Tasting Notes

Speaking of ammonia, a huge bag of turkey guano (non-steaming) and wood shavings did wonders the next spring for my tomato garden when I applied it the preceding fall. What it did for the trunk of my car was a different story altogether.
 
I post my notes regularly on CT. I like it. I agree with Joe wholeheartedly yet at the same time don't see it as an either/or thing. Last night we had a bunch of friends over and had a great time. Messed around, talked about weird things, enjoyed good food and wine, including a couple semi oldies. This morning I'll try to remember my impressions and write them up on CT. I won't try too hard and will just get them out. It is interesting to look back at them. They're not holy writ.

Mostly I find CT notes most helpful to get a sense of where older wines are at in their aging, whether they're closed, etc. I don't pay a ton of attention but just try to get the drift. Mostly I like to look back at my old notes and find it an easy way to find them.
 
I remember this essay fondly. Like all extreme positions, it's wrong in obvious ways, but one should ignore that for all the obvious ways in which it is right or at least likely to incite rethinking. There is one line which I'm sure I responded to originally, but which I will respond to again:

"A great taster is at one with the wine."

Anyone who is at one with the wine, or indeed with anything else, has ceased to have full awareness and should no longer be trusted. But then anyone fully at one with anything would no longer be able to write and so wouldn't write either tasting notes or the above essay.
 
Yes or no: A great taster *wants* to be one with the wine.

A great taster tries to be one with the wine. If it doesn't work, something might be wrong with the wine (or the taster.) If it does work, the wine is in the taster's belly and indeed they become one.

I subscribe to that. I find it works well practically, andm it makes wine commerce more rational.
 
originally posted by Putnam Weekley:
Yes or no: A great taster *wants* to be one with the wine.

A great taster tries to be one with the wine. If it doesn't work, something might be wrong with the wine (or the taster.) If it does work, the wine is in the taster's belly and indeed they become one.

I subscribe to that. I find it works well practically, andm it makes wine commerce more rational.

This is a description of the wine becoming at one with the taster, a very different proposition and one that doesn't necessitate any higher level intellectual activity.
 
originally posted by Jonathan Loesberg:
originally posted by Putnam Weekley:
Yes or no: A great taster *wants* to be one with the wine.

A great taster tries to be one with the wine. If it doesn't work, something might be wrong with the wine (or the taster.) If it does work, the wine is in the taster's belly and indeed they become one.

I subscribe to that. I find it works well practically, andm it makes wine commerce more rational.

This is a description of the wine becoming at one with the taster, a very different proposition and one that doesn't necessitate any higher level intellectual activity.

Are you sure?

Do we use vines or do vines use us?

 
originally posted by Putnam Weekley:
originally posted by Jonathan Loesberg:
originally posted by Putnam Weekley:
Yes or no: A great taster *wants* to be one with the wine.

A great taster tries to be one with the wine. If it doesn't work, something might be wrong with the wine (or the taster.) If it does work, the wine is in the taster's belly and indeed they become one.

I subscribe to that. I find it works well practically, andm it makes wine commerce more rational.

This is a description of the wine becoming at one with the taster, a very different proposition and one that doesn't necessitate any higher level intellectual activity.

Are you sure?

Do we use vines or do vines use us?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Botany_of_Desire

The wine is in me. It ceases to have separate existence. I continue to do so. I would call that the wine becoming at one with me. It also tells you why you don't want to become at one with the wine. You can try to prove that that isn't so with philosophy and biology but empty bottles and full bellies make the case fairly decisively for me.
 
originally posted by Jonathan Loesberg:
originally posted by Putnam Weekley:
originally posted by Jonathan Loesberg:
originally posted by Putnam Weekley:
Yes or no: A great taster *wants* to be one with the wine.

A great taster tries to be one with the wine. If it doesn't work, something might be wrong with the wine (or the taster.) If it does work, the wine is in the taster's belly and indeed they become one.

I subscribe to that. I find it works well practically, andm it makes wine commerce more rational.

This is a description of the wine becoming at one with the taster, a very different proposition and one that doesn't necessitate any higher level intellectual activity.

Are you sure?

Do we use vines or do vines use us?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Botany_of_Desire

The wine is in me. It ceases to have separate existence. I continue to do so. I would call that the wine becoming at one with me. It also tells you why you don't want to become at one with the wine. You can try to prove that that isn't so with philosophy and biology but empty bottles and full bellies make the case fairly decisively for me.

Does the action and the experience change you?
 
originally posted by Putnam Weekley:
originally posted by Jonathan Loesberg:
originally posted by Putnam Weekley:
originally posted by Jonathan Loesberg:
originally posted by Putnam Weekley:
Yes or no: A great taster *wants* to be one with the wine.

A great taster tries to be one with the wine. If it doesn't work, something might be wrong with the wine (or the taster.) If it does work, the wine is in the taster's belly and indeed they become one.

I subscribe to that. I find it works well practically, andm it makes wine commerce more rational.

This is a description of the wine becoming at one with the taster, a very different proposition and one that doesn't necessitate any higher level intellectual activity.

Are you sure?

Do we use vines or do vines use us?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Botany_of_Desire

The wine is in me. It ceases to have separate existence. I continue to do so. I would call that the wine becoming at one with me. It also tells you why you don't want to become at one with the wine. You can try to prove that that isn't so with philosophy and biology but empty bottles and full bellies make the case fairly decisively for me.

Does the action and the experience change you?

According to certain definitions of "change," sure. But I'm still here and it's still not.
 
If I replace a broken headlight on my car, it is still my car. Agreed?

If I then replace a fender, the same result. Yes?

In fact, if I replace every single piece, so that not one atom of the original car is still in use, it is still "my car".
 
originally posted by Jeff Grossman:
If I replace a broken headlight on my car, it is still my car. Agreed?

If I then replace a fender, the same result. Yes?

In fact, if I replace every single piece, so that not one atom of the original car is still in use, it is still "my car".
Legally, when you change the VIN number it becomes another car, but it might still be yours. I'm qualified to say this because I live in Detroit.
 
According to certain definitions of "change," sure. But I'm still here and it's still not.

Robin Hansen thinks his identity may live in the structures of his brain, so he is considering freezing his head.

Tyler Cowen reminds him of the evidence that our briains are located partially in our guts, and characterized by hormone interactions:

To each his or her own. Over the years I've gradually committed more and more to the idea that wine - as an art form, and as part of a complex biological symbiosis - may be expected to change me as importantly as I change it, and I feel this insight has given me significant practical help as a wine trade worker.
 
originally posted by Putnam Weekley:
According to certain definitions of "change," sure. But I'm still here and it's still not.

Robin Hansen thinks his identity may live in the structures of his brain, so he is considering freezing his head.

Tyler Cowen reminds him of the evidence that our briains are located partially in our guts, and characterized by hormone interactions:

To each his or her own. Over the years I've gradually committed more and more to the idea that wine - as an art form, and as part of a complex biological symbiosis - may be expected to change me as importantly as I change it, and I feel this insight has given me significant practical help as a wine trade worker.

As I said, "according to some definitions of 'change'" I actually agree, certainly with regard to art that I want it to change me or I'm not interested (I'm not one of the "wine is art" people, but that doesn't matter here). But given how one would change, the one way it wouldn't work would be if you became as one with the artwork. For artwork to change you, there has to be you, it and friction. Some artwork sometimes evokes the delusion that you are at one with that. Sometimes that delusion is part of the friction by which it works. When it's not, you are in the presence of kitsch. So sayeth I. And the basis on which I say it goes back to what it would mean to be at one with an object and what it means to think and my sense that what we are is tied up with thought.
 
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