The Undocumented Mark Steyn Read Free Page A

music. And Sayyid Qutb was so disgusted by hearing “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” at a church dance in Greeley, Colorado, that he went back to Egypt and became the intellectual driving force behind the Muslim Brotherhood.
    Which is to say that even the smallest pleasures have to be earned, and defended. So ultimately, if you like “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” or even the Monkees, you need to pitch in on this clash-of-civilizations thing, too.

VIAGRA NATION
    Pfizer’s chemists at their research facility in Sandwich, England, originally synthesized sildenafil to help with angina. In clinical trials, it did little for patients’ chest pain, but along the way someone noticed that it caused a pronounced reaction somewhat lower down. On March 27, 1998, the FDA approved it as a treatment for erectile dysfunction, and in the weeks thereafter America talked of little else .
    The Wall Street Journal , May 12, 1998
    “ HI , I ’ M WALTER , your waiter, and today’s special is Linguine Viagra.”
    “Mmmm,” said my date appreciatively. “That’s what I call al dente .”
    I’m beginning to feel like the guy who was out of town the day the coup happened. You spend a quiet month ice fishing in Queen Maud Gulf and return to find the country changed beyond all recognition. Everywhere you turn, the Viagrafication of America proceeds apace. Even in the tiny portion of the news that isn’t devoted to Viagra, it seems implicitly present—the surging Dow, El Niño, the rush to megamergers. I quote from memory: “The First National Bank of Little Snake, Nevada, announced today that it is merging with New Mexico’s Banco Flaccido to form ViagraBank, the world’s biggest financial institution ever. In other news, Hurricane Viagra swept through a Florida trailer park, leaving 53 double-wides up-ended.”
    Forget Microsoft; Viagra now commands 98 percent of the metaphor market—and Congress isn’t doing a thing about it. Frank Luntz has polling data showing that 83 percent of soccer moms want Republicans to use more Viagra imagery (“education vouchers will be the Viagra of our nation’s SAT scores”). Al Gore’s minders are already working up self-deprecating Viagra jokes: “Okay, Mr. Vice President, all you have to say is, ‘Recently. I was. Proud.To take. Viagra.’ Then you simply stand there, completely stiff from head to toe, same as always, and just say in your usual monotone, ‘Whoops. Guess I. Took one. Too Many.’”
    As the only guy in the country not taking the tablets, I wasn’t sure I knew enough about the subject. So my pal Earl and I repaired to Starbucks after lunch, where I told him I was writing a column on Viagra.
    “ Grrrrrreattt!! ” he said, slapping my back somewhat over-heartily. “I write all my columns on Viagra. Guess you’ve finally figured it out, amigo: The milquetoast pantywaist Andy Williams Prozac era is over. I used to be like you, cranking out reasonable on-the-one-hand-on-the-other-hand wimpsville stuff for Harper’s . Now, thanks to the little blue diamonds, I’m a ferocious right-wing bastard with my own column in The American Spectator ! That’ll put the lead back in your pencil, buddy boy.” He glanced at the menu. “Hey, what’s the flavor of the day?”
    “Viagraccino,” said Kelli. “One cup and you’ll be up all night.”
    Earl is, of course, not his real name. His real name is Chuck. He just called to make sure I mention it. Chuck Malmquist, 57 Elm Street, Apartment B. Second left after the Citgo station. Chuck says it saves a whole lot of time if the chicks already know you’re on Viagra.
    Presumably that’s why every medical correspondent on every American magazine has no problem lining up on-the-record testimonials from “Tom Cannata, a 43-year-old accountant from Springfield, Mass” and “Ronald Marrocco, a 55-year-old diabetic from St. Petersburg, Fla,” both eager to disclose their prodigious intake to any passing reporter. My favorite to date—I mean