Brewers: eight of an eventual twenty three portraits (click on each image to view detail)

 

Jonathan Chapman

with apple cider 

in jam jar

    

    

   Diego Libkind

   with lager in 

   Erlenmeyer flask

   Elynour Rummyng

   with noppy ale

   in wooden tankard

   Paulaner monk 

   with strong beer 

   in wooden tankard

   Chesapeake denizen

   with Budweiser in 

   10-ounce can

   J. C. Jacobsen

   with lager yeast

   in top hat

   Michael Jackson

   with unidentified pint

   in 16-ounce glass

   Unhappy drinker

   with turd beer

   in red plastic cup

A (Very) Brief History of Rhyme

     "Stick with quantitative verse

      For fear of finding something worse."  

                         -- Higgins / Belloc

Once (or twice) upon a time,

some lines of verse began to rhyme.

     It happen'd here, or was it there...?

     I've never quite been certain where.
     Where'er, it were a happ'ning rare.

Before then, lines of all our songs

were sung in feet -- some shorts, some longs.

     Before, each line in meters beat --

     a rumbling thunder, tumbling feet

     behind the hills, across the street.

Before then, assonance was king.

Alliteration did its thing.

      This rush of consonants 'n' vow'ls

      enliven'd elegies 'n' growls,

      quintillas, limericks 'n' howls.

Then sev'ral times (or just the once)

occur'd an unexpected bunce:

     Some someone (none recall a name)

     began to play a rhyming game.

     An' since then shit all sounds the same.