WhiskeyVille
......On This Moon
And while there is no sign of Faye Dunaway, Mickey Rourke or even the ghost of Charles Bukowski, there is one hell of a gaggle of global Barflies.
It's a place called the Moon of Alabama.
And for a long time after the Bartender from Philly shuttered his Whiskey Bar, the Moon was a reasonably well-guarded troll-free zone that catered to all manner of lively conversation and heavy drinking.
After all, these are not good times for wide-open discussions on the body politic given the current prohibition on free thinking and the difficulty avoiding .gov-tagged tracking engines.
But all that has changed now.
Because Billmon just outed the place, with a vengeance, and the doors have been blown wide open.
Heck, things are so far out of control that even the bartender himself is commenting again.
I, for one, am very pleased to be back in my seat in that darkened corner over by the bad drawing of Kurt Weill, nursing something my tastebuds can't quite place that has been served up by the hosts, Bernhard and Jerome.
Something single malted.....an interesting blend of Old-Europe and Neo-Jeffersonianism Rising perhaps?
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