There was an extensive article about Scotch whiskey in the New Yorker magazine recently. I gather that all is not as it seems with origins, advertising, contents, etc. I have recently been in conversations with vociferous "connoisseurs" who knew not of which they spoke. Of course this seems to be the case with most connoisseurs of almost anything.
Odd story: My father died when I was three years old, in 1946. When my mother died several years ago I found among her effects a full, unopened bottle of scotch (Johnny Walker Red.) From my earliest memory of my mother to her dying day at age 90, she was tee-total. It had a Georgia tax stamp and an apparently intact closure from the war time or just after. It had been sealed with a tin cap with a twisted wire lever, like used to be used on root beer. I know that whiskey doesn't age or improve in the bottle, but it's an interesting artifact.
I haven't drunk scotch since September 4, 1969 (!) due to a terrible accident with a bottle that had my family name across the front. Filthy stuff that. A nice Canadian of the age of majority is a treat though.