It was over an off-ramp in Jersey. But you could see it from Admiral Wilson Blvd, heading to the Ben Franklin Bridge. "Paxil Welcomes You to Philadelphia." A big advertisement that wasn't much of an advertisement as it was a soothing pale-gray and pinkish emblem of modern culture. It was more like "Repent, God is Watching You." And every time I crossed the bridge, I couldn't help but wonder if there was a coincidence between Philly being the birthplace of this mega-antidepressant glamour drug and the fact that we rank as fifth largest city in the United States, second on the East Coast. 
 Big city, yeah, but with a mysteriously declining population.  I put 2 and 2 together.
 No one else, besides the Delaware River Port Authority, has ever welcomed my crossing to Philly, so it didn't take long to figure things out. And as my mind has a tendency to come to drastic conclusions, without much consideration for proper perspective, I knew then, as I braved entry into the city of maladjusted millions, that Paxil was more than just a prescription. Very possibly, it was the Second Coming. In pill form, of course. 
 OK, so maybe that's a big, blasphemous exaggeration.  But certain things just don't add up. The product itself corrects the chemical imbalance in the human brain. That's a problem right there. Our frivolous desire to seek inner balance is all it takes to seduce a modern American vendor into becoming the next Jim Jones or David Koresh. Whatever the case may be, the side effects seem to be more debilitating than the depression itself: diarrhea, for example, that Elysium of human cleansing-until, of course, the fourth day. 
 Then there's dizziness, insomnia, tremors and nervousness. Not exactly a good stew of symptoms to live with. 
 But the most troubling side effect of this drug by far, and the most suspicious, is loss of sexual desire. 
 I find it mysteriously odd that one of the drug's foremost side effects is that which takes away our human desire to procreate-- adversely affecting sexual response. And it's not just Paxil. It's antidepressants like Zoloft and Prozac and a slew of other pharmaceuticals like sedatives, birth control pills, anti-cancer drugs, neuroleptics and anti-ulcer drugs.  
 Considering the increased number of individuals dependent on these meds,  it's hard not to think that there just may be a conspiracy by drug companies to control the population. Think about it-millions of balanced individuals chanting methodically, "not tonight, honey." 
 Not in the mood for such a crazy idea? OK. I'll grant you that my suspicions are not well founded. But drugs like Paxil, which promote chemical balance and inner calm, just might have a hidden agenda. Seizing the population explosion may be far fetched, but then again, so is the idea that you don't want to have sex when you're happy.     Fortunately, the next time you cross the bridge, you will no longer be reminded of the potential force behind Paxil's presence. The sign has since  been replaced by "Vincent Giordano's Roast Beef."  They say red meat increases blood flow to the brain and thus, I assume, increases sexual desire. I think the message is clear-at least on the part of Paxil: Eat more chicken.