Mr Portman bans Tokyo*, but who complained?

Today, we received correspondence from Mr Portman that he has, in all his infinite wisdom, decided to deprive the British public of Tokyo*.  We have, once again, violated the eternal and enduring code (it is kinda like the 12 commandments for alcohol peeps, Portman plays Moses). Section 3.2(f) is also a new one to add to our collection, I do not believe we have violated this one before which is neat. Another thing scored off our ‘things to do before 30 list’, I had thought we may struggle to get past 3.2(d).

Here is an extract from their communication.

Complainants:

member of the public

Decision:

Under Code paragraph 3.2(f) UPHELD

The Panel noted that the bottle label featured the statement: “Everything in moderation, including moderation itself.  What logically follows is that you must, from time, have excess.  This beer is for those times.”  The Panel considered that this was advocating excessive consumption and furthermore considered that this was particularly unwise in the context of a product that contained six units of alcohol in a single 330ml bottle.  Accordingly, it found the product’s packaging in breach of Code paragraph 3.2(f).

Sliding Scale of good to evil, from which end you start from is subjective.

The statement actually offended me. I offended myself with my own statement, retrospectively of course which excludes any possibility of schizophrenia mudding the waters. Real-time simultaneous offense and gratification is not my thing, I have a brewery to run.  This is still condemningly ironic however,  considering I actually penned the aforementioned fine prose. Alarmingly the more I mused over it, the more offended I became, the more I thought this simple statement may actually lead to the downfall of Western civilisation. I was not sleeping, not thinking straight, reduced to a shadow of my former self, crushed under the weight of this moral dilemma to trump all moral dilemmas.

When I could take the internal wrangle any longer, I confided my fears, laid open my soul (or my pseudonym’s soul to be precise) and gambled all our collective destinies by confiding in the only one deemed capable of making up for the apparent shortfall in consumer intelligence.

I put the entire fate of Tokyo* in the hands of the only bright shining light of morality, reason and justice in our troubled times – Mr Portman.

I lay my bear naked body at his sacrificial alter (not literally).