Three hundred is a significant number. It is the score of a perfect game of ten-pin bowling. It is the number of Israelites who followed Gideon to war against the Midianites. 300 is also the sum of ten consecutive primes (13 + 17 + 19 + 23 + 29 + 31 + 37 + 41 + 43 + 47). Also, as of now, it is the number posts on this blog. And it only took a shade under eight and a half years!
The original plan for this post was to run down a series of statistics:
What nation provided the second most beers of the week? (USA is undoubtedly #1.)
What style of beer was most commonly reviewed? (Pale lager is a good bet.)
What subject tag (history, economics, poetry, etc.) was most used?
But for all the time that I have spent on this site, I never did figure out how to capture and use any of that data. And 300 posts is too daunting a figure for me to manually tally those figures. Either some dedicated fan with more time or more computer knowhow than I have will find those answers, or (more likely) nobody cares enough to pursue them.
What I was able to do, however, is list the authors who wrote at least three of the blog’s readings of the week. Let’s have a look:
Fourteen authors have provided three readings of the week:
Aristotle, Francis Bacon, Frédéric Bastiat, Robert Burns, Homer, Rudyard Kipling, Martin Luther, J.S. Mill, John Milton, Michel de Montaigne, Banjo Paterson, Pliny the Younger, Plutarch, Mark Twain
Notably, all three Mill readings came from On Liberty, the only single work to provide that many readings.
Three authors provided four readings:
Thomas Jefferson, Fred Nietzche, Edgar A. Poe
Jefferson gets credit for the Declaration of Independence. As I recall, the particular excerpt made it through Congress pretty much in its original form.
Two sources provided five weekly readings:
Count Leo Tolstoy, The Bible
I am not really sure how fair it is to count Bible readings. For one thing, the five Bible readings are split three-to-two in favor of the Old Testament.
A single man authored six readings of the week:
Post number 299 gave Plato second place outright.
And, with a total of seven readings of the week, a single author stands above the rest:
Despite the fact that many works have provided more than one reading, (such as On Liberty, as noted above,) each Shakespeare, Plato, and Tolstoy reading came from a different work.
What will I do with this information? Not much, I expect. I will probably avoid Shakespeare readings for a while. I will also continue to diversify the pool of authors, particularly by featuring more women and more (relatively) modern thinkers. But mostly I will keep doing what I’ve been doing for the last 300 posts. It’s worked well enough so far.
Here’s to another 300! Although at the current pace, it sure looks like it’ll be more than eight and a half years before I reach post 600.
Beer of the week: King Sue Double IPA – This double IPA comes from Toppling Goliath Brewing Co. in Iowa, a brewery that is very hot right now. Last I checked, BeerAdvocate lists five Toppling Goliath brews in it’s top 50, including the top rated beer overall. On the secondary market, certain Toppling Goliath beers have asking prices approaching four figures.
King Sue, once identified by Business Insider as one of the most highly sought-after beers in the country, is currently ranked forty-ninth on BeerAdvocate. And the hype is not misplaced. King Sue is a very murky pale gold beer, with a huge aroma of mango and pineapple. The flavor also has those tropical fruit notes, together with plenty of malt to round everything out. A special beer for a special occasion.
Reading of the week: Bibliotheca Historica by Diodorus Siculus – In popular culture, the number 300 probably most associated with the Spartans who made the famous last stand against the Persian king Xerxes at Thermopylae. What mostly gets forgotten is the many thousands of other Greeks who fought alongside the Spartans. But “The 300 Spartans, 1,000 additional Lacedaemonians, 3,000 other Peloponnesians, 1,000 Malians, 400 Thebans, 1,000 Phocians, and 1,000 Opuntian Locrians” doesn’t quite roll off the tongue. In the face of “not less than one million soldiers” under the command of the invading Persian king, however, what’s a few thousand give or take?
Question for the week: Excepting small primes, what number has the most cultural significance?
I am no fan of Woodrow Wilson.
He pushed for and then signed the Espionage Act and it’s extension known as the Sedition Act. Through these laws, countless individuals have been harassed, convicted, and sentenced to prison for political (primarily anti-war) speech.
Wilson also successfully campaigned for the presidency on a policy of neutrality in what became World War I. After attaining office, however, embarked on policy that was so unneutral that his Secretary of State, William Jennings Bryan, resigned. He then pushed for the United States to join the otherwise deadlocked European war on the flimsy pretext that some Americans died when the Germans sunk the Lusitania, a ship carrying munitions for the British military. (To say nothing of the fact that the German government gave ample warning that they considered the Lusitania a warship and that Americans should not take passage on it.) It has been argued that had Wilson not joined the war, the United States would not have become the military-industrial nation that it is today, and the First World War would not have ended in the conditions that made Germany ripe for the rise of Adolph Hitler.
Sigmund Freud, in his psychological analysis of Wilson, concluded that the President was a dangerous fanatic whose belief in his own pre-ordained glory made him act with reckless abandon. Freud ultimately decided that the disastrous evil which inevitably resulted from Wilson’s actions made him impossible to sympathize with.
In the interest of keeping this blog post short, I will only mention further that Wilson is currently in the public eye due to calls from Princeton students to rename the Woodrow Wilson School of International Affairs because of his well-known racism.
For all of the above reasons, it may seem reasonable to attempt to wipe Wilson’s legacy from the school and the country. But I side with Diodorus Siculus on the subject of erasing legacies. Rather than eliminating the memory of evil men, it is better to “publish [the] truth to the stain of their memory.” Let the school continue by the name of Wilson, so that for generations to come people will reflect on how his actions resulted in the death and oppression of countless souls.
Beer of the week: Kalnapils Bock – One of the many unintended consequences of the First World War was the declaration of Lithuania as a sovereign nation. This is the first Lithuanian beer that I have had and, unfortunately, it is not very good. Initially, I was surprised to see how pale this beer is for a “bock”. It pours with a fluffy head that fades quickly. The aroma is reminiscent of cheap malt liquor: cheap grain, some alcohol. The aftertaste is decidedly metallic. Step up your game, Lithuania.
Reading for the week: Bibliotheca Historica, by Diodorus Siculus – In the preface to Book XIV of his “universal history”, Diodorus points out that men of high standing are subject to greater censure for their faults. “Let this therefore startle wicked men to consider, that they leave behind them an ugly representation of themselves, to the view of posterity for ever.”
Question for the week: Is it better to totally annihilate the memory of a bad man or to preserve his infamy as a warning to future generations?
*This post was accidentally published prematurely last week. So if you saw it then and couldn’t find it later, that’s why.