A day in the life of an alchemist

A day in the life of an alchemist


Well shit. Apparently I’m the correspondent for Whiskey Tribe now. Do you know what that means? If so, shoot me a quick email and tell me. Cause I got no fuckin’ idea myself.

It’s some kind of writing gig; I know that. Some sort of regular column or something. Writing about whiskey. Maybe that’s all I need to know. I’m writing about whiskey. I can do that. I got this.

So for my first official correspondence piece, let’s start way back at the beginning.


Alchemists discovered the principles of distillation many years ago. Two, maybe three thousand years ago. I don’t know. What do you want from me? I’m not a historian. Close enough. Whatever. Good for the fuckin’ alchemists.

But what fascinates me is thinking about the first time an alchemist decided to distill beer and accidentally created the first whiskey. That was a day to remember right there. I don’t know who that guy was, but there should be a holiday named after him. I’m thinking it went something like this:

Yo, Tycho


Break out the fuckin’ still. We’re gonna make something.

What are we making, Albertus? Fulminating vitriol? Tincture of horned silver? Spirit of hartshorn?

Fuck that shit. We’re gonna distill beer.

Why would we do that?

Jesus, I gotta spell everything out for you? You’re a goddam alchemist. Think about it for chrissakes.

Uhhhhhh…maybe…nope. I got nothin’.

Okay look. Logic tells us the spirit of happiness and joy lives in fermented liquids, right? I mean she’s IN the beer. Inside it somehow. That’s a fuckin’ first principle. It’s science. Everyone knows that.

Yeah. Sure. I guess so, if you think about it. Stands to reason.

So let’s distill that bitch outa there! We’ll run a solutio operation on the beer. Then heat that shit up. Suck the spirit out and funnel her over into that flask.

The Meister’s special flask?

No, fuckwad. The one next to it. That round one.

Okay. She’s probably gonna be pissed as hell, getting pulled out of the beer. Spirits can be touchy about stuff like that.

That’s why she’ll be in the flask. She can’t do shit in there. Plus, she’s the spirit of joy and happiness and altered states and blah blah blah, all that crap. She’s probably drunk herself most of the time. Just get the still, godammit. Help me set that shit up.


It looks clear. Like water. Do you think she’s in there? In a more purified form or something?

I don’t know. Why don’t you taste it.

I’m not gonna taste it. You taste it.

I’m not tasting it.

Did you smell it? I never smelled anything like that before.

Go get alchemist Mikey. That dumbass. He’ll drink anything.


And that my friends, is how whiskey was invented. Admittedly, I might have played fast and loose with some of the facts. But like I said, I’m no historian. It had to be something like that though. Probably. Anyway, thank God those guys pulled the spirit out of beer and gave us this fiery, mysterious, mood-altering beverage we call whiskey.

And I’m gonna write about that beverage.

And we’re gonna have fun.