I am watching this talk show about strippers with supportive parents. They flash to this scene of an eighteen-year-old girl gyrating onstage.

She is constantly changing her mouth, making come-hither-for-I-am-a-bad-girl gestures. That pouty lip thing and cat eyes, drunk with her brand new, televised and parentally sanctioned power. Her young taut body writhing under velvet, she is mainly made up of undulations, wild blond hair and make-up with sparkles. She is giving it all she's got, and all she's got is fuck fuck fuck.

Suddenly the camera focus widens and I see the father at the foot of the stage, his awe struck face lit by flashing strobe lights, putting bluish highlights in his mullet. He turns to the camera and says, swallowing hard, "I'm seeing my daughter dance for the first time."

He turns around to look at her again. Her head is thrown back and she is thrusting forward with her hips, her pelvis right in line with his head.

"I mean, look at her." He says. "She's a beautiful woman, and this is a very marketable skill."

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