effervescent refractions

I’ll make this one quick as it isn’t worth much time. Starts off nicely with a muddy brick body and a lasting beige cream but the nose is a stupefying imbroglio. All I can cry is, “Where are the monks?” Not terribly offensive, but you could hardly find more modern and American. Almost barleywinesque the nose stresses syrupy hops, ripe banana, caramel, soap and honey. The flavor starts off with mildly unpleasant over-steeped white tea but the dégringolade continues from there. The intense bitterness is appalling, suggesting old socks, perfume and orange peel. I opt for a quick swallow, hoping to abort the looming disaster but encounter a final burst of acridity. The aftertaste is what I imagine sucking a on a nasty old teabag would be like. My notes concerning the mouthfeel actually read “Uggh…” Rogue is generally well regarded, which is perhaps why my words are harsher than my score, but this is a flippant brew indeed.