We beer geeks can be a bit too precious. We can forget that the joy of being in a bar is that you are in a place with other rules. Watching France v. Uruguay Friday in a neighbourhood pub, I was reminded of the din and the confusion, the sideshow of bar staff and the human churn that is a packed bar. I loved it but some scenes in other pubs elsewhere - well - go a little further, as Bryony Gordon wrote in today's Telegraph:

Behind Jason, some men are arguing pointlessly about who is wearing the most current England strip. They stop when the big screens come down. The place erupts at the sight of Adrian Chiles. Outside, the sky could be falling in and nobody in here would be any the wiser, or care for that matter. "Eng-er-land", they chant, thumping tables, blowing klaxons. "ENG-ER-LAND." It is actually quite emotional when the national anthem is played, despite the fact that half of the representatives of our country do not seem to want to sing it (perhaps they don’t know the words)... At what point does it all go so wrong? Perhaps when ITV choose to cut to a car advert just as Steven Gerrard scores his goal. Scores of pints are flung through the air – it seems such a terrible waste given that the place is packed like sardines and there is no way of getting to the bar for the next 40 or so minutes.

A waste? Arguing pointlessly? That is the entire point. Being wasteful and pointless at times is the key to healthy human existence and the pub is the finest example of it's meaningful exercise. Public knuckleheadedness. Without it, are we still as free?