November 10, 2019

Alison Balsam's dance mixtape for depressive cerebrals, to block out their self-consciousness and let the music take over their body

An intriguing character from the not-so-woke Left is Alison Balsam (@foolinthelotus on Twitter). Her persona is a depressive, cerebral wordplayer whose disillusionment with horniness is leading her to becoming a spinster (volcel). Although not-so-woke, she attracts followers from the liberal and radlib parts of the Left because the online Left's fundamental shared trait is mental illness of one kind or another -- so someone who makes depression central to their persona is bound to have broad appeal among leftists.

I use the word "persona" because there are times when she breaks character and we get to see her passionate and corporeal side. It's not often, but regular enough to know that it's a core part of who she is, always stirring beneath the surface. This makes her unlike the depressive leftoids who just whine and rage all day long, and whose light moments only amount to numb, mumbling sarcasm. Thoroughly depressed people are boring -- they may or may not be insightful, but not entertaining. And Alison is entertaining even to non-depressives, especially the recurring theme of her charming yet exasperating encounters with the critter world.

If she hadn't mentioned it, I'd have thought she was 10-15 years younger. She has a distinctly youthful mode of expression, which I attribute to her post-horny / volcel tendencies. Not piling up a certain body count has kept her from sounding jaded, weathered, and grizzled. Her tone is more like a precocious college student -- and so is the eagerness and yearning for something fun to happen in life, in contrast to most depressive cases. She's more of a frustrated fun-lover than a numbed-out buzzkill.

And if she were a total cerebral, she wouldn't have such a fondness for physical, tactile objects like old editions of books, vinyl records, and vintage furniture. If it's only the informational content that counts, who cares what material form it comes in?

She also wouldn't have such a weak spot for dance music:

I can overlook the minimalist euthanasia soundtrack stuff she posts in a depressive mood, if she overcomes that with body-moving lose-yourself music like that. She's really fond of the second half of the '80s, the vulnerable phase of the 15-year cultural excitement cycle. That was the hangover after the manic first half of the '80s (which overall would be a little too bouncy and upbeat for her personality).

An earlier post examined the turn that dance music takes toward minor-key, start-and-stop rhythms, and heavy layers of repetitive trance-inducing hooks, during the vulnerable phase of the cycle. This appeals to audiences who are in a social and emotional refractory state -- and so, most like a depressive and socially anxious person. They aren't feeling invincible like in a manic phase, so they can't just throw themselves out there on the dance floor -- they need to be coaxed and comforted, and to feel like they don't have to make a firm decision. Rather, their body is merely being possessed by some spirit or force, and they're passively going along with whatever it's making them do.

I think the late '80s vulnerable phase has songs more to the liking of someone like her, instead of the early 2000s or the late 2010s, because they built up more slowly and steadily back then. Someone who feels awkward about putting themselves out on the dance floor does not want to be overwhelmed by a sudden maximum level of energy, right as the song begins. They can ultimately resonate with a high energy level, they just need more time to get comfortably immersed in the groove, one level at a time. And it can't ever get too fast of a tempo, or too major-key of a tone, or else it wouldn't strike a chord with their fundamental depressive core. It needs to stay moody.

Since the late '80s is tailor-made for these types, let's explore further examples. This isn't so much of a standalone mixtape -- it's more of a list of initial songs to get the person to loosen their inhibitions, dissolve their self-awareness, and just let go of their cares. Then other higher-energy songs could fill out the playlist.

First, a precursor that still belongs to the new wave era of the early '80s, but points the way toward the second half. Laura Branigan's cover is even more early '80s, way too overpowering for a depressive cerebral. The original by Raf is slower in tempo and in its build-up, it's more moody and haunting, and the vocal delivery is more anxious and insecure.

"Self Control" by Raf (1984)

And now for the late '80s proper, dominated by the freestyle genre (I chose extended mixes for their even more gradual build-up, to ease the listener-dancer into the mood).

"Dare Me" by the Pointer Sisters (1985)

"I Can't Wait" by Nu Shooz (1986)

"Fascinated" by Company B (1987)

"Show Me" by the Cover Girls (1987)

"Cross My Heart" by Eighth Wonder (1988)

It's only Sunday, so that leaves plenty of time to get familiar with these songs in order to use them as inhibition-dampeners by the coming weekend.


  1. "Cross My Heart" changed key, minor to major, when Martika covered it for pop audiences. The club-oriented version by Eighth Wonder sounds more like the other dance hits of its time, almost all of which were in a minor key to give it the necessary downer tinge of the vulnerable phase of the excitement cycle.

  2. Degenerate drug use vs. trad dance music, for altering consciousness. One is cerebral, acting directly on brain chemistry through shortcuts. The other is corporeal, resulting from one's own kinesthetic activity.

    Similar to taking testosterone, Viagra, etc., vs. lifting weights, performing physical chores and hobbies, flirting with girls, etc.

    Alison smokes the occasional blunt, but unlike the fully cerebral leftoids and wine moms she's not dependent on booze, pot, coke, and other activity-free shortcuts, to step out of her ordinary mindset. She puts on music and goes out for a walk instead.

    She's never mentioned going to dance clubs, or dancing around her apartment, but that would achieve the effect even better than just listening to the music. Maybe after a single drink to loosen up.

  3. Clearly not this Alison Balsom:

  4. It's a play on "Alberto Balsam," a song by Aphex Twin.

  5. Synchronicity from Groyperland --

  6. Alison confirmed for booty woman: "mass surveillance is when men look at my ass"

    Had a hunch when she said she couldn't enter the competition over chest size with the other online left women:

    More evidence that corporeal people are ass people and cerebrals are boob people. (Women having them, men drawn to them)

    That's why I say "persona" about her being a cerebral. It's only partly true -- no one with a weak spot for dance music, and who has a nice butt rather than big boobs, can be a pure cerebral. There's a fundamental corporeal side deep down that she cannot will out of existence, just to fit in with the rest of the Foucault-referencing crowd.

    Depressive women like her need a corporeal ass-man to make them forget about their worries through dancing close together, not a digital legion of boob-men reply guys who are only going to parrot back frowning emojis, reinforcing her depressive cerebral side.

    You can find us out on the dance floor, not on irony twitter.

    Another hit from the second half of the '80s, though major-key and more uplifting:

  7. "Let the Music Play" came on while driving. Alison must be really horned up tonight if her energy can affect the radio stations in another state.

    The real sexual repression in 2019 is not from Christian fundamentalists toward gay furries, but from irony-poisoned leftoids toward thicc-booty cuties who just want to get their groove on.

    "Trance-inducing dance music -- yikes, horny on main much?" Shut the fuck up puritan. You're just jealous that your nerdy little body has no rhythm (you're bad in bed).

    Dancing is not going to the opposite extreme, though, of slutting it up in defiance of the horny police (whether on the left or right). It's corporeal, even ritualistically sexual, but not actually sexual. It channels the libido and allows for catharsis after the night is over, all without having to "have sex".

    The volcels have already promoted weightlifting and exercise -- now it's time for them to reclaim dancing in order to live a proper full life, neither puritanical nor debauched.


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