and the wine/champagne yeast was $2.50 or something like that (I forget right now what yeast I used).  Yeast nutrients were $3-$4.  So, my total in this batch is $5-6.  Oh, what I could have free honey the rest of my life!

The question of whether or not to boil came up, and I defaulted to Papazian’s advice:  Boil for 15 minutes and call it good.  This neutralizes a lot of the nasties that are normally in honey and preserves some of the floral quality (though not all).  So, I boiled 1.5 gallons of water, added the honey, stirred and waited 15 minutes, then put it in my carboy.

Talk about easy!

I still have the whole funnel issue with my carboy, so I used a measuring cup to slowly transfer the mead to the carboy.  Once most of it was out of the brew pot I lifted the pot to pour the remainder in.  All in all the safest way to do it.

Once the honey was cooled I rehydreated the yeast, took the initial gravity (1.106), and pitched the yeast.

As of today (January 5), it is still fermenting away.  February 3rd will be 6 weeks fermenting, so I’ll check it then to see where it’s at.  I am really looking forward to this.  This will be a new experience for me.

Last Friday (12/11) I was finally able to get to bottling my two batches of beer, my Holiday Cheer and my Unspoken Passion Imperial Stout (batches 33 and 34).  I had originally planned on transferring the stout to a secondary to help it settle, but with my time limitations I just went straight to bottling.

Now, doing this all by myself took way too long.  I started getting things ready to bottle at 7:30pm and wasn’t finished until 12:00 am.

Holiday Cheer Beer Label

Bottling the Holiday Cheer, the final gravity came out to 1.016 for an alcohol content by volume of 5.775%. The flavor was oh so yummy, but the orange peel bitterness was more pronounced than last years batch. I am really hoping it tones down after some aging, as that was the one thing last year that I wanted mellowed as well. At least I know now how to better gauge the bottled orange peel spice.

Unspoken Passion beer label

Now, the Unspoken Passion was more of a pain.  The one beer I’ve had the most trouble with.

I began transferring the beer into my bottling bucket, which is 6.5 gallons.  I topped the bucket off and had a bit of liquid left still.  I used 1 cup of corn sugar for bottle conditioning rather than 3/4 cup due to the volume.  Final gravity came out way too high, 1.030 for a final alcohol of 7.09%.  I expected this to be much higher.  I did lose a lot of malt extract with my boil over, though.  Also had I transferred it to a secondary and let it finish fermenting there it would have no doubt been lower.

The flavor on this was … wow!  Once it finishes bottle fermenting it’s going to be an awesome beer.  Now, if only Santa would bring me a bigger brew kettle, then I won’t have troubles with this beer in the future!

Two rednecks, Bubba and Cooter, decide to go to college. Bubba goes first, and he is advised to take maths, history and logic.

– “What’s logic?” says Bubba.
– “Well, let me give you an example,” says the professor. “Do you own a tractor?”
– “Sure do,” says Bubba.
– “Okay. Then I assume, using logic, that you have a yard.”
– “That’s real good,” says Bubba, in awe.
– “Logic also tells me that since you have a yard, you also have a house. Is that right?”
– “Gawly!” says Bubba.
– “And since you own a house and a house is tough to take care of by yourself, the odds are that you have a wife. Right?”
– “Betty Mae! This is incredible!”
– “Finally, since you have a wife, logically I can assume you are heterosexual. Is that right?”
– “You are absolutely right! Why that’s the most fascinatin’ thang I ever heerd of. I can’t wait to take this here logic class!”

Bubba, proud of the new world opening up to him, goes back into the hallway where Cooter is waiting.
– “So what classes are ya takin’?” says Cooter.
– “Maths, history and logic,” says Bubba.
– “What in tarnation is logic?”
– “Let me give you an example,” says Bubba. “Do you own a tractor?”
– “No.”
– “Then you’re gay.”

Hmm.... Raspberry Chocolate

So, if you have 11lbs of raspberries, want something reminiscent of chocolate and raspberries, and you love beer, what do you do?  Easy!  Make Papazian’s Unspoken Passion Imperial Stout.

11 lbs of Raspberries

So, this freaking expensive beer makes 6.5 gallons, and takes 6lbs light malt extract, TWO 4lb stout kits, 1.5lbs crystal malt, 1/2lb black roasted malt, 3/4lb roasted barley, 1/2lb chocolate malt, 3oz strong bittering hops (I used Chinook), 2oz of Cascades, and 11lbs of raspberries.  As I said, FREAKING EXPENSIVE!  Fortunately, I had some side work I did that was

Holiday Cheer

It’s that time of year again!  Time to make some good holiday beer!  I wanted to start this one sooner, but given I didn’t have any money until recently I couldn’t exactly buy my supplies.

For this years batch I did a few things different.  First, I used the actual Saaz finishing hops, as opposed to the Hallertauer I used last year.  Second, I didn’t add the honey and 1/2 of the liquid malt extract until 15 minutes left in the boil.  Third, I used dried orange peel that I bought in the seasoning section of the store.

The problem with the orange peel from the store is I had no idea how much to add.  I did some Googling, and found that 1 Tbsp is equivalent to one medium size orange.  So, I went with that, adding 4 Tbsp of dried orange peels at the end where the recipe called for it.

This morning I took the initial gravity, 1.060, and pitched the yeast.  Took an initial taste, and whamo!  Bitter, just as I would expect, with tons of backend sweetness.  Oooh, going to be a good holiday season!

A new study from Spain shows that drinking six beers a day leads to a healthier heart.

Seriously, I’m not making this up.

Check the new story on this here.  Very interesting to see all the health related benefits that moderate alcohol consumption has.

Back in 1993 I took an inductive bible study class.  One of the assignments was to write an Epistle, styled after the epistles that the Apostle Paul wrote.  Well, not one to miss a chance at having a little fun, I decided to write a smart alec joke of an epistle, aimed at a certain group of men on Multnomah’s campus who vowed to stay single and avoid dating and the like.  Funny terms for these guys were “Bachelor to the Rapture” and “C.I.A. – Celibates In Action.”  These guys were perfect fuel for my comedic sarcasm.

So, without further ado, here is my epistle to single men:

Brett, a student at Multnomah by the will of God.

To all unattached men, those faithful to the single life, dedicated
bachelors to the rapture.

Grace and peace to you from the Lord Jesus Christ.
I thank God when I hear of your dedication to the single life, how
you have persevered in keeping women out of your life, not getting
entangled by their evil desires.

For their ways are mysterious and their devices clever, constantly
seeking to entangle us like a fly in a spiders web.  They put on make
up, arrange their hair, wear perfume, fancy jewelry and nice clothes all in the hope of securing for themselves a husband.  Like a lion on the prowl they are constantly seeking whomever they can devour.  And once they have a man slowly they begin draining his savings account and his mind.   Losing the ability to think independantly from the woman, the man begins to get wishy washy, walking around in a cloud of confusion, thinking of nothing but the woman who is enslaving him.  Some of you once lived like this, but you have been set free, redeemed from the curse of woman, called to live a holy and single life.

Therefore, brothers, I urge you in view of God’s mercy to offer yourselves as single bachelors, holy and free to God.  This is your intelligent act of worship.  Keep your mind focused on things above, avoiding evil desires of dating and marriage which you once pursued while you were still enslaved to the expectations of your peers and those in the church.   Remember Paul’s words, “It is good for a man not to marry.”  Don’t become slaves again to the evil desires of women but live your lives in freedom to the Lord.

After classes tomorrow I will come to you in the men’s dorm, for I shall
soon be going to work.  I hope not to make a passing visit but to spend
some quality time with you in male bonding.

Greet all the brothers and single men in the dorm, and give them a holy
high five for me.

May the grace of the Lord keep you unattached for life.