Its been mocked, and perverted. Its been long overdue, and driven "underground". Its even been implemented, albeit in a silly kind of way.

Recent events heralded it in and it's finally here. The Return of the Man.

There they were, representing one of the last bastions of manhood; East Coast, hard-working, mostly blue collar, public service workin' American men. They'd be condemned, mocked, hated, and occasionally full of self-pity in the last half century. Suddenly, they were on TV and it wasn't The Man Show. They knew their job, and they and the women working with them did it with a typical lack of pretentiousness and drama. They were unstylishly coiffed, balding, hairy, overweight, sweaty, and mustached. They were effete lawyers, latte-swilling stockbrokers, swarthy firefighters, and stone-faced cops. They risked their lives and sometimes lost them. I watched them weep unashamedly into the camera, and was strangled by guilt and a desperate urge to be working alongside with them.

There's a smell in the air, and it's not Drakkar. After all, many of us have remembered what it is we do best in society; risk our lives for principal. Our days of wishy-washiness and passive aggression are dead and buried in an unmarked grave behind Giuliani's mansion. Right next to Male Guilt. We're channeling Carey, not Hugh. Our idol is the 50s man; Truman, hold the McCarthy.

We're not barbarians or throwbacks; we've learned a lot of lessons the hard way in the last 50 years and we're not about to forget. What we seem in the faces of the men on TV in the last two weeks harkens back a ways in history, to the last time the nation faced a crisis of similar proportions. Some of us, and not a small minority, thinks it's time to be a little less Post and a good deal more Neo.

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