Whisky Magazine Issue 135
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Where has all the whisky gone?
Picture the scene: The crack of dawn on a chilly day in April. You wake up as normal, but something is strangely different. No familiar sounds outside. No one around, litter and detritus strewn down the pavement. Your neighbour's front doors have all been left wide open, as if they rushed out in a desperate hurry.
Then you hear it. The blood-curdling realisation that you thought would never occur in your lifetime – or indeed, your grandchildren's lifetime. From the TV, which has been left on in your neighbour's front room comes the voice of a well-spoken gentleman. It sounds familiar, but slightly shaken, cracking with emotion as the words pour out. You peer through your neighbour's window and recoil in horror at the sight in front of you.
The man on the TV is Charles MacLean. He is holding a one-man vigil at the side of a grave, somewhere in Scotland. The headstone simply reads:
‘Whisky RIP. 1494-2016'
As you listen in, what becomes chillingly apparent is that due to over demand, increased popularity and worst of all, overzealous collecting, Scotch whisky has ceased to be.
Producers became so overstretched trying to meet supply, that eventually, like overworked farm animals, they finally keeled over, exhausted, gasping their final breath. Distillery groups crumbled. Looting and riots broke out: first outside the distillery shops, then The Whisky Exchange in London and then finally anywhere that had a few drops of aged liquid left on the premises. Angry m...