Every concert has a Designated A--hole, whose job it is to solipsize himself and dance as if he had Area 51 to himself. This usually entails bumping, jostling and all-out careening into other concertgoers, who respond to the clueless aggression by moving away, putting up elbows (me) or punching the dick, which tends to draw the bouncer’s attention more than the Whirling Douchish himself. None of these are satisfactory answers to the question of how we deter such offensive displays.
With apologies to that Scientologish book and movie, I have the Secret: give one person in the venue a syringe of polio, and warn the crowd.
Infecting someone with Live Man Non-Walking disease is the perfect antidote to reckless raving. There’s nothing the raver loves more than superlimbinality, with a close second to glowsticks. The downside to forced sitting is denying the United States the opportunity to harness the vast reserves of green energy these engines of eccentricity produce every weekend, though bum cup-shaking can make up much of this. Rob-Lowe-in-"Thank-You-for-Smoking" Syndrome is another risk, but Zen garden-tending unleashes itself on others only when the gardener relates his tending at sushi happy hour.
Of course, the person given this awesome power to FDR must be blameless, unbiased and in complete control of his passions (and yes, I mean "his" - come on, women?). In other words, a figure like Jesus...'s fictional predecessor, Plato's philosopher king. Someone who can see the Form of expressive dancing at concerts and make the call, unblinking and swiftly, when the DA emerges in the pit. (Peripheral DAs, usually in the back of the crowd, are a subject for another day.)
You may rightly object: What happens if a group of DAs decides to gang up on the Polionator, like suicide bombers on the Mossad or Agent Smiths on Neo in the second Matrix? How will he (and yes, I’m firm on this male thing) manage to prick every prick? Aren’t we just escalating the violence?
To which I respond: Shouldn't you be having sex with your ridiculously tall wife, Dennis Kucinich? The obvious answer is, the Polionator just starts sticking everyone as fast and recklessly as he can.
When concertgoers realize they can be unjustly pricked because of the DAs, they will police the crowd themselves to halt any wriggling that deviates beyond a personal sphere. Women will kick the offenders (typically male) in the groin, and men will grab their arms and twist backwards, known as Biffing. Even small transgressions will be swiftly dealt with, like Rudy Giuliani’s police department applying the Theory of Broken Windows.
And all will dance happily ever after. Also, perhaps, warily.