All's Fair...

See, this is more like it. The Common Man drove around this morning, doing the things that The Common Man does, and gets his pants scared off by an NPR interview about Pakistan. According to Prof. Christine Fair, a senior political scientist at the RAND Corporation, in the U.S.'s post-9/11 mucking about, government officials have settled on Pakistan on the one best chance to fight off radicalism in the Muslim world. This policy is complicated by Pakistan's continuing attempts to support some extremists groups, but not others (an unsuccessful strategy Fair describes as "moderating extremism") and its gross corruption (in which high-value targets have been warned ahead of an impending attack by members of the Pakistani government and in which its new President, Asif Ali Zardari, has earned the nickname "Mr. Ten-Percent").

The danger lies in supporting a regime that has done and likely will do little to curb the threat posed by a resurgent Taliban and al Quaeda, and in putting all of the U.S.'s foreign diplomacy eggs into Pakistan's basket. By not engaging in diplomacy with Iran, who actually supported the U.N. effort to oust the Taliban, or any of Afghanistan's other neighbors, regarding the situation in Afghanistan, and in not engaging in an aid program designed to build up the citizenry in Pakistan, the U.S. has left itself vulnerable position with regard to its fight in Afghanistan. In order to resupply troops and bring in aid there, the U.S. is entirely reliant upon Pakistan, whose position is complicated and tenuous, and increased instability could make the war prohibitively expensive and dangerous to maintain, particularly as the U.S. takes public relations hits related to civilian casualties.

It's telling that it takes Fair an hour to truly delve into Pakistan, a nation of contrasts. They're an ally, but the sworn enemy of another great U.S. ally (India). They've commited resources and manpower to the fight against al Quaeda, but encourage terrorists in Kashmere who interact with the same terrorist groups they're fighting. They have a quasi-democracy, but the country's elites all seem to alienate the average citizenry and use their elected positions to entrench themselves and oppose democratic and anti-corruption reform. And it's not until the end that Fair gets to the truly disturbing notion that, frankly, no one knows enough about Pakistan to adequately explain where the Taliban and al Quaeda are getting the weapons they're using to terrorize the populace and fight the government.

Anyway, it's well worth listening to, as Fair is engaging and adept at making the intricacies of Pakistan understandable, and The Common Man is providing the link here. And in doing so, ask yourself whether fear and caution are manly traits. The Common Man doesn't mean abject, irrational fear, of course. But it seems to The Common Man that adequate fear leads to adequate caution and adequate preparation for risk. And isn't a huge part of being a responsible man (and a Boy Scout, The Common Man assumes, though he bounced out of Cub Scouts after a year of Webelos), being prepared? The Common Man wishes that America's foreign policy was being carried out by men and women with a proper level of fear about Pakistan, and would take precautions to make sure that, should something go wrong, the U.S. is not out of moves.

The Common Man plans to send this information to Connie and Fish and see if they (and their listeners) can help.

Fishing For Answers

Normally, when The Common Man is off and about in the morning, doing the things that he does, his radio dial stays in the NPR range, with some sports-talk thrown in to keep him honest. After all, The Common Man is at an age where it's probably not appropriate to be headbanging to "Welcome to the Jungle" while trying to steer an automobile away from other cars and pedestrians. Since your reaction time cuts down as you get older, that's just good sense.

But this morning, The Common Man needed to take The Uncommon Wife in to work, since their other car has decided to need break fluid. So, this morning, The Common Man listened to Bonnie and the Beaver on his way in and became embroiled in the following problem. A man wrote to the Beaver asking for advice (for who has better wisdom and knowledge to impart than an AM DJ?) about his girlfriend. The man, say his name is Bob, is 33 and has recently moved in with his 41 year old girlfriend. They both have kids of comparable ages, share common interests, never "EVER" fight, and presumably share a blissful existence. Except, however, that Bob wants to have another child (and from the sound of it, wants to have it yesterday), while his beloved "can't" have any kids. And he wonders; as he comes to a man who calls himself "Fish" in public, and to those who would religiously listen to the Beaver Monday-Friday, 5:30-10:00 AM, what should he do about this?

The Common Man's advice is simple: First, DO NOT WRITE TO A MORNING DISC JOCKEY AND HIS AUDIENCE FOR ADVICE!!! After all, if your beloved is as sympatico as the man seems to indicate, chances are she's listening and thinking, "Hey, I'm 41. And Bob's 33. And we both have kids. And he wants to have more and I 'can't.' Dammit, Bob, you dumbass!" Plus, her friends and his friends are listening and putting two and two together, particularly since Bob seems like the kind of guy who can't go 15 minutes without telling you something awkward and revealing about himself (he is, after all, discussing he and his girlfriends reproductive options (and her apparent shortcomings) with thousands of listeners in Southern Wisconsin).

So, yeah, shut up Bob. The kinds of answers that you and millions of other Americans seek to aleve you of the burden of making decisions are not simple. They are context specific, different for each and every person depending on where and how they find themselves in life. It's one thing to seek advice from a close friend with whom you can talk out pros and cons and who can help you to make your decision, but to rely on the 60 second advice of a man named Beaver, his chain-smoking, bar-hopping, is 40 but dresses 20 and sounds 55 sidekick, and their shallow debate about whether you're "selfish" or if this is a "deal-breaker" is ludicrous, not to mention the waffling of their loyal, chipper followers ("On the one hand I think he's selfish and he don't deserve her, but on the other hand, I can definitely understand the desire to have more kids and think he may need to get a surrogate. I don't know what I'd do. Why did I call again?").

Cameron Schaefer, at Schaefer's Blog, talked the other day about Americans needing to take responsibility for their actions, and The Common Man thinks that part of that is to take responsibility for the decision making process. So many people seem to look to Oprah or Dr. Phil or Tyra or the Beaver for how to behave, how to act, and what to do. They turn to that angry guy on CNBC to find out where they should invest or to that angry guy on FoxNews to figure out who they should be angry at. Why? Why is there such a desire to seek the advice of others and not use the good sense God gave?

Manliness demands that you take responsibility for your life at all stages, not just the end product. That takes work. Work that no one else can do for you. All the advice Dr. Phil or the Beaver can give you isn't worth an ounce of that little voice in your head, Bob, telling you what the right thing to do is.

Saturday Beer Review: Moose Drool Brown Ale

He knows, you've all been waiting with baited breath to see if The Common Man will show today. Well, here he is, boys and girls, in all his glory. Behold and admire him. He's sequestered in his mancave, watching the manliest of sports, pro football, and enjoying many a fine carbonated malt beverage. The world is a strange place: Brett Favre is wearing a different shade of green (since he's a Jet), former LaDanian Tomlinson caddy Michael Turner has 196 yards on the ground for the Falcons (in related news, once again the Lions suck), and the lowly Kanses City Chiefs are keeping it close in New England.

And since this is a topsy-turvy, bizzarro world, The Common Man felt it was appropriate to crack open a Moose Drool Brown Ale in honor of the GOP's vice-presidential nominee, Gov. Sarah Palin.
Palin, of course, has burst onto the political scene in the last week and a half. She has transformed public consciousness, making phrases like "hockey moms," "moose hunting," and "Alaska" part of the national discussion. Indeed, Palin's ability to rally her base and to label herself at once a loving mother (and soon-to-be grandma) and a pitbull has been particularly impressive.

Like Sarah Palin, Moose Drool comes from the northwest part of the country. Brewed in Missoula, Montana by Big Sky Brewing Co., Moose Drool understand the world from which Palin comes, with its harsh winters, its imposing terrain, and its "hockey." Of course, Moose Drool's origins lie further south and east than Palin has tended to roam, but still comes across as a manly, big brew for men who need a lot of flavor in their beer. Indeed, Moose Drool is nothing like the Yard Beer that Kevin, at Return to Manliness, wrote about a month back.

Anyway, like Palin herself, Mosse Drool presents several contrasts. It's name would imply that it's disgusting, yet the label, a serene painting of a moose swimming in a mountain pond, suggests a cleaner, fresher beer than you're used to. And, like Palin herself, it combines that sweetness with a killer hoppiness that is very bitter. It's the first beer The Common Man has profiled here that's almost better warm, or at least cool. The chill tends to accentuate the beers hoppiness while killing some of the chocolate and carmel flavors that sweetens the aftertaste.

This is a sipping beer, best to have before a good meal, as it will dominate the food you're trying to enjoy. And it's a good beer to drink with a sole friend at dusk. The Common Man, for instance, was introduced to Moose Drool by his good friend, Alto, who is essentially like Arnold Schwarzenegger to The Common Man's Danny DeVito. As they sat at The Common Man's cabin, on the deck overlooking the lake, thinking about the work they had done and the times they had seen together, they both knew that life was good. And that the beer was too.

So, in honor of Sarah Palin, go get yourself a sixer of Moose Drool and enjoy the rest of your weekend. You've worked hard to get to where you are. Or, maybe you're a cynical appeal to two demographics who you think you need to energize in order to win an election. Either way, you deserve it.

Also in honor of Governor Palin, The Common Man presents another installment of Stupid Man Tricks:



That seems to be a poor strategy for hunting moose, being 10 feet away and shooting one in the neck. Also, The Common Man loves how his buddy tries to call the moose back after it a) has just been shot and b) almost killed his companion. That is the definition of friendship, right there, trying to get your pal trampled a second time.

Yielding the Floor

No post tonight, dear friends. The Common Man's rock-iron gut is still not in drinking shape. He'll be back tomorrow with Stupid Man Tricks and a beer review.

D*#k Flicks: The Condemned

Wow. The Common Man cannot adequately describe what escaped from The Boy last night while in his crib. Something so disgusting and terrible that it required an immediate bath, the stripping of the bed, and the scrubbing of his mattress. Then, it necessitated an evening of snuggling between his mortified mother and father. The Common Man has never seen anything so horrible. Except, of course, when he was stuck on the couch on Tuesday, "enjoying" the latest D*#k Flick to come to his attention, The Condemned, starring Steve Austin.

Austin, of course, is best known as Stone Cold Steve Austin, the superstar and chief anti-hero of the WWE. The film represents Austin's first (and, gratefully, thusfar his only) attempt to be a leading man, after a decade and a half of guzzling beer, rolling around with half-naked dudes, and flipping the bird in the middle of a misnomered square in front of millions of people. It was also an attempt for WWE Films, the (The Common Man kids you not) movie-making arm of the country's pre-eminent wrestling outfit, to lower the standards for B-movies everywhere (leading to unbelievable grade inflation. On the new scale, if The Condemned is a B-movie, Gigli gets an A++.) and to promote one of its icons.

Now, the plot has actual promise as a sleazy b-movie. Ten convicts (men and women) from around the globe, all awaiting the death penalty, are ferried to an island in the middle of somewhere, where they will fight to the death until only one of them remains, all for the pleasure of an international online audience. There's a black guy and a Japanese guy and a Latino married couple, and a South African mercenary, and some other characters that, frankly, The Common Man was not too disappointed to forget. Most are entirely indistinguishable from one another, aside from skin color. Anyway, one of these convicts is a wrongly accused and convicted American ex-special forces guy who was rotting in a Guatemalan jail (Guess which character Steve Austin plays!).

Anyway, things begin going awry quickly when the show's production team begins to revolt against the executive producer. When, surprise surprise, the female contestants start getting cruelly raped and killed by their fellow players, the men and women in the control booth start getting a little squeamish. Of course, the producer wants to hear none of this. His viral snuff film is supposed to make him billions, after all. And so around and around they go, debating morality and ethics and wringing their hands that people will be entertained by realistic violence.

Note: It's important to remember, at this point, that the movie was produced by the WWE, a consistent source of violent entertainment several nights a week, and that, as the controllers are still debating, the film undercuts its own moral message by continuing to revel in the torture and killing of its actors.

The larger film tries to come off as the ultimate macho grudge match, with a kitchy plot and a lot of action. But frankly, the action doesn't deliver as promised. For a professional "athlete," Austin seems incapable of doing stunts that last longer than a few frames of film at a time. As though he's simply not gifted at using his body as anything other than a giant tank. So his fight scenes are all shot using very shaky handicams that do not capture one entire person, let alone an entire fight. And because of all this, with all the shaking and cuts involved, the film gives the distinct impression that Steve Austin can't fight worth a damn.

Also, because of the sketchy camera work, it's hard to figure out what's going on. When Austin fights another white guy, you're out of luck until the end. If you haven't guessed the end of the movie already, it's impossible to tell who wins until one guy is standing, bloodily triumphant, over his fallen foe. It's impossible to build any kind of suspense or momentum. And, perhaps most importantly, it gives The Common Man a damn headache, and perhaps a seizure (there's about 3 minutes of the movie that The Common Man is "missing"). The Common Man wonders how impressive this concept could have been with someone like an in-his-prime Chuck Norris in it. As it is, it just sucks to watch.

So, despite its manly undertones, and its copious explosions and prevelent violence, The Common Man has to give this "film" just half a ball. It gives him no pleasure to do so (much like the movie itself), but it clearly has earned it. The horrible, unintelligible, seizure-inducing action sequences would be reason enough without all the whining and hypocrisy about being entertained by violence. But since the hypocrisy is there, The Common Man feels compelled to mention that too. And all of that is not taking into account that the movie stars a man who pleaded no contest to beating his third wife.

What You Should Have Been Watching: Veronica Mars

As he previously mentioned, The Common Man spent a great deal of time this week, snuggled up with The Uncommon Wife in their bedroom, watching DVDs. It has been a delightful respite from feeling like crap, not just because The Common Man loves him some wife and values their time together, but because they are entirely wrapped up in the second season of the subject of the second edition of What You Should Have Been Watching: Veronica Mars.

Veronica Mars picked up the torch of the teenage heroine when it was discarded by Buffy Summers in 2004. Gushed over by fanboys and by critics, it should have been a hit, pairing a hot and versatile young star (Kristin Bell) with a terrific concept (90210 meets Nancy Drew). With an impressive stable of supporting talent (Enrico Colantoni and Jason Dohring in particular) and a
supportive network that gave the show three years to find an audience, you'd assume that VM was perfectly placed to find success. Sadly, that network was UPN, a third-rate joke whose best performing product was Friday Night Smackdown (The Common Man hesitates to italicize that title. Does that even count as a show or is it some vaudeville freakery gone even more freaky?), which did not exactly appeal to Veronica's demo. The network bumped it around into various timeslots and local affiliates preempted it for local sports, meaning that building a consistent audience was incredibly difficult, particularly for a serialized show.

That said, maybe it's best that Veronica Mars never made it onto one of the four main networks. Largely left to himself, series creator Rob Thomas was able to create an impressive universe for his characters and could touch on social commentary as well as revel in his star's sexybombshellness. And he was able to develop long, season-length story archs, patiently giving away clues, and teasing audiences along to a final payoff.

The series revolves around Bell's Veronica, the daughter of the local sheriff in Neptune, CA (a smallish city in So-Cal with huge disparities between rich and poor). When her best friend is murdered, Veronica's life collapses around her. Her father accuses Veronica's boyfriend's father of the crime, her boyfriend dumps her, she becomes a social pariah, her father is ousted in a recall election, her mother (already an alcoholic) leaves home, and the remaining Mars' are forced to move to a two-bedroom apartment. Veronica's father becomes a local private investigator and she his assistant. In her spare time, she investigates her friend's murder and helps classmates who fall into some kind of trouble or other, using her Batman-esque detectiving skills.

The series rode high on the strength Bell's performance. Her role as the class private eye forced her to invent several different versions of the character who could cajole, intimidate, and hustle other characters for information. And her status as an outsider inspired her every word to drip with sarcasm. She was, to be fair, given terrific, updated-Raymond Chandler-like dialogue to work with, but her delivery was consistently on point. Also, her hair was hot and bounced on her head like it was spring-loaded.

So, why is this show here? Sure, you're thinking, it sounds awesome and you probably should have been watching it. But what, besides the eye-candy is there to interest men. To instruct men. To be a boon to mankind. Ladies and gentlemen, Keith Mars, Veronica's father, as played by Enrico Colantoni, is the embodiment of responsible fatherhood. Abandoned by his wife and his community for pursuing his convictions and a suspect, Keith has every reason to start his life over in another town, or to be bitter and take out his frustrations on his daughter. But he doesn't. Instead, he stays in Neptune, and endures the scorn and ridicule of his neighbors. He embodies responsible fatherhood, sacrificing so that his daughter can be as well-adjusted as possible in their home. Love, money, pride. None of it matters as much as the safety and happiness of his little girl. Add to that his moral strength and physical toughness, and you have one hell of a man. Again and again, Keith Mars is held up as the pinnacle of manhood, and he is never found wanting. He is an example for fathers everywhere to follow, understanding that something as simple as a smile or a hug from one's child is a far greater reward than anything tangible.

Also, The Uncommon Wife has noted on several occasions that she would do incredible things to him, and once purred. So, um, ladies...he's apparently got that sexy dad thing going for him.

Anyway, if you liked Buffy the Vampire Slayer (and don't say you didn't, you'll just make The Common Man shed manly, manly tears), you'll love Veronica Mars. Though it plays down the action, adventure, and danger, it heightens the mystery, suspense, and wittiness of Joss Whedon's masterpiece. And when the show does get dangerous, it's incredibly intense. So go, enjoy all three seasons that Veronica Mars has to offer. And, now that the fall TV season is upon you, start watching good television, for God's sake, so they won't keep airing Who Wants To Break Up Their Family For a Million Dollars?

Beaconing Hope

Oh man, something has been tearing through The Common Family this week. Fevers have spiked. Coughs have lingered. Fluids have projected. It has not been fun. And so, The Common Man spent a great deal of time nursing The Boy back to health, resting on the couch watching bad movies, and cuddling with The Uncommon Wife (yes, men cuddle) while watching DVDs in bed. While great for family bonding, it has been detrimental to actual productivity, so The Common Man will do his best to make up for lost time. Fortunately, he has lots to talk about.

For instance, in the face of The Common Man's recent shivering spell on the sofa, he's grown more and more impressed with the performance of the Milwaukee Brewers' ace, CC Sabathia. Sabathia, famously acquired by the Brewers in a midseason deal, has been unstoppable thusfar in a Milwaukee uniform. In just 11 starts, he has gone 9-0 with a 1.43 ERA. He's completed more than half his starts and has three shutouts in the process, and has struck out almost a batter an inning while allowing just one runner per inning. In his previous start, he threw a one-hitter against the Pittsburgh Pirates, striking out 11.



Yet, Sabathia's not just notable for his excellence. Indeed, his toughness and durability have caused controversy in recent weeks. Since joining the Brewers, Sabathia has been worked hard by manager Ned Yost, averaging 111.6 pitches per start including a 130 pitch complete game when his team was up by six runs. While this is an indefensible strategy for his manager (especially if Sabathia appears worn down in the postseason), it's a remarkable accomplishment for Sabathia. For the year, he is leading the majors in pitches/start, when the league median is close to 93. That means that, on average, Sabathia is giving his team a full inning more of (an incredibly high level of) production than the typical major league starter.

And this is a risky strategy, both for the Brewers and for Sabathia. Current research indicates, according to a 2004 article by Baseball Prospectus's Rany Jazayerli, "1. While pitching is an inherently unnatural motion, throwing a pitch does not necessarily do permanent damage to a pitcher's arm. It's only when fatigue sets in (and a pitcher's mechanics start to waver) that continued pitching can result in irreversible injury. 2. There is a certain number of pitches that a pitcher can throw before that fatigue sets in. 3. Once a pitcher is fatigued, each additional pitch causes more damage, and results in more additional fatigue, than the pitch before." And so, as Sabathia racks up start after start of high pitch counts, his likelihood of suffering a season ending, or even a catastrophic, arm injury exponentially increases.

There is rampant speculation that the Brewers, realizing that they are unlikely to sign Sabathia after the season (he'll be a free agent) have decided to ignore this risk for this year and run him into the ground. Yost has contradicted this assertion, saying, "I respect him as a player. I respect him as a person. He's got a family. I know how this business works. He has to provide for his family. I would never do anything that would take away from that ability. I just couldn't live with myself." Regardless of whether they are knowingly putting Sabathia's health in jeopardy, the Brewers' strategy seems unwise both for the rest of this season and for their pitcher's future.

For his part, however, Sabathia has acted like a shining beacon of manhood; he has taken the abuse his manager has dished out with no complaint, indeed with eagerness to take the ball and dominate his opposition. With the looming prospect of making $100 million, The Common Man could understand if Sabathia wanted to baby his golden left arm, ensuring his family's prosperity for generations to come. But his continued enthusiasm for taking the ball in the face of risk and his continued excellence singles him out as The Common Man's Weekly Beacon of Manhood (a new feature here). You can bet that CC Sabathia wouldn't lay on the couch and watch The Condemned if he had a game to pitch. Shame on The Common Man.