Is Shane Cortese the new Jason Gunn?

Yes, I do actually, think I can dance. And I'm quite good, really, after a bottle and a half of something alcoholic.

This is a lie. I once thought I was quite good at dancing after a bottle and a half of something alcoholic. Until the night I happened to catch sight, in a window, of somebody who should have been locked up in the bin and never let out.

This would have been a kindness. So You Think You Can Dance (last night, TV3) is not about kindnesses. It is, but you knew this already, about ritual humiliation in the guise of talent spotting.

Warren, oh Warren, what were you thinking? You should really find those mates who told you they thought your dancing was amazing.

You might want to pummel them. You might want to get some help. Judge Michael Parmenter (goodness, Michael Parmenter!) said he thought your dancing had more to do with "therapy than with dance as performance".

Your little lip wobbled. Set up, you accused. You weren't paranoid at all. No, really. And there are aliens who beam people up and take them to a planet far, far away and brainwash them into thinking they can dance. Truly. They teach them the "jump spinning" move. Then they send them back to Earth and get other aliens (who look like your friends, Warren) to tell you that you should go on a dance show.

Then they sit up there on their planet, watch the telly, and tears of laughter roll down their funny little alien faces.

This is a scenario only as unlikely as the one Warren painted. "I think I've been completely tricked. I put in my application that my best move is ... to jump spin on and off the stage. There was something on the bottom of the stage that made you slip if you tried that. They must have done that on purpose to get me."

Yes, Warren, you have been tricked. That footage of you jump spinning, or falling off the stage, will play over and over and over again. And you won't get a cent for your contribution. You really might want to talk to those so-called friends about compensation.

You can't feel sorry for Warren. Anyone silly enough to think they can dance and to go on a show like this, in which you no doubt sign a release form ensuring that footage of you falling off the stage can be shown over and over again, gets what they deserve.

We will see "ego, attitude, drama and confrontation". And Warren. We will also see Shane Cortese hosting the thing. Is he the new Jason Gunn or the new Dominic Bowden?

And is Michael Parmenter the new Paul Ellis? "That looked like a bucket of water had been thrown over the whole thing," said Parmenter. He has some competition from Harry who has done dancing in Estonia. "It was sort of like Barbie gone wrong," said Harry.

There could be some tension between Michael and Harry. Harry expected to see a six-foot-four rugby league player. He got contemporary dance from a thin bloke. "I'd like to challenge you on that," said Michael. "Why do you have to be big and tough and butch?"

"Well, you're an expert on that," said Harry whose sense of humour makes you suspect that life isn't a laugh a minute in Estonia.

But we're not in it for the laughs. This is serious stuff. Because nobody looks silly when they're dancing. Just ask Warren.