Pelvic thrusts are the devil's work
“…This kind of body motion is a private thing. On stage, performed by a crowd of people we don’t know, it degrades the very essence of what makes human beings special.”— Jane Jimenez, columnist at AgapePress, on how her soul is hot and bothered by pelvic thrusts she sees while in the gym.
People, I cannot possibly make this sh*t up. I am, once again, nearly speechless…
Have you been thinking about pelvic thrusts lately? I haven’t, but the more godly among us may be better equipped ponder over what what your hips and mine might be doing in the gym, on the TV, you know — right in the AmTaliban’s sensitive line of vision.
Jane Jimenez, a former elementary school teacher and self-described “freelance writer dedicated to issues of importance to women and the family” will show us the way from head to crotch.
I sit in the MegaGym lobby, waiting for my husband. A big screen television entertains us. Or should I say … Sean and The Babes entertain us. Sean struts and bobs across the television screen, pointing and rapping. Behind him the Babes gyrate. Rap and gyrate, bodies in motion, bobbing and pointing and thrusting.
Honestly, I sit in a MegaWorld of body parts thrusting, and not one of them is a pelvis. Except for Sean and his Babes.
A mother walks over with her young son, and they each settle into a brown leather chair. Clearly, like me, they are just passing time. For lack of something to do, their eyes turn to Sean. He gyrates with a Babe. He gyrates with another Babe. Two babes at once. And then they do a round of pelvic thrusts. I want to cover her son’s eyes. Sean bumps and grinds while his ten Babes get in a tight chorus line. In time with the music, in unison they do pelvic thrusts. A mother and her two toddlers walk behind me heading for the family locker room. I am embarrassed for them.
I want to go to the Customer Service desk and ask why we are not watching a basketball game. Or what about ballet, Nureyev or Baryshnikov doing power leaps across the stage? Or swing dance? Or ice skating? Of all the wonderful things we humans can do with our bodies, in a MegaWorld that exercises every muscle known to man without needing one pelvic thrust … why are we subjected to big screen Sean and his Babes?
They lick their lips and shoot us sultry glances. [Do you get the sense that she’s getting turned on and having “dirty thoughts” by this description yet?] She against him, him against her … and her … and her. A chorus line of pelvic thrusts, and I suddenly want this song to end.
Was it only half a life ago that Elvis provoked national outrage with one twitch of a nervous leg? Yet, with a career built on body motions, I never remember Elvis doing one pelvic thrust with a babe onstage.
Pelvic thrusts are common fare in America these days. Most people would consider them no big deal. MTV and Internet porn have given us bigger things to worry about. But, if little things don’t matter, I wouldn’t be here in the MegaGym trying to undo the damage of an extra ten calories. Big things are grown from little things.
Perhaps the only thing that tops this piece was my post on the Stepford Wives organization of the AmTaliban, Homemakers for America, whose head Kim Fletcher’s desire to return to the 1950s (“We are the homemakers. Men build the house. We make the home.”) was completely bizarre.