Scientists have drilled deeply into the psyche of the average heterosexual woman and managed to come away not only with sanity intact, but also with the sacred truth coveted by smarmy male club-skanks the world over: “which moves on the dance floor are likely to facilitate a healthy coat of stanky on my hang-down?”
Employing 3D modeling and biometric analysis, British psychologists at Northumbria University believe they have broken the secrets of rhythmic motions and trepanned out the key to a successful reproductive dance floor stratagem.
So, what is the answer to the question plaguing mankind (male-kind?) since scattered tribes began ritualistic mating displays around fire-pits over 200,000 years ago? Apparently, it has to do less with “roofies” and liquor than I previously thought.
“When you go out to clubs people have an intuitive understanding of what makes a good and bad dancer,” co-author Nick Neave, an evolutionary psychologist, told the BBC. “What we’ve done for the very first time is put those things together with a biometric analysis so we can actually calculate very precisely the kinds of movements people focus on and associate them with women’s ratings of male dancers.”
“We found that (women paid more attention to) the core body region: the torso, the neck, the head. It was not just the speed of the movements, it was also the variability of the movement. So, someone who is twisting, bending, moving, nodding.”
Let’s start with the successful model…
Our dedicated team of movement experts have broken down the “successful” technique into two parts for independent analysis; part one is “Ralph the raver gets lucky”.
Observing the first half of the dancing purported to enhance the odds of male evolutionary legacy, we are startled at the moves espoused right out of the gate. I am not sure what drugs British women are taking, but clearly we can observe the ubiquitous “running man” being flaunted as a routine appetizer. Your mileage may vary, but I have never equated this particular move as a precursor to evoking vaginal moisture in the fairer sex. In fact, even after the twelfth viewing, I am still gripped by a nebulous feeling of panic that tells me this could easily digress into the dreaded “Cabbage Patch” at any moment. Thankfully, we are spared further vicarious shame for our friend Ralph and instead treated to a little ravey soft-shoe jig. You can almost smell the Vicks vapor rub and hear the pounding “Oontz oontz oontz!”
In part two, we see far more of interest to the alternatively-inclined. The moment where we see our little avatar friend perform a turn, we see the beginnings of a crude gothic two-step, culminating with familiar wide-armed movements and the box step. Indeed, this is the validation of 1992 that I have sought after my entire adult life….if only the Sisters of Mercy were still alive to enjoy it with me.
Now, the sweet is never as sweet without the sour to give us reference. Here is Mr. Bungle doing the “Dad can Dance”:
Mr. Bungle seems to be stuck in a congo line formed in the 5th circle of hell….only the “Macarena” could possibly follow this monotonous disaster of a mating display. If you are one of the yearning horny legion of Mr. Bungles relegated to performing Satan’s congo line by anti-rhythmic caucasian genes, I suggest you leave the dancing to capable professionals with natural propensity and stick to learning the subtle intricacies of surreptitiously inoculating drinks with copious amounts of GHB.