THAT REFUTATION

It’s well established that PBR is The Beer to Drink (thanks, Castro!). But it shouldn’t be. The idea of a Hipster Standby is impossible; once enough people know about something it CANNOT still be cool. At the gym yesterday, homeboy with those BIG weights made tiny, tiny guns during the chorus of Paper Planes.

People are squeamish about shopping at Urban Outfitters; people are squeamish about reading Pitchfork; people are terrified, outraged and pissed off about being identified as hipsters. So the PBR thing makes no sense to me. I saw a dude with a t-shirt with a PBR logo that had replaced the words with “Mob Mentality”—nice idea, buddy, but the REAL way to effect change in people’s beer choice is to write about it on the internet.

But I don’t want to be one of those guys who just complain about something without proposing a solution.

KEYSTONE LIGHT

There are a number of really tragically similar products when it comes to light beers, but Keystone Light is the apotheosis of the Light Beer: it is the ABSOLUTE CHEAPEST, it comes in those hilarious TALL CANS, its name is FUCKING DUMB, and it tastes THE WORST. Let’s do this 7th grade writing test—argumentative prompt—style:

Keystone light is the absolute cheapest because it costs less than any other beers. So for example, because it has a lower price tag, and your income is fixed by the amount your parents give you per month, you can by more beers.

The tall cans serve to simultaneously remind you that you’re drinking beer—because only beer (and I guess Red Bull but come on) comes in that size of can—and that the beer you’re drinking is NOT a PBR. Derrida calls this phenomenon différance, a word worth knowing but too weighty to explain here. Suffice it to say that it’s a French neologism combining the words difference and “to defer,” and that it points to the way things can only be defined negatively—that is, by explaining what they are not—and to Derrida’s idea of an infinite string of signifiers deferring meaning indefinitely.

I feel like I cannot even begin to explain how terrible a name Keystone Light is. However, just try to come up with a worse name. See? You can’t. Also, you can call them “stones.” As in, “Oh fuck there’s only 19 stones left in this case I brought to the party and it’s the only beer in the fridge and people are bitching about being out of alcohol even though I told them they were welcome to some stones.”

This is the important part. Keystone Light tastes super, super shitty. This is good because no one will steal your beer. Also, it makes it impossible to drink outside of the party setting—it is impossible to drink a Keystone Light recreationally. These both contribute to the one true goal of any good party Bolshevik: to party.

But partying is more than just an activity. It’s a state of mind. I’ve been reading a lot of Dostoevsky criticism of late, and I’m especially intrigued by Mikhail Bakhtin’s idea of carnivalization in Dostoevsky, which I’ll extrapolate to Keystone Light here. During a carnival, the everyday, mundane life is turned on its head. There is a spirit of infinite permissibility, and everyone is equal. Endemic to this radical equalization is a change in status, whether up or down, to the level of everyone. Because we are forced to change we are uncomfortable, and we combat this with alcohol. I’m not saying this is good or bad, just that it happens.

PBR has become everyday, has become comfortable. We have even become acclimated to the flavor, so it doesn’t even really taste that bad any more. FUCK THAT. Sitting around playing video games smoking weed and drinking PBR with your boys is comfortable. Going to a party, talking to people you don’t know, trying to get with chicks, and drinking Keystone Light is uncomfortable.

AND COMFORT IS THE GOD OF THE BOURGEOISIE. We are all bourgeoisie, like it or not, but parties are our opportunities to transcend that abominable comfort. Drink Keystone Light.

Old Major