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How to survive Auschwitz

kturet — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 08:08:10 +0000

How to survive Auschwitz

“The camps were not universities,” explains a helpful Holocaust survivor in The Reader, an Oscar-winning film from 2008. “There was nothing to learn from being in them or from visiting them.” Fortunately for us stressed-out recession survivors, Psychology Today rejects such harmful negativity while dealing life lessons from Auschwitz!

Just imagine what Poland’s besieged Jewish community might have accomplished with the informational and emotional resources of and Psychology Today, had they been available back in 1944.

Oy! The tragedy! Even today, Twitter, with its inexhaustible cache of self-styled (s) and green-themed avatars, has stoked me with the emotional support to weather such traumatic events as riots and the .

Speaking of which, we finally hold one honest election in this country, and all of a sudden we’re experts?

You doesn’t have ta call me Ray

But enough about lost causes. The lightweight champ of this self-help story is author , whose new column in Psychology Today, deceptively titled , actually dispenses valuable Auschwitz survival advice!

Talk about burying the lead!

(For those who avert their eyes from supermarket checkout displays, Psychology Today is a fluffy periodical whose hit-and-run analysis lets people feel good about themselves — even when they shouldn’t.)

Thanks to Twitter for hipping me to Ray B. Williams’s work, via this perky tweet from the professionally excited , whose Twitter bio describes her as: Serial entrepreneur! Leadership coach! Author & Lecturer! Educator with boundless energy!

CarolLeavitt

(Carol Leavitt)

Here's an interesting story about tapping your inner strengths to stay happy during the recession: http://bit.ly/iviUn Enjoy! -Carol

On 24-6-2009 04:18:17 from

Well, I like being happy! And who knows? Maybe the author will also clear up that mystery over .

Don’t worry, be sappy

At first skim, Ray B. Williams appears to recycle familiar platitudes the ruling class feeds to beaten serfs after stripping them of all treasure and dignity: Pursue meaningful life goals. Learn how to live in the present moment. Nurture meaningful relationships.

Boring! Tried all that. Didn’t work. I’m still broke, and praying for death.

But then, a revelation!

Focus on your strengths rather than your weaknesses.

Holocaust survivor and psychiatrist Viktor Frankl wrote in his best seller, Man’s Search for Meaning…that those people in the camps that focused on their inner strengths and choosing how they viewed things, were happier and better survivors [emphasis added]….

I get it now. If I want to Stay Happy During the Recession, all I gotta do is emulate those happy concentration camp survivors!

Hitler said it best

Just stay positive, and life will take care of itself. It’s like Hitler said: “If those Jews in Auschwitz all die, I’ll just find some Jews with a better attitude to take their place!”

Difficult to keep your focus, though. Now I’m imagining a Recession in Auschwitz. Shudder! The perfect storm!

No, no, no! Don’t give in to negativity! Do you want to be one of the “happier and better” concentration camp survivors Ray B. Williams (co-founder of Success IQ University!) wrote about, or one of those loser survivors?

Just noticed the word in the phrase concentration camp is hyperlinked in Ray B. Williams’ article. Hyperlink points to glossary entry (“Psychology Today looks at Concentration”) reading, “Not being able to pay attention leads to a state worse than death: boredom.”

Does anybody edit this shit?

Whatever. You know what? If you got it, I’m gonna survive it. Know why? ‘Cause I’m a survivor, that’s why! Take that, Recession! You too, Auschwitz!

And hey, Grandma. I wanna get me one of those cool tattoos — just like the one you have on your arm!

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Nation asks: Who will be the next weiner?

kturet — Fri, 01 May 2009 18:57:25 +0000

Nation asks: Who will be the next weiner?

The time for panic will arrive soon enough.

As the Department of Homeland Security often reminds us, every American should know when to abandon all sense, cover your mouth and nose with a 10-cent dust mask from Home Depot and imagine you’re bleeding internally.

But that moment is not here yet.

Nevertheless, these is tough times for pigs, what with Mexico’s population decimated from the swine flu and Americans unsure for the potential pandemic. Should we blame the Mexicans or the pigs? Or the gays, unwed mothers, and for the hell of it, our old standby, the Jews?

Pig love

The has sidelined such popular acts as the , my old nemesis from the 2008 Fort Worth Mayfest, and I imagine some apprehension among families regarding the status of a good many midwestern county fairs scheduled for this summer.

From my perspective, I always enjoy visiting the Pig Barn and waiting patiently for a smiling, 4,000-pound swine, with an 8-digit tattoo on its left ham like an Auschwitz victim, struggle to its feet to enjoy a farewell scratch under the chin.

They’re intelligent animals, really! Even smarter than dogs, which are really, really smart animals themselves!

News alert: Ham Bone Express sequestered!

Which brings me back to the Ham Bone Express. Whole hog excitement for your next event! pronounces its site, which also proclaims it champions of the dubious NPRA (National Pig Racing Association).

The proprietors write:

Greetings Ken,

Charlie and I just read your blog. You my friend are very funny.

At this point the public mood has not affected our bookings. However, we have made the choice to sequester our olympig racers to elevate the chance of suspect fair goers contaminating our precious pampered performers.

Thanks for your concern and keep on racing!

Charles and Carol Boger

Now, Carol mounts a brave front (cleverly turning the controversy on its curly little ear, so to speak), but I know she’s concerned about the future of her enterprise. The shame of it is, pig racing was just earning long-deserved recognition as a big-time sport, rivaling pro wrestling and Major League Baseball. I mean, it’s at least as legit as NASCAR!

Who will be the next weiner? asks the inscription on the Ham Bone Express trailer.

That’s a question all of us should be asking ourselves right now. Will it be me, you, or the swine flu?

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Mayfest pulls plug on pig flu scare

kturet — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 23:21:31 +0000

Mayfest pulls plug on pig flu scare

Oh, how the sausage turns.

Almost exactly one year ago, I was performing on the Zone Stage at Mayfest 2008 in Fort Worth, vainly competing for audience share with the far more appealing . I didn’t stand a chance.

“I’m not finished entertaining you yet!” I hollered as the crowd abandoned me for the bright lights and carny appeal of the neighboring pig races.

Wonder how those little piggies are feeling today? I’ll bet current events have really got them on the run.

Have you heard about this swine flu epidemic?

Via on , I learn that Tarrant County Health Department authorities have canceled “in the interest of public health and safety.”

Seems a bad case of has upset the old corn dog cart. (Hats off to faddish social media, proving to be quite the valuable tool in helping foment of public health scares!)

Who’s coughing now, Mayfest?

Actually, I’d been feeling a bit down since the Mayfest folks declined to bring me back for another run at that Ham Bone Express crowd. I don’t think they appreciated my account of last year’s festival.

Not feeling so bad any more. Except for a little cough, that is. Might be running a temperature, too. I think I’ll go to the mall, hang out with the crowd and breathe some fresh air.

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Ben Twisted returns fire, grazes target

kturet — Tue, 17 Mar 2009 08:32:27 +0000

Ben Twisted returns fire, grazes target

The sensitive comedic artist known as Ben Twisted, inexplicably stung by remarks I clearly meant as supportive and encouraging, has issued a on his own blog.

I only happened to mention Ben as an afterthought during a frank, recent discussion of Steve Wheatley’s fine, fine power-pop podcast, the daily .

But Ben, a West Virginia coal miner who strums guitar in his spare time, was surprised by this unfamiliar blast of publicity. Took it all wrong. Had plenty to say in return. Used words you use when you’re hurt, wanna hurt back.

In the interest of fairness, I present Ben’s remarks here, unedited (except to correct the more egregious grammatical errors. He is from West Virginia, after all):

Ben Twisted gets slapped by the long arm of a two-bit guitar-playin thinks-he’s-funnyman by the name of Ken Turetzky. Runnin his yapper (with seemingly no shutoff valve) from the security of his far-away home in Dallas, Texas, Ken avoids a good-ol’ West Virginia buttkickin’ for rambling on about Dalecast (which is, of course, Ben’s favorite podcast), and saying of its host:

On podcast and radio stream alike, Steve continues to promote new artists, such as up-and-coming loser Ben Twisted, of Eat More People and Vasectomy fame.

Yet Ken continues to pump out such never-to-be classics as The Ballad Of Morris The Cat and dares to show his face on YouTube videos like (a question you want to ask him after hearing Ken sing).

I’d go on, but Ken’s story is just too pathetic and sad.

OK, all jokes aside. I’ve gotta admit — I like these crazy f*ckers. Steve plays the hell out of my tracks on Dalecast, and Ken makes me laugh. Sure, I laugh AT him instead of WITH him, but hey…that still counts. Right?

Rock on my friends. Thanks for mentioning my name.

What did I tell you? Guy’s crazy, right?

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Diebold, Sirius declare fini to countdown show fiasco

kturet — Wed, 10 Jan 2007 22:00:00 +0000

Hack the Vote

Diebold, Sirius declare fini
to countdown show fiasco

Thanks to all who supported in the mercifully concluded Song of the Year voting for .

Unfortunately, most of your votes were wasted, because in a scenario reminiscent of the last two presidential elections, somebody hacked the vote.

Lacking hard evidence, we’re unable to directly accuse one perpetrator. But voters and contestants responded with outrage as hope slipped away for their favorite profane melodies.

I promoted the vote heavily through this site, my mailing list, outlets and guest spots on popular . The contest featured the Top 16 songs, as chosen by Red Peters Show listeners on the Sirius Radio Howard Stern/Howard 101 Channel.

Accordingly, Her Shit Don’t Stink blasted off to an early lead and was soon embroiled in a battle for the top spot with The Muff Hair Song.

Who’s driving this thing?

And then something curious happened. The poll, administered for Sirius by a third party called , locked down. And when it resumed shortly afterward, only one song seemed to be collecting votes. Within days, that one song secured an insurmountable lead.

Feed back: Select the link at the end of this entry!

Finally, when votes once again began to register for the 13 songs that still hovered near zero percent, Muff Hair and Her Shit Don’t Stink (still running 2-3 in the vote) remained suppressed, and we could only watch as our percentages continued to shrink.

Response to previous Red Peters polls indicated listeners would cast hundreds of thousands of votes in the Top 16 poll, which ran from December 27 to January 10. Red invited visitors to to vote as many times as they wished and said he would announce the winner during the Season 2 premiere of his show on January 26.

Calling Red Peters

Some of you contacted Red early on, politely asking why your votes were not being counted. As the days passed, the tone grew angrier. “I know, bro! Like any other contest it’s rigged!” one contestant, whose total vote never approached 2 percent, told me.

L.A. musician Mad Dog (aka The Clamsmen) gave up in frustration, finally asking his mailing list subscribers to cease participation in the contest:

After nearly a week of the vote counter not working AT ALL, it suddenly started back up this morning and, despite many of us voting hundreds and thousands of times, my score has dropped steadily at the rate of 1% point an hour EXACTLY, never rising, only going down, down, down. It almost seems like my votes are going to the other guy!

And my former bandmate , after a beer-fueled night of fruitless attempted ballot-stuffing for Her Shit Don’t Stink, dashed off an angry note to Red and declared, “If they let everybody else cheat and they don’t let you cheat, hell, that’s cheatin’!”

Talk to me: Select the link at the end of this entry!

You may ask, why participate in a meaningless online vote, reluctantly sponsored by an indifferent satellite radio network, advertised as “intended for entertainment and amusement purposes only” and all-too-predictably resulting in the same old tsuris?

Are you asking? Because I’m asking.

Why we fight: Howard Fucking Stern

And so we expose the underlying, unspoken obsession that drives almost every aspiring entertainer — Good Lord, just get me on the show!

Carson’s dead, Leno’s a neutered weasel, Letterman lost his edge 20 years ago, leaving only one prominent, inspired, uninhibited, haimisch program host: Howard Fucking Stern.

Stern’s a fan of lushly produced, uncensored comedy music and upon joining Sirius, immediately granted Red a show. In turn, Red played our own profane comic tunes. The hell with Kevin Bacon — that’s only one degree of separation!

Fact is, we held out hope that Red would promote our songs during his appearances on the Stern show, or Holy Jesus, Stern or his staff would snatch up Her Shit Don’t Stink or Muff Hair or I Am Not A Terrorist and, I don’t know, bestow greatness on our desperate, home-brewed, compositions.

Now it looks like we’ll have to wait just a little while longer for superstardom. But thanks for the memories, Red. I know it’s just as tough for you out there as it is for the rest of us.

In the end, we’re all just competing to see who’s going to be the toughest cow on the feed lot.

Pegasus News has picked up the story:

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The exploited artist gets paid

kturet — Wed, 08 Nov 2006 00:07:52 +0000

The exploited artist gets paid

BMI is an American performing rights organization that represents more than 300,000 songwriters, composers and music publishers. And a lot of indie music artists are asking BMI, Where’s my money?

After three years of significant exposure (for an unknown indie artist) on terrestrial, satellite and Internet radio, I’ve finally received my first royalty check from . This initial payment for $10.25 covers the first quarter of 2006, for unspecified Internet radio play.

But what the music business gives with the left hand, it takes with the right. Tower Records more than balanced the scale by bouncing its final check for sales of my EP, and shipping my remaining inventory to the liquidators. I didn’t need those CDs, anyway. What was I going to do — sell them?

Hey, BMI. Is that all there is?

Yeah, gettin’ paid for gettin’ played is a milestone. But what took so long? Did BMI collect my royalties during the 28-month period for which I’ve still not been compensated? If not, why not? And if they did, where’s my money?

Performing rights organizations such as BMI and have traditionally collected and paid royalties based on surveys of radio playlists. But in a digital marketplace, such imprecise logarithms don’t wash. Complete records are readily available, via such services as .

Feed back: Select the link at the end of this entry!

If I want to track my Sirius Radio play, for example, I just search for “Turetzky” on . Oops! Looks like I may have fallen out of the rotation on Raw Dog Comedy. But the information is there, for anyone to consult. So, why can’t BMI find it?

It can’t just be me. Unless it’s just me.

And If I’m in this boat, so are thousands of other independent artists — who comprise the vast bulk of BMI membership, the ones who never appear on the cover of .

BMI has haughtily ignored my requests for proper accounting, although I’ve provided extensive of my Sirius Radio play.

Are you still waiting for your first check from BMI? Have you had a better experience with ASCAP? Let me know.

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