Everybody's Twerking for the Weekend

Our good friend Bob Dylan once sang that "Sometimes Satan comes as a man of peace," and it follows logically that sometime the worst possible influence on your kids and humanity in general would come as a Disney child star.

That is certainly the case with Miley Cyrus, who gave a truly horrific end-times-worthy performance with Robin Thicke and a bunch of stuffies at the MTV Video Music Awards the other night in Brooklyn, wearing only a skin-toned bikini and wielding a freewheelin' foam finger.



It was a pathetic attempt to gain attention and do life-support on what's left of her has-been career, a cynical way of saying "I'm not your Hannah Montana anymore."

But in addition to the tween-traumatizing simulated sex acts and rapper cliches, perhaps the most offensive thing about it was just how void of talent or originality she is. Her attempt to get in on the "twerking" fad, in which one shakes one's booty in an exaggerated, almost double-jointed manner, might have been actually interesting had it turned out she were actually a gifted twerker, or for that matter, had a booty. But not only can Cyrus not twerk, she can barely walk across the stage in a rhythmic manner.

To show twerking in its empiric ideal, Jon P., Rock Turtleneck's Chief Twerkologist, points us in the direction of this video "Twerk" by a Southern-fried filth rapper named Lady Twerk. 

Lady Twerk's eponymous ode is to twerking what Chubby Checker's "Let's Do the Twist" is to the Twist or Los Del Rio's "Hey Macarena" is to the Macarena: the definitive statement on an era-defining dance craze. As Lady Twerk's video clearly shows, twerking can be an art form when placed in the right, err, hands. 



Miley's foam finger rubbing her nether regions was a middle finger to the legions of artisanal twerkers out there. The morale of what RT hopes is a career-ending cautionary tale for our all-grown-up Ms. Montana? Twerking ain't easy, girl - it's hard werk.