1 the Alchemist Cabinet Vol. 1

1 The Alchemist Cabinet Vol. 1: Philosophy By: Alan Reed Bishop Alchemistcabinet.wordpress.com James Alfred Bishop woke early one summer morning in the early 1930’s, heading down to the patch of wild berries he had located; ever a consummate fan of the old fashioned homemade cobbler, he wanted to beat anyone else with an eye on those berries at the peak of ripeness to the punch. Some ways behind him followed two of his sons, Alfred Reed Bishop and Coy Dell Bishop. It was early, still dark out, and the elder Bishop was ahead by quite a way following the path that treads through the forest near Greensburg Kentucky. Shortly the two boys came across James Alfred at the side of the trail; pale, shocked, perhaps even disbelieving his own instincts. They asked him why he moved off the trail and what had happened to put the scare into him. James Alfred replied simply: “You didn’t see him?”, “See who?”, the obvious retort. “The devil just crossed my path on this trail, I knew who he was, and I could see the evil in his eyes.” He repeated this story to the rest of the family later, his best guess is that the old demon was on his way down to the Moonshine still in the woods, as always up to no good and looking for someone new to sign his earthly contract, someone to tread his own Hells Half Acre……. Know a guy that knows a guy?! I sold my first jar of liquor in a church. Many a tome have been published in the two millennia since distillation became common knowledge all of which with a focus on discussing the virtues and methodology of both agricultural pursuit and its purification in the form of distillation. Here in our own words we hope to bring together both the agricultural and industrial distillation observations of one (in this volume) and many (in coming years) distillers, millers, farmers, and nursery men along with the philosophies that guide them both scientific and spiritual. Obviously, this treatise will not be suited to the man of purely 2 scientific/secular pursuit, but for him more than enough has already been published. This volume I dedicate to those who search for deeper meaning in their earthly pursuits of which distillation must rank amongst one of the highest pillars of those who seek the philosopher’s stone. Indeed, this book is dedicated to the folk distiller, moonshiner, philosopher, and the observant one who sees through the marketing bullshit and outright lies of a commercial world and can identify the “Sacred Profane” that “industrial liquor” and egotistical carpetbaggers have built their foundation upon. Indeed, this one is dedicated to those rightly Initiated in the art of “discovery” and “ordered action”. Distillation and agrarian life are one and the same and can in no way be separated from one another. To be a fantastic agrarian is not enough for the truly adventurous, we must instead seek to purify all that we do on this earth, to start from seed and end with seed but to also break down the annual bounty into its individual counterparts, the building blocks that made a season and a growing region what it truly was, to expose terroir, both in fruit but also increasingly in grain and botanical form. To take from the soil and put in the glass, to enliven the soul on a cold January eve exactly what a warm July day might taste, smell, and feel like, out of place, out of season, a true representation of time, place, geography and passion. We seek to present practical distillers with a material guide that they may use and refer to over the coming years. A guide that charts history, methodology, mistakes, and lessons learned by which they may compare their efforts or begin to learn the art. We seek the due diligence and contributions of readers in coming years are it in the form of stories about local distillation/moonshining and its history in our Southern Indiana locale or actual practical experience in the art. We seek to bring a bit of distillation history to the forefront without being burdensome, to demonstrate distillation as a survival tool, and also to promote the history of the art in our southern Indiana region and add to the skills and trade of the local populace in tumultuous times when we may need more local craftsmen. Passion is the true fire given to man by Prometheus; there is always a spark that starts the blaze, that moment for me came on a cold January night, standing at the crossroads of Vincennes trail and Becks Mill, listening to the music emanating from the building (Greenville Trestle this particularly 3 cold and somewhat snowy night). I had spent nearly 10 years pursuing the profession of my ancestors for untold generations prior; that of the Yeomen farmer. My attempts to turn the soil in to cash flow with little more than will power was never going to work and never would. Despite the hours and physical labor invested my attempt at farming and plant breeding, creating a paradise in my little village of Pekin Indiana was never, ever going to amount to any reimbursement or practicality in the modern world unless I was to break a law or two and teach myself a trade practiced by my ancestors; father, grandfather, great grandfather ext. Something primal and yet sublime that stirred some deep liberty loving, rebellion seeking feeling in my gut, something highly illegal. It was either cultivate the seed of an illegal plant or bend up some copper tubing and put the corn I had bred over the previous years to work. By this point I had already been fermenting five-gallon buckets of wine made from wild fruits and the many rare cultivars of berries I had collected on the third-generation farm over the previous years I had also for some time been exposed to the habits and methodology of those more inclined than I to turn what God provided via the soil, sun, and seed to alchemical magic. The seed was planted and the basic information easy enough to digest, it was the details of the procedure that I needed to further study. I began reading, talking, and searching for any and every detail I could find. I read for months, book after book, and article after article. I searched local historical archives, I talked with folks I knew who once dabbled in illegal alchemy and eventually I got brave and started gathering building materials and turned to my father for his assistance. Pandora’s Box was opened wide……. I started with a cobbled together 10 gallons still made of a stainless coffee dispenser from Ft. Knox with a ½ inch pot still head I soldered together from copper line, a one-gallon stainless cooking pot for a thump barrel, and 22 foot of annealed copper line that I packed with sand and wrapped around an old stone crock to form my worm. If it sounds a bit Sanford and Son, it’s because it was. Once the whole device was “Luted” (sealed with various combinations of flour, grain, and bran) it often gave the appearance of a failed attempt at cake baking. As Luddite as it was, it just so happened to work. I started where all amateurs should start; with more ambition than knowledge. One can read for a lifetime and never understand a subject 4 until they put their hands to the practical art. Even now, years later, I will never admit to being an “expert” on distillation and I still hate the term “master distiller” For those thinking of perusing the art at home, a word of advice; Get in, get good, get out, and get legal, either working for yourself or someone else in the industry. Your other alternative? Stay quiet about what you do forever or learn to love jail. I know it seems like a tongue in cheek “joke” to poke fun at the illicit nature of moonshine but I will guarantee you it is a lot harder to laugh from behind bars. This book will present to you a bit of a look at the local history in my county that inspired me as well as technical details, spirituality, and recipes. This book has been written from the perspective that the reader will already have some amount of familiarity with the concepts presented about distillation, there are plenty of books out there written for the novice and those new to the art are better to start there. I should warn as well that this book may speak of illicit activities, none of which do we want to encourage and nor does the author of this book admit to administering or participating in such activities. Where such an activity takes place in this book it should be notated that it is for the sake of the story, fantastical and theoretical and not something actually practiced as such by the author, his friends, family, or business associates. This book is dedicated to those who will soon light their first stills and to those who have lit their last already, may the art never die! “What is a Carpetbagger? Someone with all the money and none of the talent!” Alan Bishop Death and Taxes………. but first Liberty! I’ve never been one to think I had to have some sort of special permission to live and pursue my happiness. Nor that I should have to ask some ward of the state to give me permission to do as I see fit so long as it doesn’t hurt someone or infringe upon their rights or liberty.

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