Tucked away in the brick and mortar of downtown Center Street lives a mysterious institution of which many claim to know. In today’s bumping and grinding culture, Provo’s “Country Swing Dancing” club supposedly stands as a charming refuge from sin. While the club certainly attests to offer innocent Provo residents a wholesome place to dance the night away, recent ex-cult members say it is your soul you must sign away instead.
Late Sunday evening, the Alternate Universe received a tell-all email from a BYU student who says she recently escaped the cult’s clutches.
Her shocking expose dove deep into the nefarious roots of the organization, including everything from their ritual practices to how their secret has been concealed for so long. In order to protect the victim’s identity, this article will refer to the author of the letter as “Amy”.
“First of all,” Amy wrote, “the first rule of swing dancing club is don’t talk about what really goes on at swing dancing club. Once you find out, they force you to take a blood oath of secrecy.”
“You don’t know you’re doing their ritual until you’re in too deep. They line you up to teach the moves and you don’t know any different. What I thought was the Cotton-Eyed-Joe turned out to be an ancient worship dance to a pagan god. I cannot express in more plain terms that this is the great and abominable church of the last days that the prophet Nephi saw in vision.”
Dr. Curtis Child, part of the sociology faculty at BYU, says the institution has been the subject of his post-doctorate research for years. He shared with us his thoughts on this recent testimony.
“Since 2001 I’ve been intrigued by how something so dorky could gain such an unapologetic following. I always suspected those poor kids were being brainwashed. These testimonies were the missing piece I needed on my detective board.”
Perhaps more concerning than the club’s manipulative nature is the rate at which it is increasing in loyal followers. In her letter, the whistleblower detailed the group’s recruiting tactics—mentioning that they groom tall, lanky, overconfident males aged 18-22 to become missionaries for their cause.
According to an investigative poll, 8.5 out of ten BYU students say they have been pressured to go swing dancing more than once by that one tall guy in their ward who wears a satchel. Seven of ten specified they felt a threatening amount of pressure and now avoid him at church.
The bottom line: friends don’t let friends go to country swing dancing. If anything good can arise from such disconcerting news, it is a new resolve to look out for our fellow man and protect them from the evils of the last days.
According to Amy’s letter and other corroborating letters that have come out since, here is a helpful list of five subtle signs that your friend may be going country swing dancing:
- Wearing more flannel than usual
- Always gone between 8:30pm and midnight on Wednesday and Saturday nights
- Hanging out with that tall guy in your ward who wears a satchel
- Listening to more country music than usual
- Sacrificing animals to Satan in the bathtub