Equestrian Singles

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This was a helpful exercise for me in determining the type of magic I wanted to perform (and in other areas of my life as well). If you're a bit adrift in identifying your focus as a performer, this may be helpful for you as well.

Let's say I ran a matchmaking service (something more one-on-one than my dating service Equestrian Singles). Perhaps I would ask you to give me a list of women you find attractive and would like to date. I might also ask for a list of women you find unattractive and wouldn't want to date. Those would both be useful lists. But I think the most helpful list in identifying a direction to move in would be a list of women you find attractive that you wouldn't want to date. This would help me identify the deal-breakers and the qualities those women had in common that were somehow more significant than your innate attraction to them. 

I asked myself a similar question regarding magic: What magicians do I want to fuck?

No, that wasn't the question I asked myself. It was, "Who are the magicians you like watching, and who you think are good performers, but whose style of performance you're not drawn to?"

This first time you ask yourself this question it's obvious and easy. I think of David Copperfield and Penn and Teller and other stage performers. I like their work, but have no interest in performing in that style.

Now I ask myself the question again, but narrow it down by adding in the details of who was included after my the first round. (Stage performers were excluded, close-up performers were included.) So now the question is:  Who are the close-up magicians I enjoy watching but wouldn't want to perform in their style myself? 

That knocks out a lot of funny and talented performers—in fact, some of my favorite performers. What do they all have in common? They all perform in a highly-scripted, very "professional" manner. That style doesn't interest me. I prefer an unscripted, more natural, casual style.

So I ask it again, but with this new information incorporated. Who are the natural, casual close-up performers I like and who I enjoy watching, but whose style I wouldn't want to mimic in my performances? And the answer to that question for me was people like Dani DaOrtiz, Greg Wilson, and Peter Turner. I like to watch those guys, I think they're talented, and I enjoy their creations. But I wouldn't want to perform in their styles. Why not? What do they have in common?

For me what they all have in common is that their styles are very intense and forceful and almost domineering in a way. Not in a bad way, but just in a way that a lot of their material depends on a quick and animated manipulation of the spectators.

When Dani DaOrtiz forces a card he deals off clumps and spits out words like, "You tell me where to stop. I don't care. Right here? I don't care. You tell me. Ya-dah-dat-dat-dahh. Here? There? Keep going? Stop? You tell me. I no care... I no care."

When Peter Turner is revealing a digit from a cell phone passcode, a verbal stream comes pouring out. "I see you keep people at arms reach. Have two genuine friends, a lot of acquaintances. Just fell out with a friend over the phone a couple of days ago. Which is something you've told no one. It's the number 8." He says all of this in 7 seconds.

When Greg Wilson performs he grabs people by the wrist and shoulder, directs them to where he wants them to be and where he wants them to look. "Stand over here. Look at the pen, look at the coin, look behind my ear." Etc.

Dani is trying to use the pace of his delivery to get you to say stop at a certain point. Peter is trying to get in a lot of vague information along with something he knows is accurate, so when the spectator says "yes" to the number 8, it seems like she's saying yes to what came before as well. Greg is trying to get you used to him being physical with you so he can steal your watch or wallet. 

These are all valid techniques but they don't mesh with my preferred style which is beyond relaxed and low-key.

I just don't like anything that feels like me manipulating someone in any way: verbally, psychologically, or physically. You can see that throughout my work. In the JAMM #1, I describe a way to hand someone a bent coin (or any other changed object) without them noticing because I don't even like folding someone's fingers over a coin I place in their hand. 3rd Wave Equivoque and The Reverse Psychology Force were developed as ways to take the pacing of those classic techniques out of the performer's hands and into the spectator's. 

My ideal performance dynamic is me curled up on the other end of the couch as you walk though the effect yourself without my apparent manipulation. And what pushed me in that direction was not watching performers I dislike, but watching performers I liked and seeing the things they did that didn't resonate with me. There isn't a ton to learn by watching people whose work you the. And there's probably a limit to what you can get out of emulating the people you love. But there's definitely something to be gained by watching people whose work you respect and admire, and then being propelled by the areas where your ideologies differ.

Caster of Worthless Spells

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Hmm... maybe I should have splashed ink on all the copies of JV1 because the final four "imperfect" test copies all sold over the weekend. 

There is one copy left. It costs $38,001, but shipping is free!

Coming in The JAMM #2

Caster of Worthless Spells

It starts as a word game which you lose in spectacular fashion.

"I think I'm better at the advanced version you say."

You play the advanced version and lose again.

"Well... maybe this wasn't about the game at all. You see before we played I made a prediction on what would happen."

You pull a business card out of your wallet. On the back is written:

I Will Win Both Games

"Dammit!" you say. [If I'm performing for another magician I'll mumble, "I think I was supposed to have you read that."]

Finally your spectator reaches into their own pocket to find one final prediction that's inaccurate in the most incredible way possible.

Previously, I offered my presentational variation on the work of John Bannon and Simon Aronson's work, creating the most impressive least impressive prediction (In JV1 as Meta-Bored).

Now I team up with Bannon again to teach (with his permission) my head-to-toe redressing of one of my favorite effects of his, creating the most impressive completely inaccurate prediction: Caster of Worthless Spells. It's 12 minutes of interactive, engaging and funny presentation with an amazing conclusion. It's completely practical, uses items you have on hand or can buy from the dollar store, packs flat and plays big.

It packs flatter and plays even bigger than a game of Body Boggle.

Remember, while we wait for our wealthy benefactor or my MacArthur Genius Grant to arrive, it's your support that keeps this site here. Join the good guys and subscribe to The JAMM. Issue #2 arrives this coming Monday.

Immersion

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I received two emails from readers with similar concerns/issues.

The first was from someone who performed Rest in Pieces (The Puzzle Master took out Richard Hatch).

Ultimately he felt his friend loved the experience but there were moments where things got almost too weird. In his email he wrote:

"I also wanted to ask what your method, or way was of ending an experience like that. Where they may take it too far or you aren't sure about how they will react afterwards."

A few days later I received an email from another reader who had performed Whitman's Algorithm for his boyfriend and he wrote:

"It went well but it was also sort of weird, which I figure is from the presentation changes I made. Instead of giving the sort of loose, "i found it on the internet" kind of explanation, I told him the grid sheet and the cards had been given out with the box of chocolates, as a sort of promotion, at the chocolate shop down the road from our apartment. 

Also, instead of using the algorithm to locate his chocolate twice, I ended up using it to locate both of our favourite flavors - something I had prepared for, and which he insisted on in the moment. 

What struck me was how much he bought into it. He was thrilled by the experience, in a way he usually isn't quite with magic, which was great. At the same time, though, he was immediately talking about how we would need to visit the chocolate shop and tell them their algorithm had worked perfectly, and it was incredible, and so on. 

It wasn't what I expected. Frankly, I assumed he would guess I was behind it, but he was so convinced of the apparent legitimacy of the process that I felt I had to confess my role. It did feel a lot more like a prank than I'm used to. "

I understand both their concerns, but I don't really have an answer because it's not an issue I face. As I've stated before here: At no point before or after the effect do I want them to believe in the fiction of whatever I'm showing them.

As I wrote in June 2015

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.

I'm not suggesting everyone adopt this style. I'm just saying this is my style. So questions of how I handle someone investing too much in the reality of the effect are not something I have much expertise in, because that's not the type of interaction I have with people. No one believes a goddamn word I say and that's how I like it. I don't want people to believe. But more importantly I don't want people to think I want them to believe. 

But how does this jibe with the idea of performing "immersive" effects? Isn't one of your styles, The Romantic Adventure, about immersing someone in a new reality?

Not really. But let me get back to that. 

I've been thinking a lot about "Immersive Magic." I've often said my interest is in amateur magic, and that's true, but that's primarily because my real interest is in immersive magic and that requires an amount of time or level of interaction that you just don't really have in professional performances. 

There isn't a real sold definition for immersive magic. It's not a branch of magic I invented—effects such as these already existed—I've just categorized them together as a distinct subset of effects. I think there's a chance that some day this will be an area of magic that others recognize as well. Maybe it will even get its own section on the Cafe. (A boy can dream.)

I would say that if an effect requires a significant investment of time, input, or concentration from the spectator, it is probably on the immersive spectrum. 

I will often apply this question to an effect to see if it's an immersive style of effect:

Can you do it for a tree stump?

If the answer is "yes" then it's not an immersive effect. And it's generally not the sort of thing I find the people I perform for enjoy the most. They feel the least connected to stuff that doesn't require their actual input or presence. I guess that should be pretty obvious.

"Ah, but I need people to hold coins and sign cards. So no, I could not perform my material for a tree stump."

Sorry, but if you can perform it for a corpse or a monkey who can pick a card or sign its name, it's also not an immersive effect. It's just a standard close-up effect. (Which isn't bad, just not the style we're talking about here.)

If someone were to write out the story of a performance of an immersive effect, the spectator would play a key role that couldn't be played by a tree stump, a corpse, or a smart monkey. 

Most mentalism, by its nature, is partly immersive. Although most mentalists, by their nature, make this as bland and inconsequential as possible. "Name a random three digit number."

If you vanish a coin, that is a standard close-up effect. It can be a great, beautiful effect, but I've found there is a ceiling on the response a coin vanish can garner. This is, in my opinion, because it's not immersive. It's superficial. I don't mean that as a judgment on the effect, I just mean that in regards to the spectator's involvement. The spectator doesn't need to be there. They could watch a 50-year old video of the trick and have the same experience.

On the other hand, maybe you're hung up on an ex and having trouble moving on. I say, "Ah, I have an idea. Is there any way you can get your hands on, like, a coin or something they've handled?" And now you're dropping by your ex's place, making some excuse about how you think you left your comb in his bedroom and could you take a quick look? And under that ruse you're stealing a quarter off his dresser which you bring to me. "This is an old Navajo ceremony. I have no clue if it will work." We sign his name on both sides of the quarter. This is a totem of his presence in your mind. I have you read a little incantation. And then the quarter disappears. "You'll find yourself thinking of him less and less from this moment forward," I tell you.

If you write the story of the first effect, your role as spectator could be played by that tree stump. 

In the story of the second presentation, your role is as big or bigger than mine.

I would never go steal a quarter from my ex's house so I could take part in some goofy magic trick.

Yes, I know you wouldn't. But I also know others would, because I've done an identical presentation with a different trick twice. If you don't think this gives a 2-second vanish a kind of relevancy that it doesn't normally have, then you're oblivious to the types of things that reverberate with people. 

Not that "immersive" always means long and drawn-out. It can often just amount to giving the person you're performing for a role other than just "spectator." 

If a spectator's "immersion" or "experience" matter to you then, by definition, they can't see their role as just "spectator" because that's almost always a passive role. 

But this brings us back to the beginning because how do I reconcile this intensity of presentation with the idea that I don't want you to believe in the reality of what I'm presenting? Why would anyone bother playing along with something that is ultimately just for fun? Well, because people like having fun. And if you've developed a reputation as someone who will curate moments of mystery and surprise for people, you will find people who want to play along. Of course not everyone will be into it, but you just don't bother with the people who aren't.

As an amateur performer you build the relationship between you, your friends, and magic on a case by case basis. The same way you would if your hobby was playing basketball. "These are people who are up for a game any time I call. These people I have a regularly scheduled game with. These people will play occasionally. And these are people I don't play basketball with but we're still friends." This is a very easy concept to grasp when we're talking about something other than magic.

If you change your style of performance, there will be hiccups along the way when you and the people you perform for aren't on the same wavelength. But these will happen less and less as you become more comfortable and the people you perform for understand better what to expect.

The thing to remember about the immersive presentation is that it's a style that allows people to buy into things as they play out in the moment. But it's not meant to change their understanding of what's happening in reality.

Imagine you really like being scared. Every Halloween you drive two hours to this farm in rural Pennsylvania that puts on the greatest haunted house. You drive out knowing it's fake, you pay your money knowing it's fake, and you leave knowing it's fake. You invest all this time and energy in something you know isn't real. And yet... what makes this the greatest haunted house is that from the moment you step inside it feels real. You never see a zipper on the back of someone's costume. You never catch a zombie chatting on his cell phone. The place smells rotten. And when you get turned around and lose your group for a moment and you find yourself all alone and a shadowy figure starts slowly approaching, you are genuinely terrified. 

There are people in the world who have a love for a genuine feeling of mystery and surprise and don't even know that magic can scratch that itch because the two most common ways magic is performed wont satisfy that urge.

The first way is to suggest: "I'm a powerful being with special powers!" That's a claim that just demands to be challenged and debunked, not entertained in any way.

The second way—the most common way—is to present it as a total goof that you could never get caught up in. 

  • "The jack of spades is embarrassed so he turned red!"
  • "I'm going to sprinkle some woofle dust on this."
  • "Press the 'button' on the back of the deck. That makes the card rise to the top."

That's all childish horse-shit that involves the least amount of effort and creativity on your part. You can't elicit true amazement because you're not creating the circumstances that feeling could thrive in. 

Think back to the haunted house analogy, because it's very applicable to what we do. The people behind the haunted house want to create genuine terror from something everyone agrees going in is fake. And they can do that because during the experience nothing rings false. This is what immersive magic is designed to be. To give them an experience where the unbelievable is presented as if it were real and to create genuine awe from fake magic.

Gardyloo #19

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The final copy of The Jerx, Volume One is available for $38,001.

That's because the most expensive magic book I could find was this 1st edition of the Discoverie of Witchcraft which sold for $38,000.

Now, my book is 100 times better than that hunk of turd, and it is with great modesty that I make my final copy available for just 1 dollar more. 

Does that make me a hero? No... I'm just a man. 

If you really want a copy of the book and can't afford that price, there are a few "imperfect" test versions available at the "Buy the Book" link in the main menu. Once those are gone, that's that.

Crazy Idea I've Been Researching This Week: I'm looking to see if it's possible to get a tattoo that is done, in part, with something similar to the ink in a Frixion pen. Then I could have a tattoo that morphed from one thing to another as it passed through a candle flame (or maybe just by generating some friction). Then "reset" with an ice cube.

Initial research is not looking promising. But that's okay because I have an even crazier tattoo concept I'm working on and just ordered some pig skin to test it out on.

The Customer Service Algorithm

I've been on a real Tenyo kick for the past few months after decades of only having the most casual interest in the brand/company. 

In celebration of a recent special occasion, a friend of mine got me a number of effects from Tenyo's newest releases. One of those tricks was Magic Maze. We opened the box to play around with it and found that it came with none of the cards that make up the effect. It just came with instructions and clothespins. 

When he tried to return the item to Penguin Magic, they said it was past the 45 day return policy and there was nothing they could do about it. 

My friend pointed out that it was a gift he bought early and he hadn't considered the idea he would need to open a Tenyo product to make sure the pieces were all there before giving it to someone as a gift.

Their response was that they "recommend[ed] purchasing the effect again."

I told him to tell them he has been a customer of theirs for almost 15 years, has spent 1000s of dollars there, and that he's not trying to rip them off over a $15 trick. But he didn't bother bringing that up. They'd already lost him. He switched his allegiances to another shop.

Now, I love Penguin. I will continue to shop there. I think they're a great company, they set the standard for an online magic shop, and they're constantly innovating. And I don't come here to wield my prodigious wang and say, "You need to make things right with my friend!" As I said, he's already moved on. He purchased the trick somewhere else. We're all set. 

I'm bringing this up because I want to offer a rule of thumb to magic dealers or any type of online merchants. When you're small you can be responsive and take care of your customers and it's very easy. But as you get larger you have to entrust others with your customer service, and these people give less of a shit if you look bad. Did the guy who was dealing with my friend care that he was suggesting my friend (actually me as I was the one who received the trick) be satisfied with a trick that came without the required props? Nah, fuck it, who cares? Does it make Penguin look bad? Yes. But it's not his company so he's not going to break a sweat.

Here is the rule of thumb that I helped implement when I was doing some consulting work with a couple non-magic online merchants. It's a win-win-win for everyone involved. It empowers employees, makes customers happy, and brings in more business for the owners. The rule is simply this: If there as an issue that can be solved by spending less than 1% of what the customer has spent at that company, then your customer service department can just go ahead and fix the issue. They don't need to get permission, they can just solve the problem. In fact, they're required to solve the problem, not deflect and dissuade and make someone jump through hoops.

So, in this case, instead of losing a customer who had spent $5000 or more with them, they just would have spent the $8 or whatever the wholesale price is and sent him a new trick.

But won't people take advantage of this?

No. Because people don't spend 5000 dollars so they have can get $50 worth of "potential issue insurance" which is what this amounts to. And if they did that would thrill a company. Ask Vanishing Inc if they'd be willing to give you a $50 voucher to cover potential issues if you spend $5000 there. You don't even have to ask them. I don't need to ask them either. They will. Trust me. 

But I still love you, Penguin. I sure as hell won't buy anyone a gift from you if it's not right up against their birthday, but you'll continue to be a store I regularly patronize. If nothing else we need to support Penguin to keep Dan Harlan off the streets.

Ladies & Gentlemen

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This is a special announcement for my female readers.

Sorry, bitches!

You will not get your delicate paws on this close-up mat.

That's because, as the ad says, this is for the gentleman conjuror.

Oh, "Wah-wahh-wahhh!" Cram it, sister. I don't want to hear your whining. Go squeeze your boobs together, or whatever you ladies do with those things.

What were your plans for it anyway? Were you going to sop up your voluminous menstrual blood with it or some junk like that? This is a rich, velvety close-up pad for men. What don't you get about that? What are you even doing at this IBM ring meeting if you're not feeding or fellating us? There's no room for women in the refined art of wizard-pretending!

Magic is for sophisticated men like this

Or this

Or this

Magic provides me with the opportunity to gather with distinguished men such as these and to drink brandy and discuss Magic and Showmanship by Henning Nelms. Don't be naive, that book is just as relevant today as it ever was. You just don't understand it because your lady-brain is too full of Zumba routines, recipes, and the names of different breeds of horses to really "get" such a sophisticated art form.

What's next? You want to get your Lee Press-On Nails on our coin purses too?

Our gentleman's coin purses? The ones we keep our gentleman's coins in? Because that's where it seems like this is going. And you know a coin purse is a man's most sacred possession. The object by which other men judge his masculinity. Customarily they were made of a man's own scrotum.

Now, as the ad copy for this close-up pad says, it fits alongside your notebook, computer or tablet. These are instruments we men use for designing bridges and curing diseases. It does not say the close-up pad comfortably fits next to your mascara, vibrator, and Gilmore Girls DVDs. Because, let me repeat: This. Is. For. The. Gentleman. Conjuror.

I guess my main concern is this: The public perception of a "magician" is of a super-classy, gentleman. Yes, perhaps he has some of the traits of a scoundrel, but he has the heart of a noble man of good breeding. And we men have done such a commendable job of representing magicians as dashing, debonair men of taste and dignity that I'm a little concerned of what might happen if women were genuinely invited into the fold. Might they not undermine all the work we've done to build up magic as a hobby that is the epitome of urbane elegance?

And why can't they just use that close-up pad we designed specifically for them?