It’s Molotov Cocktail Season, Y’all

Gasoline is an acquired taste

Howdy, howdy. Hang onto your balaclavas, folks. During a rambunctious public get-together with fellow travelers, the last thing you want to do is arrive empty handed. It’s rude, if nothing else. So be a guest that impresses. Because few true believers will react positively to plated crudites or premade canned spritzes. But Molotov Cocktails have an enduring appeal that almost makes you want to remove your mask and take a breath of toxic air.

Warm weather is synonymous with dining al fresco, wearing open-toed shoes and tossing flaming bottles of indeterminate liquid through the windshields of parked cars. It goes a long way to announcing your presence in an already crowded field. Say you’re planning on grilling, that’s great. Why not use the open conflagration of a vehicle to get the fire started? The taste of gasoline is one not every activist seeks to acquire. Both those who do are quickly rewarded with a massive explosion. This is why fireworks aren’t necessary during a party such as this.

The problem with Molotov Cocktails is that there is no standard recipe for them. Luckily, there are motivated mixologists doing their best to change the perception. These incendiary individuals emphasize the quality of ingredients. Too many overly excited folks have relied on the cheapest liquor they could get their hands on and any old rag laying around the house. Molotov Cocktails are, beyond statements and symbols, cocktails. So they should be treated as such.

You shouldn’t have to go onto the dark web to avoid law enforcement’s online dragnet to buy one either. You shouldn’t have to communicate with a shadowy figure of questionable loyalties. You shouldn’t have to make one either. You should be able to go to any liquor store and buy one, any bar and order one. Molotov Cocktails should come out of the shadows and onto the menus.