One of my favorite phrases is “metric assload.” Because it implies that there is an Imperial assload, defined by the volume capacity of a particular monarch’s ass, then standardized at a later date in order that it be directly convertible to fluid ounces, gallons, and hogsheads.
Indeed, I’m a little surprised there aren’t more old timeny weight and measure units being thrown around in modernity. Of course, metric makes sense for consistency and whatnot. And should be adopted by all peoples as a standard. But there’s something quaint and culturally rich and downright adorable about ancient units like furlongs, firkins, and foot-candles. And those units should be preserved as marketing materials for posterity. As in, “you can purchase one Imperial barrel per month of organic India Pale Ale for only X lira per month.” So much more satisfying–at least when lives don’t depend upon it–than forcing the quantities into liters and euros. No?