Presentation Week Part 4: Spectator Cuts to the Aces 3 Ways

Spectator Cuts to the Aces is definitely in my top 10 most performed tricks. I use John Bannon's Directed Verdict (or one of the variations) which is pretty much perfect. I almost always let the spectator shuffle first by holding out the aces and then palming them in. Actually, that's a lie. I don't "hold out" the aces and "palm them in." But there isn't really nomenclature that exists for a lot of the methods used in informal magic. The truth is the aces are in my hoodie pocket or behind a pillow on the couch, and then I just put them on the deck when they're not looking. 

Version 1 - (Peek Backstage) The No Patter Version

Spectator Cuts to the Aces is one of those tricks that magicians haven't really found a way to mess up with bad patter. It's a pretty pure trick, and I'm happy to present it that way. I'm not always advocating for a deep, world-building presentation. I just think those are the most fun to perform, interesting for the spectator, and they stay with them the longest. But remember that part of my patter algorithm I talked about earlier in the week is that if the patter isn't strong enough to stand on its own, then I dump it. So I'm not against a bare bones presentation, they just don't have the same long-lasting impact and are more for transient enjoyment. And that's fine, in fact it's a good thing for the non-pro performer to not always hit the same notes in a performance. Look, sometimes you want a long slow seduction that lasts half the night, sometimes you want to flip her skirt up and bend her over the kitchen table, and sometimes you just want to make-out on the couch in your underpants. The reason your love-life is so stale isn't because you're a terrible fuck. You've just been in a tired routine, possibly for years. Change things up. Okay, the truth comes out, this isn't a magic blog. Your wife hired me to get this message to you, and this was the only way I could think to approach you with your guard down.

Where was I? Yes, mix your style up.

The truth is, even when I perform with "no" patter, there is kind of a meta-patter going on. I'm about to give you a gift and give you the line I often lead into these performances with. I'm not exaggerating when I say it's a gift. It's a line that will have your spectator significantly more engrossed in what you perform. But I only use it on someone who has seen me perform something grander and more involved sometime previously.

I don't say, "Want to see a trick?"

I say, "Can I get your opinion on something I'm working on?"

or

"I've got something new I'm trying to work the kinks out of. Can I show you? I think you'd be perfect for this."

Or any similar words that express:

1. This is a work in progress. 

2. I specifically want to perform this for you.

We seriously undervalue the inherent interest in giving people a behind the scenes look at this type of work. If someone has seen you perform something that blew their mind in the past, I guarantee you that they are so primed to see "something you're working on." What often prevents people from going down this route is -- as I've mentioned all week -- that it conflicts with their need to be seen as real. "I can't ask someone to see a 'rough draft' because that would imply I'm not really psychic." Okay. Keep shooting yourself in the foot.

I don't want to come off as in love with my ideas if they're really not that great, but I truly believe there is magic in this line. It flips a switch in people. It's intriguing, flattering, and best of all, it's true. All our effects are works in progress, and you should want to perform it for that specific person (or else why bother?) and value any opinions and insights they can give. 

If it's still not clear why this is powerful, imagine this scenario... You go to your friend's house and he says, "Do you want to see the windmill photos I took that they're going to display at the coffee shop?" You say, "Sure." Now, unless you have some particular interest in windmills, you're going to flip through those things quick as shit so you can get on with your night. But if he says, "I'm really glad you're here. I was hoping I could get your thoughts on which of these windmill photos I should give to the coffee shop to display." You still have no interest in windmills or photography but now you're giving each one a good look, comparing composition, really getting into it. All that has changed is your friend went from showing you something to making you a part, however small, of the process. That makes people feel valued. And that stays with them.

Version 2 - The Ocean's Eleven Version

Spectator Cuts to the Aces isn't really a gambling trick, but I sometimes make it one. Gambling tricks are notoriously bad as far as presentation goes. They're either just demonstrations of skill, or they're these passive, dull stories about some old poker game you were supposedly in. I'm going to give you a generic gambling presentation that you can use for most gambling routines. It's really just a set of rules I apply to the way I present gambling tricks.

1. I make it active. (As in it takes place in the present tense. I'm not repeating some story about a game that didn't happen.)

2. I make it urgent.

3. It's not a demonstration or a trick. It's a rehearsal.

So for Spectator Cuts the Aces...

You [acting all coked up]:

Oh, dude, I'm so glad you're here. I need your help with something. Take a seat. Mix these up. Wait, wait. Not there. That's where the Brazilian will be sitting. I need you to sit here. Okay cool. Now I need to try something. Cut a small portion of cards off the deck. Actually... wait... put that back. He's left-handed. So I need you to do it with your left hand. Great. Okay, now another. And another. And one last one. Let's see what we've got.

[You turn over a 4 of hearts, 8 of hearts, King of clubs, and 7 of diamonds.]

Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. What the hell happened here? Goddammit. I just can't.... Hold on.

[You go in the other room and can be heard making a phone call.]

Call it off man, we're done. It's not happening [Pause] Listen dude, I said it's DONE. It's not going to work. So what the fuck are we doing this for? To get ourselves arrested or killed? No, I'm out. Find someone else. [Pause] What do you mean? I just tried it again. [Pause] No. Not one. [Pause] I don't know. You tell me, dude, because I sure as shit don't know. [Pause] No. That won't work. [Pause] Because it won't, that's why. We can't... wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Hold up. Is there any way we'll have access to the lighting in the room? [Pause] And Johnny can do that, right? Hold on, I need to try something.

[You hang up and go back into the room with your friend.]

Look, I'm going to tell you something, but you have to promise not to tell anyone or I'll rip your throat out. I swear to god. We have a big score coming up. Potentially a life-changing one. I got into a poker game this weekend that could set me up real nice for a real long time. I've got a crew together. We were supposed to have another couple months to figure this out, but the sultan's daughter threw a fit and got her wedding moved up and now they're in town this weekend. So we're trying to rush this shit, but it's not working. We have a way to introduce our own decks into the game, but it's all going to fall apart unless we can get the sultan to cut exactly where we want him to when it comes around to him. I'm killing myself trying to figure this shit out. But I might be onto something.

[You lower the lights in the room just slightly.}

Here. Cut the cards into four piles again. Here, here, here, and here. Turn over the cards you cut to.

[They're all aces.]

Oh my god. This is going to work. This is going to work!

[You take your friend's face in your hands and kiss him square on the lips.]

You can end here, with your friend wondering how the hell he cut to the aces by you adjusting the lighting, but I would take it further.

[A couple days later, rent a bright yellow Lamborghini. Drive to your friends house and lay on the horn until he comes outside. Roll down your window.] 

Hey dude. We did it. We fucking did it. It didn't go exactly as planned but we got that fucking money. Oh, I have something for you.

[You unzip your jacket to reach into an inside pocket. It's at this point your friend notices that you shirt is covered in what appears to be blood. You pull out a (fake) Rolex from inside your jacket.]

I want you to have this. You keep your mouth shut, okay?

[There are specks of blood on the watch. You roll up the window and drive away. Never contact this friend again.]

Version 3 - The Creepy Child Version

The idea of using an ace cutting routine to cut to something other than the aces is a good one. This presentation uses that idea.

Your friend, Lisa comes over to have dinner and watch a movie. On the coffee table is a crayon drawing done by a young child of a jumbled bunch of cars. "What's this?" she asks.

"Oh," you say, "My niece came over a couple days ago. She loves to draw. I actually told her all about you. She loved hearing about your cat. Oh wait! Want to see something weird? Look at that picture again. Now look at the cover of today's paper. Doesn't her drawing look way similar to the photo of this accident in the paper? I mean, it's not identical, of course. But it's like the same number of cars and this tree is in the same position. But she drew this three days ago. And that accident just happened yesterday. I mean, I know it's just a coincidence but it still freaked me out a little. Her mom is always telling me she has these visions that come true but her mom is such a flake. She also claimed that her grandmother had these visions as well, but then her grandmother got hit by a bus. So much for seeing the future, right?"

"Hey, can I get your opinion on something I'm working on?"

You perform the effect.

"Wouldn't it be amazing if you cut to the four aces?"

You turn over the first card, it's the ace of diamonds. The next card is the ten of diamonds, followed by the four of clubs and the six of hearts.

"Well, that needs more work. I think maybe you shuffled too much. Eh, it was worth a shot. Where should we order dinner from? I had chinese last night so I'd rather..."

As you talk your eyes fall back onto the cards Lisa cut to and your voice fades off.

"No way," you say, getting off the couch. You grab Lisa's hand and pull her with you to the kitchen. Stuck with a magnet to the refrigerator is a child's drawing of the ace of diamonds, the ten of diamonds, the four of clubs, and the six of hearts.

You stare at it for a moment. "I thought she just drew it because she knew I like magic and playing cards. I never imagined..." You pull it off the refrigerator and bring it back to the other room to compare it to the actual cards, just to be sure. "This is just so weird..."

Later that evening as you're clearing the coffee table to get ready for dinner, you move a magazine and another drawing that was under it falls to the floor. Lisa picks it up. It's a stick figure drawing of a woman riding a man in bed, her head thrown back in ecstasy. In a child's scrawl it says, "Uncle Andy" with an arrow pointing to the man, and "Lisa" with an arrow pointing to the woman. You look at it with Lisa. "Ha, wow... that's just... I mean... I'm sure she didn't know what she was drawing... kids just.... well.... they just have the craziest imaginations... don't they?" you say, as your hand brushes some strands of hair off her forehead and behind her ear. 

If you can't parlay that into some action, you're hopeless.

Presentation Week Part 3: The Reverse Disclaimer and A Headline Prediction Presentation

Magicians and mentalists don't like headline predictions for two reasons.

Issue 1

The first thing they'll say is that predicting the future is too bold a power to claim. It's not good to claim bold powers when you want to appear "real." There it is again, the desire for people to think you're doing it for real. Knock it off. You don't want people to think it's real, you want them to feel like it's real in the moment. I don't think you understand how off-putting it is to play it "real." Let's remove you and magic from the equation. Imagine you met someone who had a real interest in vampires and he could tell you all the lore about them and the trivia and he knew about every vampire movie ever made. Depending on his personality you might think, "This guy is dull," or "He's a little nerdy, but this guy is really interesting," or "Wow, I didn't even know I gave a shit about vampires, but this guy is enthralling!" It's very easy to imagine how we might interact with that person. But how would you react to one of those people who aren't just like, "I'm interested in vampires," but instead say, "I'm a real vampire." Does that seem like someone you could connect with? Would you have anything to say other than, "Well... that's a nice ring... uhm... oh, so which of your uncle's molested you?"

You might say that magic was built on a long tradition of people claiming to be real -- that it's the foundation of this art. First, I don't know if that's really true. Second, if it is true, then perhaps we should not look at that history as an example to be followed, but rather as the shackles of the past. Maybe it's time to recast the art away from the ideals of some socially awkward misfits from centuries ago who couldn't get an ounce of pussy without claiming to have some fake powers.

So claiming to predict the future, as in a headline prediction, is a bold statement that is unlikely to be accepted by an audience. Good. That is what we want. Crazy claims, presentations, and rationales are essentially reverse disclaimers. But they actually accomplish what a disclaimer is intended to in a much better way. With a normal disclaimer you just substitute one lie for another. "I'm not reading your mind. I'm reading your body language." No you're not. But I get why you say that. It feels more honest (even though it's not), and it lets your audience know that you're not expecting them to really believe in something supernatural, and it lets you pretend that your performance is just so overwhelmingly powerful that -- unless you tell people not to -- they're going believe you're some sort of wizard.

A reverse disclaimer is more honest because it's clearly fiction. And because it's clearly fiction the audience understands they don't need to analyze it critically. The reverse disclaimer might be, "I'm not going to read your mind. I don't need to. My invisible friend from childhood, Gerald is standing behind you and I can see the word in the book you're thinking of through his eyes. I met Gerald when I was 8. He caught me doing something... well, something shameful. And he has not left me alone since. When I was little I learned how to see through his eyes. At first it was fun. But as the years passed and I got real friends, I grew disinterested. That made Gerald very angry. If too much time passed without me playing with him, I would find that I'd blacked out and he would FORCE me to see through his eyes as he did those awful... awful things. [whispered] So much blood.... Well, that's not going to happen anymore because we are playing together now. Right, Gerald? Yes, yes. He's behind you right now. He's looking over your shoulder. Practically breathing in your ear. Gerald, stop it! Look at the first word or two on the page. Okay...yes... I can see it. It's... banana... banana bread?"

Or, you know, you could write the word on a clipboard.

Issue 2

The second problem people have with headline predictions is they're worried that something tragic might be on the front page on the day of their prediction. This concern might be somewhat valid for the stage performer. But not for those of us performing casually for friends, at small gatherings, etc. In fact it was this concern that gave me a great presentation idea. Not by alleviating the concern, but by amplifying it.

I have to say that this idea is so good that it must have been thought of before. It's kind of the inverse of a Docc Hilford idea, but I haven't seen anything quite like it. But it's more than possible it's not unique to me. 

So you've mailed a prediction to your friend's home days in advance. Told them not to tamper with it, etc. You have some way of inserting or switching the prediction on the day you're going to present this. Your prediction is in the form of a drawn version of the front page of your local newspaper.

I'll walk you through some scenarios on how it might go.

Let's say there's no tragedy on the front page that day. Thankfully most of the time that will be the case. In this example, the real headline in that day's paper is: Senate immigration bill suffers crushing defeat. The prediction you load into the envelope looks like this:

Your friend unfolds the prediction and is like, "Nope. You're wrong. Oh, you got the senate thing. But this fire didn't happen."

And you bow your head a little. "No... it didn't. Thank god. Thank god they listened to me. I just wish more people would listen."

You see? You're introducing a tragedy into the prediction and then acting as if you had some part in making it not happen.

And just when your friend is thinking, "Oh, this is a joke, I see," they remember that part of the prediction they've been holding onto all week actually is dead on. The fiction and reality become swirled together. 

But what if there was a real tragedy that day? What if six people did die in a house fire? Well, then you just up the tragedy in your prediction.

If the real headline is: Six dead, two injured in house fire.

Your prediction is: 46 dead, 8 missing as house fire spreads through neighborhood

A tear falls from your eye: "I did what I could. I just wish it could have been more."

If there's a murder or deadly accident, here's how you reframe it.

If the real headline is: Town Councilman, Jerry Peterson, found dead in a hit and run

Your prediction is: Town Councilman, Jerry Peterson, opens fire at the mall killing 16

"I did what I had to do," you say, shaking your head.

But Andy, it's crass to use tragedy as part of some trick you're performing.

First, have some perspective. You're a dot on a dot. 

Second, you're not performing this for a big audience (unless you just don't give a fuck, in which case yours is a show I want to see). You're performing it casually for friends. You're going to know if Jerry Peterson is their uncle or something. If you think it's bad karmically or something, then try to find his favorite charity and donate money to it. Or just think to yourself, if you were dead, would you really have an issue with someone using your death to bring some joy or mystery to someone else's life in a way that wouldn't affect anyone who knew and loved you? If you would, you need to chill out.

Third, it's really not an issue because the vast majority of the time you will not be embellishing a tragedy, just making one up out of thin air. 

Ok, b-b-b-b-but what if something really awful happens? Like a national tragedy. Like 9/11.

If that happened I wouldn't switch the prediction at all. I'd let her open the envelope and reveal the actual prediction I wrote and sealed in the envelope which says:

Pony rescues puppy from river.

Then I would look at her and say, "Fuck. I'm terrible at this."

Tomorrow: Spectator Cuts the Aces, Kind Of

Presentation Week Part 2: The Jerx Patter Algorithm

Four incidents that shaped my style of patter and presentation:

1. 10 years ago, my friend in NYC floated a dollar bill for an appreciative group of spectators. When he was done I asked him, "What do you think they're thinking? Do any of them not know it's just suspended from something that's too small to see?" I wasn't asking to be a dick. I was genuinely curious. And so was he. So we put an ad up on Craigslist and paid 10 people to come to a rehearsal studio to show them live magic and performances of magic on video. After watching the floating bill trick we asked for their thoughts, and they all politely answered that they didn't know how it was done. Then we said that we would double what we were paying them if they could guess how it was done and they all said, "I guess it's hanging on a string that's too small to see?" Nothing gives you greater insight into how people really view your performance than paying them. 

As the years have gone on I've conducted dozens more of these "focus groups." Mostly for the benefit of other performers, but I always include some of my own ideas to test as well. And one of the things I tested over and over was how patter affects people's perception of a trick. My theory at that time (and it certainly wasn't unique to me) was that it just gets in the way of connecting with a spectator. During one of these sessions I was discussing an effect with one of the people we brought in and I was asking him what he disliked about the presentation and he said, "Well, the story was obviously fake. Which was fine. But then there was no excuse for how boring it was." And he was right.

You want to know what's not an interesting story? "Some guy shuffled my cards face up and face down when I wasn't looking!" That is not a story you would ever tell in real life without accompanying it with Triumph. So stop telling it. No one believes that story anyways. So now you're telling a boring story just so you can show them this card trick. It's like performing a boring play just to show off your set design or lighting skills. It's desperate.

2. I noticed that every time I performed Paul Harris' Invisible Palm routine, people would end up examining my palm and their palm. Even though the presentation is ludicrous and obviously horse-shit (that I'm absorbing the cards into the palm of my hand) the routine is so powerful that they almost have to fight with their own brain not to believe it because they have no other explanation to latch onto. How far can we push this, I wondered. How insane an idea can we get them to almost believe?

3. This is a non-magical story (at least not in our sense of the word magical). One time I dated this girl who was visiting NYC for the summer from France. She was a student; auburn-haired; and had the most insane collection of delicate, intricate, sexy undergarments she acquired from working at a lingerie shop in Paris. That has nothing to do with the story. I'm just enjoying the memory. She was a vision and it was the perfect summer romance, except things got very serious, very quickly. At one point she called it off. We were spending almost every day together and setting ourselves up for heartbreak, plus she wasn't really experiencing the city in the way she had planned, she was just spending all her time with some guy. I understood. But a few nights later I was desperate to see her and I headed over to the apartment she was staying at. I knocked on the door and immediately realized I had no idea what I was going to say. And in the 12 seconds it took for her to get to the door I weighed what I assumed were my two options:

Option A) I could be honest. "I just wanted to see you. I know it's maybe not a great idea and I promised I'd give you space..." etc. etc. 

Option B) I could come up with some reasonable justification for being there. Tell her I think my library card fell out of my pocket the last time I was here and could I check behind her bed or whatever. 

She came to the door. "What are you doing here?" she asked. Her guard was up, as I knew it would be. I panicked and went with an unknown "option C." 

"Huh?... Oh, this is embarrassing," I said. "I must have sleepwalked to your apartment. Can I get a glass of water?"

"You sleepwalked onto the subway?" she said, unconvinced.

"Hmmm... I mean, I'm not wet, so I must not have swam across the river. So I guess.... How about that glass of water?"

She slipped a finger into the waistband of my jeans and pulled me into her apartment.

The next night I knocked on her door again.

"Oh wow. I didn't even realize this was your place. I hate to be a bother, but did you see a ferret come in here? Mine got out of my apartment and I've been chasing it all over town and I thought I saw it slip in here. Did you see him? He's wearing a little cape, if that helps."

"But you do not have ownership of a ferret," she said in her French-accented, cutely-awkward, but probably technically perfect English.

"Yes. Well, no, not now I don't. I got him this morning, but he ran off after the cape fitting. I could have sworn I saw him duck in here."

"You better have a look," she said, opening the door wide.

I stepped inside. "Kurt? Kuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrtttttttttttttt!?"

The next night I showed up with a piece of paper in my hand. It read Free Cake with her address underneath. "These are hung up all over the neighborhood," I said. "Is this some kind of prank? If so I'll help you take them down. If not I thought I'd help you bake."

Later that night we were in her bed on the verge of sleep. "Come to me tomorrow," she said, kissing me. "I want to hear your excuse."

As I lay there I thought, I may be wrong. But I don't think it's just young, french girls who appreciate this kind of nonsense. I think a variation on it could work with anyone; young, old, male, female, of any culture. The world wants to be charmed.

4. For years I had performed The Perfectionist by Paul Harris. In it you shuffle red cards into black cards, but then they're immediately separate. Then you shuffle red into red and black into black, yet somehow the colors end up completely mixed together. It's a little hard to explain, but track it down, it's good. It's impromptu and there is a great display at the end where the deck is spread face up in two distinct piles, all the red cards on one side, all the black cards on the other and with no real moves at all the piles are shown to be a shuffled mess. I always loved performing it and it was always amazing to people.

One day I realized that almost 80% of the time I show someone a card trick, they give me the perfect lead in line to this effect. I ask them to shuffle the cards and they do some thing where they take half the deck in each hand and kind of jam them together. "Sorry," they say, "I can't shuffle."

"That gypsy cursed you too, huh?"

They look at me like, what?

"Yeah, that happened to me as well. I was walking down the street, through the intersection. I wasn't paying attention because I was concentrating on my deck of cards and I bumped into that wrinkled old gypsy. Hit her pretty hard I guess. She was super pissed. Grabbed my wrist with one hand and waved the other hand in front of my eyes and said, 'Nunca Shuffle-atore.' And now I can't shuffle. That happened to you too? What? Oh... you just never learned to shuffle. I see. Well, you're actually lucky. Let me show you what I'm talking about."

Then I show them how I "can't shuffle" because when I shuffle the red and black cards together they separate. The only way I've gotten around the curse is to not shuffle the cards in order to get them to shuffle, i.e. the red and black cards completely mix together after clearly being shown separate.

And while it's hard to gauge these things it felt like the interest and engagement of the people I was performing this for went up a huge amount. One thing I can quantify is that while no one ever said, "Hey, show him the one where the red and black cards separate and then magically go back together." I have had multiple people say, "Hey, show him how the gypsy cursed you so you can't shuffle."

You see where this is going, right? I'm saying up the bullshit, and make it entertaining. Don't say it tongue in cheek, play it completely straight. You don't need to do it with a wink because what you're saying should be so incredible that it's obvious you don't intend to be taken seriously. 

Create a bizarre, off-kilter world and then use your effects to allow the spectators a peek into that world, or some evidence of that world. I'm not trying to get you to do anything different. You're already creating worlds. You're just creating boring ones where you can tell what hand someone is holding something in by their body language, or where aces change places with jacks for some reason.

Here is my style, condensed into a set of rules:

The Jerx Patter Algorithm:

• Your script should be interesting enough to stand on its own.
• Your effect should be even better than the patter.
• If the patter isn't interesting enough to stand on its own, then drop it.
• If the trick isn't better than the script, then drop the trick, just tell the story.

Of course to go this route you need to become better at coming up with ideas and creating stories, and that doesn't interest a lot of people, I know. But that is what captures people and it's what they remember. I've performed a lot of magic for a lot of different people. And people used to try and pimp me out by saying, "Hey, show my friend a trick." But I hardly ever get that anymore. Now it's people saying, "Show them how you have your great-uncle's polaroids of things that haven't happened yet." Or, "Do the one where you pause time." Or, "Tell them how you got kicked out of your religious education class as a kid." And that's actually a true story where I did a one-coin style routine with the eucharist.

Tomorrow's post will contain some more thoughts on this and also the greatest presentation for a headline prediction ever.

Presentation Week Part 1: Laying the Groundwork

[This week I've decided I want to write about presentation. The audience for these thoughts can be categorized as "very small" and "probably not you." Come back next week for the usual fat jokes and such. In the meantime, Craig Petty just linked to a new "web show" on the Magic Cafe with a threat in the title that it is "Season 1 Episode 1." That's probably more your speed.]

I'm more comfortable talking shit about the Magic Cafe or making fun of some stooge magician than I am talking about my actual thoughts on magic, effects, presentations, etc. There are a number of reasons for this, but the main one is I just don't think there's much of an audience for it. I am not interested in performing stage magic, or restaurant magic, or street magic -- or those types of performances, which seems to be what people want to read when it comes to performance theory. I'm pretty much only interested in magic that is performed in casual situations for a handful of people at most. Preferably one-on-one. And for those situations, 98% of the theory you read in magic books is wrong or at least not applicable.

I wrote a book called The Amateur At the Kitchen Table a few years ago. I wrote it for the purpose of clarifying my own thoughts. It was my philosophy on the performance of informal magic that was illustrated through a couple dozen presentations. I had thought about publishing it at one point but then I got selfish. You see, I actually like that so many of you are so bad at performing for people. I think it's great that some of the people we consider the best in our field are completely off-putting and have no appeal to real humans. We like them because they're clever or dexterous, but they have no concept of how to channel that in a way that people like. The last thing I want is for people to get better at something I believe sets me apart. So I shelved the idea of publishing the book (although I did sell two copies for an exorbitant price I couldn't refuse.)

"Who are you to give advice? Why should I listen to you?"

I couldn't give less of a shit if you do. Really. Keep doing what you're doing. 

Most of the advice on showing magic to people is predicated on a professional performance, which is great if you're at the Magic Castle, but you're not at the Magic Castle and shouldn't be acting like you are. Performing like that has a distancing effect between you and the people you're trying to engage. It's analogous to being funny. A witty guy at a party will win friends and get laid. But if you stand up and start reciting jokes you memorized from a joke book, people will be like, "What a weirdo." Even if they're laughing at the jokes.

The goal is -- in a non-corny way -- to make the effect of magic as much a part of your being as the effect of humor is for the funny person. And I'll talk more about how I think you can do this as the week goes on.

"So we should try to project an image of possessing true magic or mentalism abilities?"

No. Fuck no. If you want people to think what you're doing is real, you're a sociopath. Seriously, I think that's a pathetic mental disorder and I feel bad for you and worse for the people you perform for. And it's a poisonous attitude that has held back magic for centuries. If coming off as "real" is a priority for you, then what you're saying is, "I want to dupe dumb people and look ridiculous to smart people."

My goal is never to have them believe. My goal is to have them intrigued and enraptured and swept up in the moment, despite knowing it's not real. 

What makes a trompe-l'œil painting engaging is that it seems so real, even though we know it's not. I strive to perform trompe-l'œil of the fantastic. And what I've found is when people don't have their defenses up against your phony bullshit of trying to come off as "real," it becomes much easier to create feelings of amazement, joy, fear, lust, nostalgia, and poignancy that are real.

Tomorrow: The Jerx Patter Algorithm

Try To Keep Up, Ya Stupids

I get a number of emails asking me to explain things about this site or my posts. For this one time I will address them. But that's not going to happen going forward, so step it up. If you don't get the references (pop culture or magic), inside jokes with people who have emailed me, jokes that are based on a thought I once had and never shared with anybody, callbacks to jokes I made 10 years ago on a site that you probably didn't read back then and has since been deleted and now can only partially be read on the internet archive, then tough. This site is like MST3K in that way. You're not meant to get everything. 

But for one time only, I will educate the children and the dummies. (Smarties, I'll see you tomorrow.)

• The site is called The Jerx because I ran a site called The Magic Circle Jerk and because of a famous magic/mentalism magazine called The Jinx that was produced by Theodore Annemann. Believe it or not, there are a not-negligible amount of people who didn't get that. I was going to name the site Annemann's Oven, with the sub-heading "See What's Cooking In Annemann's Oven," because I heard he killed himself by sucking in the gas from his oven. But Annemann is too hard to spell, and it didn't quite show the level of respect I have for him which is genuinely enormous. He is probably one of my top three favorite people in the history of this art.
• The site artwork is a reference to the Jinx as well.
• The "Pop!" post was simply a corollary to the "Poof!" post on MCJ. What you thought was a vanish was actually a transposition/transformation. 10 years ago it went poof, and now it pops back into existence.
• On the mysextutor.com site, the second video is a bunch of revelations for traditional mentalism forces:
  1. The 37 force
  2. The triangle/circle force
  3. The 1089 force
  4. The grey elephant in Denmark force
• Californium 252 is a radioactive metallic chemical that cost $27 million per gram and only 8 grams have ever been produced.
• An Orgone Box is a box that captures the healing power of orgasms and cures cancer or something.
• "Fisting" is the act of putting your fist into someone's vagina or asshole. 
• To "86" something in the restaurant world means to stop selling something/take it off the menu (usually just for the evening).
• MST3K is Mystery Science Theater 3000, a show about a guy in space who makes fun of movies with robots he built. There are a lot logic and plot holes in the conceit of the show that you should really just chill out about.
• That last bullet-point was a reference to the the theme song to Mystery Science Theater 3000.

86 the Chef's Special

What the hell happened to the Guest of Honor/Chef's Special area of the Cafe? I have not been paying attention, and apparently no one else has either because that place is a desolate wasteland. Remember when they had Derren Brown and David Williamson and people like that? This was back in 2003-2005 when I was keeping that place relevant with MCJ. Well, Brooksy, I apologize. I'm going to do what I can to inject some life into your site, but it might be too far gone now. Seriously, the slide in quality is stunning. I can't even think of something analogous. It would be as if you ran a site devoted to super heroes and one year you're interviewing Batman and Captain America, then 5 years later you're interviewing The Wonder Twins in the form of a bucket of water and a raccoon, and then 5 years after that you're interviewing an actual bucket of water and a raccoon.

Steve, you know nothing is stopping you from just canning that section right? Put it out of it's misery. Actually, make me the Guest of Honor for a week, and then put it down.

The best thing to almost happen during one of these Chef Special weeks was when Tyler Wilson was the guest in 2010. Below is a transcript of emails between Tyler and I as we planned a revelation that never came to be.

June 28th, 2010 - Tyler Wilson to MCJ

'Sup, sexy?

I have officially sold what was left of my atheist soul by agreeing to be the special guest on the Cafe. Yes, you read that right. I won't make excuses; I just released a book and now I need to sell a shitload of them. But none of that changes the fact that I will gladly shit on the hand that feeds me.

Soooooo...

Any ideas for how I can spice up the week a little bit? I don't mind being the first V.I.P. to not make it the full week before getting kicked off.

July 6th, 2010 - MCJ to Tyler Wilson

Hey there babydoll.

What a surprise. I was just at the Cafe and saw that you were going to be the “Chef Special for July.” I came here to bust your balls and I see that you have made a pre-emptive defense. But there is no need. I think it’s perfectly reasonable to utilize the café to shill your stuff. That place isn’t nearly as annoying as it was when I started my site 7(holy fuck) years ago. Or at least Steve Brooks is less-so because he’s not as visible (except from space – bing bong FAT JOKES!). But there’s still enough other screwballs on that site. 

I'll try to come up with some shenanigans for your tenure there, but I’m out of practice. I wonder if Brooks knows you used a quote from my site on the book-jacket of your first book? Well, David Regal uses my review on his site and he seems to be welcome there. So you should be fine.

 Good luck with the book. I will be ordering my copy soon.

July 21st, 2010 - Tyler Wilson to MCJ

Hey You,
If you want to see your name on the Cafe and a mild attack on their do-no-wrong poster boy, Scott Guinn, check out these threads before they're gone:

http://www.themagiccafe.com/forums/viewtopic.php?topic=372710&forum=285&5&start=0#4

http://www.themagiccafe.com/forums/viewtopic.php?topic=372920&forum=285&5

They're subtle, but I can see town from here, and I'm more than willing to go to it.

July 21st, 2010 - MCJ to Tyler Wilson

Nice. I think maybe it's time for you to make a post where you confess to being the author of the Magic Circle Jerk blog. I mean, if you really want to get the boot before you go. You can go on and on about how terrible you feel and make it super apologetic and full of shit like, "I was young and thought that stuff was funny and I was trying to get people to like me." Then write something like, "Perhaps the worst thing I did in my time writing that hateful blog was hold a contest where I encouraged people to write erotic fan fiction about the staff of the Magic Cafe in exchange for a set of Todd Lassen gimmicked coins that he had donated. Just so you have some idea how awful that blog was, here was one of the submissions," And then I'll find the most vile of the submissions and you can post it there, or link to it somewhere.

July 21st, 2010 - Tyler Wilson to MCJ

Hey Cutie,

Let's do it up!

I hope you realize I'm going to have a LOT of explaining to do! Not to the Cafe, I couldn't give two shits. But to my friends. I have been accused of being the MCJ on numerous occasions. When I point out that you are a) funny as fuck, and b) disturbingly brilliant, they quickly realize that it couldn't be me. So I might as well start writing a form email letter right now.

I'm out of my house right now, so I wouldn't be able to post it until I get home later tonight, so as long as they haven't closed the forums by then (today's the last day), I'll put it up right away.

Shit, I can't wait to see how this whole thing turns out!

Thanks, whoever the fuck you are.

[Ed. Note: At that point I sent Tyler a copy of the story Ipecac by Jason Wethington about a Cafe staff gangbang.]

July 22nd, 2010 - Tyler Wilson to MCJ

Oh man, I am so choked. They closed the forums down super early yesterday. I got home at 10:00pm, but they had locked them down hours earlier. Fuck! I was soooooo looking forward to dropping that bomb all night long. I was fuckin' ancy, and I don't get ancy. [Ed. Note: I think this dumb-dumb meant "antsy."]

Man, I'm so sorry all of that was for nothing. I missed my shot. I hope Jason's erotica will one day see publication (the next Twilight?!), but until then, I let it slip through my fingers.

You deserve better. I'm going to go pull a Hutchence/Carradine.

__________________________________________________

So, sadly that never came to pass. But if it had I may not have started up this site again. Especially if Brooksy didn't delete Tyler's revelation. I would have let that be the end of the story. 

So all's for the best in this best of all possible worlds.

Free Magic Giveaway - EVP by Alan Rorrison

Good news:

One of the mainstays of the old Magic Circle Jerk site was giving away magic. I would buy prizes, friends would give me things, magicians, dealers, and artists like Todd Lassen would donate goods for me to give away to lucky readers for winning dumb contests like guessing how much Doug Conn weighs or writing the most disturbing Magic Cafe related erotic fiction. Good wholesome fun for the whole family. 

Well, a friend of the Jerx has donated a brand new, unopened EVP by Alan Rorrison that I am going to give away. If you don't know about EVP, here you go. I think it's a genuinely freaky effect. I'm not sure I would ever perform it, because aren't ghosts super spooky? I'm not sure if I've mentioned that, but I get all scurred when the subject of ghosts come up. They're our dead relatives guys!!! Not something to be the subject of fun magic! So here is how I would probably use this gimmick. I'm pretty sure it can be used this way, but I don't own it so I don't really know. (Scroll down to where it says "Better News" if you just want to know how to win.)

(For this effect and for future reference, all my performance ideas, unless otherwise noted, take place in a casual situation, ideally one-on-one, on a couch, with a female (or whatever you're into), pre-coitus.)

• Have her think of something and then reveal it using whatever method you like.
• Say, "Can I tell you a secret? Look, you can't mention this to anyone because it's kind of the foundation of mindreading. I didn't read your mind just then. You read mine. I'm serious. When you thought of the candle, you did it because I sent that thought to your mind and you picked up on. This is how almost all of these types of tricks work. It's nearly impossible to pull a thought from someone's mind because we spend almost every waking moment guarding those thoughts and only letting specific ones out to the world by what we say or do. But at the same time, you're constantly trying to pick up on what other people are thinking. You're scanning everything to try and find out what's really going on behind the eyes of your friends, bosses, lovers, etc. So it's much easier for me to give you something you want rather than take something from you that your natural inclination is to hide. So I send you the thought, 'think of the candle.' You pick up on that and end up thinking of that. Then I tell you what you're thinking... the thought I told you to think. Simple! The only mindreading going on was all done by you. It's actually pretty easy once you get good at being open with your thoughts. That's the hard part on my end; letting down my guard."
• "But at this point I'm pretty good at it. Especially because we're both here together, in the same room, we can see each other's faces, touch each other, easily hear the tone of each other's voices. And it doesn't hurt that you're naturally so smart and perceptive. That makes it relatively simple to send you my thoughts. What I'm working on now is trying to do it with someone who's not here. And that's next to impossible. Do you want to try it?"
• Ask her to bring out her phone and pick one of her contacts. Tell her to choose someone she thinks might be good for this. Maybe a relative or a close-friend.
• Now force something on your spectator (whatever you're set up to reveal via EVP). Or don't force it. Just pull a ceramic turtle off a bookshelf or something. "This is the thought I'll try and send her." 
• You use your spectator's phone to call her friend. And you have your spectator film this whole thing on your phone.
• You and your spectator explain what's going on to her friend. You say, "Okay, Suzanne, in a moment I'm going to try and send you a thought. Just try and remember anything you hear. It might sound garbled or might sound a little faint like it's just in the back of your head somewhere. But just be open and try and hear it."
• You sit there silently for a few moments.
• "Yeah, I don't have a great feeling about this. Suzanne, do you know what we're thinking of here?"
• Suzanne says, "It's a turtle."
• Your friend freaks the fuck out and asks Suzanne how she knew that. 
• Suzanne says, "What do you mean? I heard him say, 'It's a turtle.'" Your friend says, "He never said that. I swear." Suzanne doesn't believe it. So you say goodbye to Suzanne and have your friend send her the video she's been taking from your phone.
• Your friend's mind is blown. Perhaps half-way across the country Suzanne is now getting the video on her phone that shows the conversation and shows you sitting with your eyes and mouth closed at the exact moment she would have sworn you had said, "It's a turtle." Her mind is now blown too.
• You've made a great impression on your friend and someone very close to her.
• Coitus.

Better News

My grandma is deathly ill and I've been given power of attorney over her finances. This old bag is loaded, and I just cleared out her account. 28 million dollars. Finally... FINALLY... I have the money I need to produce my magnum opus: The Magic Cafe: The Movie. It's going to be amazing. It's going to document the formative years of the cafe. I have got some inside dirt on it, and it's just the most amazing story. It's all drugs and violence and fucking and sucking -- every sick twisted thing you can imagine. Not only that but I'm investing a ton of money into a smell-o-vision technology for the film. Whenever Steve Brooks is fucking on screen (and in my first draft this happens 16 times), the theater will be infused with what an insider has told me is a true-to-life scent for this scenario. (We're mimicking it by pumping in the smell from a vat of rotten Moo-Shu Pork.)

Here's where I need your help, and here's how you win the EVP. I'd like your thoughts on casting. Here is the Cafe staff circa 2003. These are the roles we need to cast. So what I need from you is to suggest what actors should play those roles. Send your casting suggestions to me in an email. You can make a suggestion for one staff member or for all of them. I will be taking submissions until June 10th. If I use one of your suggestions you will receive an entry to win the EVP. So the more suggestions you make, the better chance you have. I am not limiting this to well-known actors, but if you have an unknown, make sure you link me to his IMDB page or something so I know who you're talking about.

Have fun.