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The Refreshing Tale Of The God Of Beer
All Hail The God Of Ale, Mohl-Sun The Canadian

A classical painting of God providing the Earthly refreshment to Man.

ANCIENT CANADA--The Canadian obsession with drinking beer is not just a cultural phenomena, it is an act of faith. Canadians have a long history with the malted liquor, starting with their early worship of the gods of beer.

Barbarian Canadians first learned the secret of beer--it is told--when the sky opened up thousands of years ago and a great golden figure came down upon the earth bringing a holy recipe for making a refreshing beverage made up of only three simple Earthly ingredients (barley, malt, hops) that could be mixed with fresh spring water.

All who saw the beer God began to suffer intense headaches and a strange dizziness that made their straw sleeping mats appear to spin, before eventually forcing them into unconsciousness. When the primitive Canadians awoke, their mouths tasted like the ass of a yak, but they now had brewing knowledge.

The ancestral Canucks then began to brew their own beers in wooden cauldrons made from hollowed-out maple tree stumps, and then stored the finished product in vessels sewn from dried caribou skins.

The first drinking Canadians would consume the draught from the carved-out horn of a ram. But because a horn has no base, they were obliged to drink it all at once or clutch their horn to their stomach--to prevent others from stealing it.

This ritual continues to this day, where at parties around the country young men will either down their drink in one "chug-a-lug" gulp or else, if there is no need to impress, they will hold their bottles close to their bodies as they discuss whether Marshall McLuhan or Mackenzie King was the better goalie.

Archaeological digs near Montreal have found some of the oldest depictions of the ancient gods of beer that Canadians revered as providers of the amber nectar. The images, scratched onto the top of a petrified picnic table, show Mohl-Sun, the god of fermented spirits, raising a bottle to the sky and either yelling, cheering, or toasting in some fashion.

"You can tell He's really whooping it up," said Andre Pelletier, chief archaeologist at the site, which is close to present-day McGill University. "From the angle of His knees I'd say Hhe's already drunk a two-four, or maybe just a case. A half-sack at least. He's almost falling backwards."

"Myths describe Mohl-Sun as a wise and caring god," said Andre. "Mohl-Sun's Canadians looked up to him for wisdom, and sanctuary, a means to escape from the everyday pressures of life. They honoured their god in the time-honoured fashion of belly-patting and belching in respect."

Mohl-Sun is thought to be the inspiration behind the famous beerhenge monument, a large circular structure in Old Montreal made up of hundreds of thousands of piled-up empties.

"It just looks like a mound of broken bottles and beer caps now," said Andre, "but it must have been an awesome sight 3000 years ago when it was thrown together. The sun would hit the top bottles during the spring and fall equinoxes--and shine through to the other side--as if it were pointing towards some ancient liquor store."

Although Mohl-Sun was the dominant beer god in Central Canada, the West Coast had its own drunken deity.

Kokanee the Clever was a trickster god, often giving the illusion of beauty to those who drank too many beers around the longhouse. Kokanee's trickery brought together many unattractive couples together for mating, which fulfilled his other function as a fertility figure. One legend speaks of Kokanee flying to Earth in the form of an ugly raven. The villagers, appalled by the site of their god, consumed beer all night until the raven turned into an eagle, approximately two hours past midnight, when the traditional drinking longhouses were about to close.

Most of what we know about these deities of malt, barley, and hops is horribly incomplete. Inscriptions and drawings found in the ancient beer caves of Kenora, and from the Dried Bark Scrolls are almost illegible and, unless large quantities of beer are drunk, incomprehensible as well.

Canadians to this day are grateful for their gift from the gods of beer, and try to worship him at least three times a week, or more if the playoffs are on.