According to Rick Santorum's official campaign website, America is suffering a "pandemic of harm" from the distribution of pornography. This is the first I've heard that pornography, which I've always thought to be a class of sexually-explicit expression, is actually an infectious disease transmitted from human to human, but given how expert Santorum is on all matters scientific, I'm going to at least give his position some thought before dismissing it as mere political theater designed to draw more support to his campaign from American social conservatives.
In the meantime, there's another pernicious threat to this nation that I think warrants Santorum's attention: the hitherto unchecked proliferation of food-related propaganda currently flooding our nation's televisions, computers and bookshelves.
Yes, it's true: The cook books, cooking shows and cooking websites published by the corporate fat cats of "Big Cuisine" fill people's heads with all sorts of false ideas, unrealistic expectations, and dangerous notions.
It all starts out innocently enough; you just want to find a good recipe for something simple, like an omelet -- but, before you know it, you're neck-deep in hot, uncensored frittata pictures, or lust-inspiring lumps of loco moco. Soon, the food your spouse makes just isn't good enough anymore; it's plain, unexciting sustenance, devoid of panache (not to mention pancetta).
There's a progressive nature to Food Porn Addiction that makes it all the more insidious. Few stop their explorations after dipping their toes in the shallow waters of Cooking Light; once exposed to the siren call of their Inner Epicurean, most addicts slide further into the abyss, right past Martha Stewart's Living and into the debilitating, marriage-decaying depths of A Day at el Bulli.
Take a closer look at the meticulously touched-up and painstakingly crafted images of the food offered up by the nefarious puppeteers behind Big Cuisine; did you know that the image you're looking at often isn't even real food? How is any person supposed to feel good about the look of their homemade lasagna when the "pros" are using performance-enhancing substances to achieve perfect uniformity of their gratin?
Lest you think the threat of Big Cuisine ends with undermining marriage, guess again! For those who seek to mimic the culinary creations of their favorite celebrity chefs, the consequences can be dire -- or even deadly.
Consider this: When was the last time you saw Rachel Ray actually rinse off any food, or wash her hands, while preparing one of those so-called "30 Minute Meals" she is so famous for? In order to sell the uninitiated on the idea that they too can whip up chicken scarpariello in half an hour, Ray will risk contaminating every surface in her vicinity with salmonella by handling raw chicken as casually as if it were her smartphone. (Side note -- never try to cook a smartphone in the microwave; it comes out extremely dry and tough.)
It's all such an outrage that I think the ultimate source of this gastronomical assault on American victuals/values must be an influence that, among the current candidates for president, Rick Santorum is uniquely well-qualified to confront. I'm speaking, of course, of Satan.
Let's look at the evidence; who was the first individual to present a human being with a dish that they knew for a fact would be very bad for that person? Well, what do you know -- it was none other than Satan, in snake form, passing out a certain tainted bit of fruit to a lady named Eve. And what was the source of that accursed apple's contamination? Why, knowledge, of course! And what is it that these celebrity chefs purport to impart to innocent, hungry Americans through their shows, books and blogs? You got it -- knowledge.
If that isn't proof enough for you, ask yourself this question: Have you ever seen Tom Colicchio and the Prince of Darkness in the same room at the same time? Me neither! Can you say "case closed," boys and girls?
I don't want to overstate the seriousness of this situation, but I think it no exaggeration to label the sinister chefs, rapacious restaurateurs and growing cabal of celebrity food-pushers working on behalf of Big Cuisine the single greatest threat to the American family since the invention of the condom.
I think we can all agree that Americans need protection, and not just the kind that the Marines or CIA can offer. Often what we need most is to be protected from other Americans, be they pornographers, Hollywood producers, organic farmers, community organizers, radio show hosts, or Guy Fieri.
Yes, America needs you, Rick Santorum, but we also need you to expand the horizons of your crusade for decency beyond the bedroom, beyond the den where we keep our porn-laded computers and into the kitchen, where real threats to liberty lurk: Beneath a licentious layer of Sauce Veloute.