http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dancing_Plague_of_1518 The only cure to excesive dancing is more dancing.
Last year I was a chaperone at a highschool homecoming dance. It was really a sight to behold, hundreds of teenagers bumping and grinding on eachother for 3 hours straight. When did it become acceptable for kids to dryhump eachother at a school-sanctioned event? And don't try to tell me that it's just how people dance these days. It's not dancing at all, its just humping to the rythm of shitty rap music. I called out a couple of guys whose hands were straying south of the border, but at some point I said to myself, "What's the point?"
Dancing has always been a highly sexualized affair, the grinding comes more from the increased impatience of Western society in a modern time. People, especially the young, just don't tease eachother anymore the way they used to, instant gratification impulses causing them to fail to see the purpose. It's not all hopeless, though. If you harken back to your memory, you'll probably realize the majority of those who enjoyed grinding were the youngest of the students, and they can hardly be blamed for growing up in the exact moment that the media grinds itself against sexualization while frowning upon actual sexual expression. Our youth are just really horny is all. It's like the drug culture of the 60s, or the Rock 'n' Roll of the 50s, except this time they rebel with sex. It's only really depressing when everybody stops grinding on slow songs and goes to the sidelines. Damned stupid kids.
This is why I spent my 'prom,' so to speak, drinking with a handful of friends. Style, taste, whatever you can think of, is all out the window. Saw a fellow today who was probably a couple years younger than me wearing bright yellow shoes with black, skin-tight jeans. The music he was listening to was tuneless noise. I also saw about twelve teenagers with prams/pushchairs. I just don't get it. I grew up through the same crap. What did I miss? On the actual subject of dance though, if it isn't graceful or at least respectable, I'm off.
I like dancing and I'm really good at it as well. I'm good at it because I have a black soul. And it is a well-known fact that black people, who were once, in America's glorious past, referred to as cottonpickers, have more rhythm than all them fake faux crackers out there. I also excel at dancing because my black soul is femine, it is only trapped in a male body. And dancing makes my black feminine soul escape the sexual boundaries of the flesh. I dance the salsa. I dance the tango. And I dance the sexy dance, the dance where I put on one of my girlfriend's thongs and I just really pull that piece of string between my buttocks, shaking my nutsack (which is too big to fit in any of my girlfriend's thongs, even though she's a fat ass bitch with huge HUGE tentflaps). Sometimes I like to pour warm milk over my body while I dance. Or I go to the butcher's and I buy some offal, you know, like pig's intestines and then I dance while caressing some pig's intestines. I also like to dance when I'm drunk. That's funny stuff.
