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August 24, 2010

John Tesh answers some mail.

Dear John Tesh,

I tried living in a bubble too. But after a couple days it got all sticky inside and smelled like farts. Was I doing it wrong?

Well, I’m not really sure how to answer this . . . My bubble covers the entire castle I live in and I have a half-million dollar ventilation system installed, and I assume you do too. Don’t you? I’m trying to imagine in my brain a smaller, cheaper bubble, but my mind can’t create something it hasn’t seen and doesn’t understand. I mean . . . . I just . . . . Why don’t you get one of your servants to Febreze it? I . . . it’s not rocket science . . .  just get on your Segway and go to the west wing of your castle, away from the smell. Or buy another castle . . . I don‘t understand. 

Dear Dr. Tesh,

How does one fuck ones soul--question one? Is there a cock that pierces conscience? follow up to question 2--what do you reckon should be the size of the cock? another one--what do you think one can do with a dead man's cock {the one cock that stakes claim to perfection}, that is if you are not a necrophile. that shd keep u busy honey. 

I get asked this all the time. Personally, I prefer the Weird Science television series to the movie. I know, I know, it’s crazy, but I loved it. I loved everything about it. When I saw the movie in ‘85, as much as I enjoyed it, I was just thinking the whole time, this shouldn’t be a movie, it should be a series. It was such a great premise, such a great jumping off point and I felt there were endless things you could do with it. And low and behold they did just that. I recorded every episode on VHS and now and then I pop one in and it really takes me back to the early 90’s. Same thing goes for Singled Out. I remember watching those two shows religiously and I was really into poetry and sweaters and comfort food at the time and I even had “the Rachel” haircut. But yeah, I liked the show better. I also directed five episodes. 

Dear John Tesh,

I have a horrible Katy Perry song stuck in my head. Any advice?

Great question. Personally I love Katy Perry, so I’m not really sure why you wouldn’t want her music stuck in your head, but I’ve done a little research on this matter before and I think I can help.

Studies performed by researchers at Dartmouth University have determined a certain chemical in the brain is released when exposed to the mind-numbing frequencies of generic synth guitar riffs and multi-layered vocal hooks (particularly when performed by a failed Christian rock artist  overcompensating for a lack of talent with pseudo-lesbian lyrics) coupled with dance beats dressed up as a “rock song.“ To make matters worse, your brain automatically fills in the gaps, so to speak, which is why when you listen to artists such as Katy Perry, you automatically imagine pink converses with cutesy skull and crossbones images like those a fourteen-year-old girl who hasn’t been exposed to punk rock would  draw on the way to an Avril Lavigne concert after ingesting too much sugar and feeling particularly “bad-ass.” So it’s perfectly natural, what you’re experiencing. 

Unfortunately, as of today, there is no cure.  However, all isn’t lost. There are a couple tricks you can do to ease the pain momentarily and gently persuade your brain into a different direction, whilst, hopefully leaving the horrible mind piercing music behind. 

The first method, I like to call Avoidance. The idea is to not listen to shitty music in the first place. So that means no MTV and try to avoid Top 40 radio stations. However, this is nowhere near as easy as it sounds. Studies have shown that the leading cause of a bad song stuck in one’s head comes from an annoying boyfriend/girlfriend with bad taste. I imagine your girlfriend is to blame for the Katy Perry (and I’m go out on a limb and assume you wrote the letters I received last month about things to do while America’s Next Top Model is on and how to get body glitter out of the cloth interior of your Hyundai). You could always break up with her, which probably isn’t a viable option because your girlfriend most likely is a really attractive person and while she has nothing interesting or original to say about anything is very good in bed and too ditzy to realize she could do much better than you. 

An even better way, a simple concept, yet very effective if done correctly, is to “scare” the song out. Think the hiccup ideology, but on steroids. A simple jump and a BOO won’t work, so you’re gonna have to get out the big guns. And this is where you can really get creative.  Try this:

After robbing a liquor store at gunpoint, immediately leave, taking a hostage (preferably a female one with a high-pitched shrilly voice) and jump into your stolen Mercury Cougar and drive like a bat out of hell to Mexico on the wrong side of the interstate. This works on many levels, as you can imagine. The cops on your tail, the oncoming traffic, the bitch screaming from the backseat in Spanish (personally I prefer an Hispanic hostage because not understanding what she is screaming adds to the tension and you’ll need someone to translate when you get to Mexico). However, all of this might not get the song out of your head if you know subconsciously that you’re not facing serious jail time, so you’re gonna want to make sure there’s a few casualties. I prefer to cap a few people back at the store and just get it out of the way, but sometimes when your adrenaline is pumping you get in a rush and forget, so you can always shoot out someone’s tires once you get on the road, and if worse comes to worst, you can just throw the bitch out of the car and let the cops trample over her. Spanish can’t be that hard to learn. 

Another method, a slightly simpler method, is just simple substitution. It’s as easy as listening to another song and letting it take the place in your brain. The thing is, you can’t just listen to any song and hope it will replace the one in your head; it can’t be drastically different. For example, since you have Katy Perry stuck in your head, you can’t just pop some Al Di Meola into the stereo, and expect it to take. It would be like reading a Goosebumps book followed by Ulysses. You have to use baby steps. I would start with something similar in complexity,  perhaps children’s sing-a-long music, and gradually move to something more complex, like something off Hilary Duff’s first album. 

Keeping that concept in mind, there is one more method I‘d like to tell you about, one I’ve been secretly developing over the past few years.

Imagine, if you will: You’re out with your girlfriend on the weekend. She insisted on driving and she thinks it’s cute that she’s not a good driver and you were almost crushed by a semi because she’s a wild,  free spirit like a Drew Barrymore character and she’s been in  a particularly good mood all day, so she’s wearing her huge sunglasses while she drive’s around from bullshit store to bullshit store and she’s pretending to laugh at boring mundane shit and talking non-stop in that accent that only comes out  when she’s walking around in the Apple store; using wit she picked up from reading Marie Claire articles, and just doing everything she can to be cute like she’s been taught to do her whole life, and then she goes and pops a shitty pop-rock album that a grown woman with any type of dignity what-so-ever shouldn’t own into the stereo and you have to deal with having two bars of Hot n Cold stuck in your head while you follow her through Claire’s and she keeps picking up cheap jewelry and making fake surprised expressions that she’s practiced in the mirror a hundred times and your face is sore from doing the same “oh, that’s nice” smile every time she shows you a bedazzled anklet that looks like something Porter Wagoner shat out and then you almost laugh for a second and think about saying that aloud, actually joking with her instead of nodding and smiling like a robot and you realize she won’t know who Porter Wagoner is and so you just scream NO at the top of your lungs in the middle of Claire’s. No! No! No!

Well, what if I told you it didn’t have to come to that? What if you could pop a pill into your mouth and have the song out of your head in a matter of minutes? Sounds like something in a Philip K. Dick novel, eh? Well it won’t be science fiction for long. A team of scientists and I are working on this very product and hope to have it on pharmacy shelves as early as next fall, if all goes well. This is where you (and all of my loyal fans)  come in.

We need volunteers, or lab rats, if you will, to study the effects of the pill in it’s latest incarnation. The first version of the pill was designed to slowly make you forget that you ever heard the song at all. We had twenty people all listening to a certain Hansen song over and over for about an hour. Then we gave them the pill. At first things seemed to be progressing as planned; we had it out of their heads in thirty minutes. Good but not Great. I insisted we kept pushing and get it down as low as possible. So I doubled up some of the ingredients and then took the subjects back to the test room on the 3rd floor of the basement lab in my castle. Well everything seemed normal.  Then they all put their headphones on and as soon as the music started, all hell broke loose. People were screaming and attacking each other, ripping each other’s clothes off, clawing, biting flesh off. It was madness. Luckily they were in a secured room and I turned the carbon monoxide on and eliminated the threat. 

The last five versions have had similar results. Actually similar probably isn’t strong enough of a word. It’s been the exact same result every time. As soon as they hear the song they go nuts and they have to be killed. It’s tragic, but I can’t have these people running around in society like a loaded gun waiting for somebody to pull the trigger and play the wrong song at the wrong time. But I can assure you, I’m almost positive, like 95% sure that we’ve got it right this time. Just send me your email if you’re interested and for your contribution you’ll get a free t-shirt and copy of my newest album of Christmas standards.