“Written description of how soukous women have their waist” in one word, undulating

(Every once in a while, Google Analytics’s list of keywords that bring you, Dear Reader, to my blog comes up with good ideas to write about. The scary thing is that converse of the truism that there is someone writing about pretty much anything on the Internet holds true: there is someone searching for pretty much everything on the Internet. Et voilà today’s post, inspired for you by the intrepid Googlenaut searching for “Writtendescription of how soukous women have their waist”. My blog was at no. 3 when I wrote this post; I should hope it rises somewhat.)

The Dany Engobo/Coeurs Brisés videos, where the mild and inoffensive zouk tunes clearly play a supporting role to the hypnotic tummy-shaking of the Coeurs Brisés (Broken Hearts) troupe of dancers, could be, if you took them lightly, campy as all get out, but I don’t see them that way. Instead, there’s something deeply serious about the attractiveness of lissome women moving hypnotically to the middle-aged male head of family. Strangely enough, watching such dance videos for an hour or so, or the length of a VHS tape, always proved relaxing, like a nice afternoon nap, rather than erotically stimulating.

A couple years later I met the guitarist Diblo Dibala after a summer concert at South Street Seaport. My buddy from work Rose was a friend of one of his two backup dancers, the older one. The younger one had managed to shatter boundaries by being a Brooklyn girl (bizarrely nicknamed Electra) who was touring the world as an African dancer. This only reinforced to me the complete inauthenticity of soukous music and soukous-dancing videos; these were products of late 20th-century cultural capitalism, not the honest and straightforward expression of prelapsarian village life that is the default approach to African cultural products. In other words, folks were watching these videos (and Diblo’s dancers) not because they had some kind of cultural relevance to the viewer, but because they liked the dancing, or the physiques of the dancers, or both. My interest was validated; I didn’t have to come from some Kinshasa faubourg in order to appreciate it.

Here are some examples:


‘husband deceived wife for years,’ or who’s reading my blog

On the advice of a super high-speed Posterous blogger, I signed myself up for Google
Analytics on the blog. The numbers I can take or leave with
equanimity, but what has become an endless source of diversion are the
search terms that my readers use to find the blog here. There are a
couple searches for “Anna Karenina” and I got one for “Richard Stark” yesterday, but the best one so far was ‘husband deceived
wife for years.’ What on earth have I written about that on this blog
that would bring my to the attention of that particular query term?

And what a sad phrase to search for; was it the betrayed and bereft
wife who typed it into the box, leaving a wake of bemusement behind?

Drôleries de google

Searching for Edith Nylon records just now, I came across the following
result in everyone’s favorite search engine:
Votre recherche “Edith Nylon Quatre essais philosophiques” ne
correspond à aucun produit.


Since Edith Nylon is a French punk band from thirty years ago and
quatre essais philosophiques are, well, four philosophical
essays, it’s hard to understand what exactly was being sought
originally, and it’s unclear why exactly this particular conjunction
is preserved for eternity in some search engine’s amber of memory.

Off to movie night, chers internautes.