Make This: Fuxpin

There are a number of ideas I have for magic effects that I don't have the know-how or the inclination to follow-thru on and actually make. I'm going to start putting these on the site from time to time and anyone who wants is free to take the idea and run with it. Build it. Sell it. I don't give a shit. I've got more ideas than I need. 

Project Name: Fuxpin
Required Skills: Knowledge of computers and electronics. Perhaps some Home-Ec level sewing.

The Idea: So there's this thing called the cassette prediction. 

Wait... hold on... so there used to be these things called cassettes. 

They were an audio storage medium. Pre-CDs, post vinyl albums.

Ok? Are we on the same page? 

So at some point someone came up with a way to do an audio cassette prediction. Now, you might think, "Oh, cool. So someone would think of a song and then it would be predicted on this audio cassette? Or the magician would pretend the tape went along with an old film-strip, but it eerily predicted something that happened that day?"

Yeah, no.

Usually it was used as a way to do a headline prediction.

"But Andy, why would they do an audio prediction of something visual? It doesn't make sense that that's the way you would choose to deliver your prediction. Especially now that audio cassettes are such a rarity. And even perhaps 20 years ago when they were more common it must have seemed weird. This guy is sending out audio cassettes and lugging around a boombox when he just could have mailed a letter?"

Hey, look, I don't know. Don't blame me. 

The way the cassette prediction works is... well... I'm not 100% sure. But my understanding is that you would mail a cassette "prediction" to someone and tell them not to open it. Then, on the day of the show, you would play the cassette in the boombox you dragged there with you, but it wasn't really playing the tape. Instead it was recording to the tape from some other audio source inside the unit. That way you could seemingly play the tape and then leave the prediction with the participants when you were done.

What I'd like someone to make is a cassette prediction built into an old Teddy Ruxpin. (For those of you who are too young, or live in a country where this wasn't a thing, Teddy Ruxpin was a teddybear you would put cassettes into and then his mouth would move with the audio.)

And it should have the capacity that you can broadcast to it live via bluetooth or something, so you wouldn't need to make the prediction in advance. There should probably be some type of app compatibility as well, so that you could send some pre-made prediction to it on the fly.

I have some ideas about how I would use this in a non-professional setting, but I'll explain it as one might use it in a show, as that will be more straightforward. 

You come onstage. (Then you mop it up and continue with your performance. Ahhh... jokes.)

You walk onstage. There are two cardboard boxes on a table.

You toss a room temperature burrito into the crowd and have it thrown a few times to locate a random volunteer. Once the burrito stops you say, "Okay, sir, I'd like to use you as part of this next effect, but I have a couple questions first. Would you say you have an exotic first name or something fairly common."

He replies that it's fairly common. His name is Bill.

"That's perfect. Here's a bit of an odd question, but it will help me in accessing the part of your brain that keeps secrets. Is there something from your childhood that you did that was bad in some way that you always kept a secret? I'm not talking about anything too significant. I don't want to hear you set a drifter on fire. But some small transgression that you kept secret for a long time. Can you think of something?" 

He indicates that he can. "Great, you'll be perfect," you say.

You ask him to write this deed on a sheet of paper and fold it up and put it in his pocket. "As I said, this little secret of yours is like a key that unlocks a door in part of your brain. Exposing the secret—even if only to yourself on paper—makes it easier to peek inside that area of your mind." 

"We're going to create a new secret for you to try and keep. A secret playing card." You then go on to perform a moderately deceptive card force. Say the four of spades.

"Now, Bill, you have a secret in mind. Something no one here could know. I could try and read your mind, and I might even get it right. But I want to try something more interesting."

You walk over to your table with the cardboard boxes on it. "A couple weeks ago I bought two items on ebay. The first is this." You open up one of the boxes and remove a Teddy Ruxpin. "Does anyone remember this guy?"

You talk a little bit about ol' Teddy Ruxpin.

"One thing I think people don't remember very well is that while you could buy official Teddy Ruxpin merchandise, you could also buy third-party cassettes that you could play inside of him. Most of these were just additional children's stories, but some of these cassettes were bizarre. Some companies made tapes where it was a sound-alike celebrity voice, in case you wanted a bear that talked like John Travolta. There was a company that made, like, romantic cassettes for adults who wanted Teddy to be their boyfriend. There was even legitimate x-rated cassettes made for people who got off on hearing a bear say he was going to suck their balls or something."

"There was one company though, called Fuxpin. [You wouldn't actually use that name. Make up another company's name. I'm just using it as an example.] And Fuxpin had a pretty odd niche. You see, while the toy was designed to be a friend to children, there were some parents who realized it could be used to keep their children in line, as something like a surrogate adult who was 'watching' the child. And that they could perhaps scare the child into being good with this Teddy Ruxpin toy."

"So Fuxpin came along and made these cassettes for the bear where he would say stuff like. 'I've got my eye on you,' and, 'Don't be a bad boy or I'll tell your parents what you do. Don't make me tell.' It's actually kind of creepy. And they put out this line of cassettes that were personalized with the top 50 most popular boys and girls names. And at first there was a mild uproar because some parents thought it was inappropriate to do this to a kid. Some kids were getting really freaked out by the tapes. And when the adults started listening to the tapes they were getting scared too. It was pretty dark and scary stuff. Some of the parents claimed when they'd play the cassette it would say something like, "What are you doing, Mom? This tape isn't for you. It's for Billy. When will you learn to mind your business?"

"Now, of course, that's just urban legend type stuff, but it's still a creepy idea."

"That brings me to the other box. While searching around on ebay recently I found a listing for a box of deadstock tapes by the Fuxpin corporation. All 50 of the top male and female names in the US in the 1980s."

You remove a box of cassettes from the cardboard box. 

"Bill, will you find the tape for your name? They're in alphabetical order."

He find the tape and you ask him to put it in the bear and press play. 

Calliope music plays and then the bear's eyes open and he comes to life. A voice comes from the bear. It's not quite the same as the Teddy Ruxpin from the commercials. There's a breathier quality to it. It sound a little like Goofy but mixed with a heavy dose of "southern pedophile." 

"Hi Billy! My name is Teddy Ruxpin... can you and I be friends? We sure can, just so long as you're always honest with me. Don't keep secrets from me, Billy, because then I will not be your friend. Not at all."

Calliope music starts again 

You press stop on the tape. "See? Now, here's the really weird part. You have a card in your pocket, Bill. A card that no one here can know. A 'secret,' if you will. And it's like the bear can sense it. This is the type of thing that was freaking people out with these tapes back in the 80s."

You press play again. The music rolls for a little and then stops.

"Hi Billy. I'm Teddy Ruxpin. I know what you're thinking, Billy. I always know. Why would you keep something from me?  I guess you don't want to be friends. You'd rather be a brat with a secret. I know the card you chose. You picked the four of spades, Billy."

Calliope music starts. You press stop.

"He got it right, didn't he?" Bill agrees and removes the card. You show it to the audience and send Bill back to his seat.

You start putting stuff away. "This thing is genuinely weird," you say, and press play again in a "let's just listen to one more" sort of way.

"Hi, I'm Teddy Ruxpin...and I know what you did, Billy." In the midst of that sentence, most of the "character" aspects drop away from the voice. Now it's 80% just a creepy man's voice. "I'm always watching. Don't fuck with me, Billy. I saw you break that window. You think I wouldn't know. I know everything, you little prick." 

My head cocks back to the audience. "What did he say?" I rewind the tape a little. I go over to Bill. "Bill, before we started your wrote a secret from your past on a piece of paper and put it in your pocket. Can I see that paper." 

Bill hands me the paper. I press play on the tape player. When it gets to the "I saw you break that window" part, I unfold the paper and show it to the audience. It reads, "I broke a window."

I stop the tape, fold up the paper and give it back to Bill along with the cassette from the back of the bear as a souvenir.

---

Okay, so you'd need a way to get the information from whatever was written down to your assistant in the back. You could do that with an electronic clipboard, or just a normal impression pad that you casually toss offstage. 

Your confederate would then broadcast his message to the bear so that it lasts a specific length of time between calliope music. Ideally the rest of the tape would be filled with content so it would seem like this 'prediction' was buried in amongst a bunch of other messages from the bear.

---

Okay, okay. So while I'd like someone to build me this thing so I can use it myself with all the bluetooth and the sophistication and stuff like that, the truth is you can do the routine above almost identically with no new technology at all.

Get a real Teddy Ruxpin off ebay. Have a box of cassette tapes. The only difference in this version is that the spectator doesn't remove the tape from the box himself, you do it. 

You have your secret assistant backstage, the person who did the voice on the rest of the tape. They have a cassette in front of them that is full of messages with the exception of the prediction. When the audience member is selected, your assistant chooses the correct label for the tape with the kid's name on it and applies that label to the blank tape. The tape should be queued up to where the "prediction" starts. Once the information the spectator wrote down is delivered backstage, your assistant will have a couple minutes to record the 15 seconds of audio in the space between two calliope music segments. (The purpose of the calliope music is to have something that breaks up the tape into different portions, so you don't have to fit a prediction in the middle of other talking. Plus I think the music would seem creepy amidst the weird messages.) 

Then you just need to come up with a way to get that tape to your pocket, and then pretend to remove it from the box on stage. You can come up with a clever or stupid way to do this, I don't think it matters that much. 

There you have it. I don't think the method is any dumber than many methods in stage/parlor performing. And the trick is way better than most. (Unless you're really into egg bags. Or saying, "Set a time on this watch.... Hey! That's the time I wrote down on this paper!")

Gearing Up for the Romantic Adventure

This is a post about being this guy, as you lead your audience on magical adventures.

And not this guy, boring your audience and jerking off behind a palm plant.

---

From the Jerx Glossary:

Romantic Adventure - A Performance Style based on the concept of immersive magic. It's a performance style you must build up to with people. They must have faith that if they surrender themselves to the experience they're going to have a good time, they're going to see something they've never seen before, and you'll look out for them and not do anything that's going to put them in a dangerous or awkward situation. Effects in this style often play out over a longer period of time. Hours (or even days) are not uncommon.

For more background on this style, see this post. (For the effect mentioned at the end of that post, see Sunlight Bumblelily from The JAMM #4. It's one of the most insanely perfect and perfectly insane tricks I've ever come up with.)

As I said in a post last week: "I hope [this] serves as an example of a routine taking place in the present tense. It's not a story or a joke illustrated with cards, and it's not a re-enactment of something that happened once at a bar or around a poker table. It's something unfolding in real time that has some meaning. This is not a subtle difference that audiences aren't aware of. It's a much more engaging experience for the spectator, and it has nothing to do with them believing what's happening is real. They know it's fiction either way. But that's what makes this style of magic so strong. People are used to hearing, reading or watching fiction, they're not used to being in a fictional experience as it happens."

That is the goal of the Romantic Adventure style. 

---

In the months leading up to starting this site, I spent a lot of time talking to people I knew and people I met about magic. Not in any sort of formal way, but in a casual manner. And in that time I encountered maybe 15 people who expressly stated, "I don't like magic." 

And I always used to think people meant, "I don't like magic because when I watch it I get fooled and it's frustrating not to know how things are done." Disliking magic for that reason made sense to me. After studying magic for 25+ years, it's nice to be fooled. But when I first got into magic, the need to know how things were done was overwhelming to the point that being fooled was not particularly pleasant. 

But after digging a little, that was only true for a couple of the people who were anti-magic.

The majority of the people who didn't like magic gave one (or both) of these two answers when I asked them why.

1. It's boring. "It's boring?" I'd say. "What's boring about about something disappearing or levitating or something?" Then they'd go on to say they hadn't seen any magic like that. "What kind of tricks are boring?" I'd ask, and they'd describe some long card routine or something they saw at a magic show that was intended for children. Fair enough.

2. "This guy I know who did magic was weird." And then they would go on to tell me a story of some acquaintance they knew who used to do magic and he was kind of awkward or creepy. It was from these responses that I realized just how important it is to establish that you're not performing tricks for praise or acclaim or to get credit for a skill you don't really possess. It's one thing when a professional magician acts like he's really reading your mind. As an audience you get to say, "Wow! Well done! You're amazing." And then you never have to see the person again. But in a Social Magic situation there is a different dynamic between magician and spectator. And to not seem weird or needy you need to make it clear that this is not a demonstration of your superior skill or knowledge. This is just about you presenting something for their enjoyment, not to fill your need for approval.

This is harder than it first sounds because most every magic trick is designed to make it look like you're demonstrating some power. And people who go around demonstrating powers (of any type) don't come across as wildly secure and enjoyable to be around.

I mention this all to make one point. Most people who say "I don't like magic" are really saying, "I don't like magicians," and, more specifically, "I don't like this one particular magician who bored me or weirded me out." So you can be confident showing people magic as long as you're not that type of magician.

This is good news because to do the Romantic Adventure style properly, you can't be apologetic for what you're about to show them. You can't meekly go into the trick being like, "Oh, I know magic is kind of corny. But if you play along I swear it will be worth your while." You have to go into the trick with confidence. And that confidence is based, in part, on the relationship you build with that spectator over time.

---

To build the confidence to engage in this style with someone, you have to lay the groundwork. The groundwork isn't primarily for your sake, it's for theirs. If you're a professional and you go into a trick that's a little bizarre, you can do so pretty confidently because people are expecting something somewhat unusual when dealing with a magician. But if you're doing magic in social situations you want people to have some understanding of what they're getting into so they're not guarded and can give themselves over to the experience. 

In the post Bedrock: Outer Game, I sort of walked through the general process I take with people to build up to more intense, immersive effects. See that post for the step-by-step process.

The broad strokes are these (and it may take weeks or longer to go through these):

Step One: Perform quick, strong magic in a very unassuming manner. The goal here is to get people past whatever prejudice they may have towards magic by showing them things that could not be misconstrued as boring or self-indulgent. The Peek Backstage style is a perfect filter to take away any potential concern on their part that you might be taking yourself or the effects too seriously. 

Step Two: Introduce other questionable/fantastical elements into the presentations, and continue to shift the focus of the presentations off yourself. See last Monday's post and the section on Social Magic and the Performance Styles. The goal here is to break down people's need to analyze what's "real" or not by making that part of the equation unsatisfying or confusing or unnecessary.

Here's what I mean. If I say, "I'm reading your mind," or, "I'm levitating this bill with magic powers," the natural impulse is for you to say, "That's bullshit." (Or, at least, "that's nonsense.) This is kind of a knee-jerk reaction when someone is taking credit for something impossible. But if I say, "I found this list of instructions in a knot-hole in a tree trunk near my house when I was a kid, and something weird usually happens when I follow them," or, "I learned this way to make it look like a dollar bill is floating. But it only works on the new moon, which is tonight," or, "I went to a convention of magicians and they had this special workshop that four of us were picked to attend by a random lottery. I want to show you what I learned because it's freaking me out and I don't really understand it." 

Now you don't automatically say "bullshit." Instead you don't really know what to think. And after I show you a few tricks in this style, you realize it doesn't really matter. That's the idea. Not to get you to believe something that not true, but to get you to realize that in these interactions with me it doesn't matter what's true or not. It's not the type of trick where I'm trying to impress you or seek your approval. We're just having fun together.

Step Three: Once the audience is acclimated to not caring about what in the presentation is fantasy and what's reality, they're ready for more immersive presentations. Not every person I meet gets to this point. Some people get there very quickly, some don't ever get there. What I mean by "this point" is the point where they realize that worrying about what's completely true or completely false is getting in the way of them enjoying the experience. The reason it takes a while to get to this point in magic is because manipulation and deception are involved. And you need to build up a relationship with a person so they realize you're not deceiving them for your own benefit, but for theirs.

That's easier for them to understand when you're on a stage. "This is a show to entertain me." But it takes a few more steps to get to that place in an interpersonal, social interaction.

---

Some people I've talked about the Romantic Adventure style with are scared off by it because they think it requires acting ability. It doesn't. I can't act either. In fact, if anything, the mistake I see people make is that they emote too much. They're treating it too much like a show. Whereas it's better if the narrative, while obviously false, feels genuine. 

So, in general, I just perform with my normal personality which is pretty low-key. Once people have reached "stage three" as described in the section above, you shouldn't have to sell things so much. They should know that whatever you're setting up is going to lead somewhere interesting.

The most acting I do is sometimes to play a "frustrated moron" character. But usually I just play things very straight.

Here's a video clip of John Krasinski as Jim on the Office. His demeanor here is very similar to mine when I show people tricks. (Which, in turn, is similar to my demeanor when I'm not showing people tricks. That's the whole point. A consistency in your personality. Not putting on an act.)

---

But, while my demeanor is kind of chill, I'm completely committed to the narrative I'm establishing. As I said above, there's really no use building people up to this style of performing if you're going to be apologetic about it. Or if you're going to do it all with a wink. It's just not worth the effort. The whole idea is to give people an experience they know is fictional but in most respects feels real. And you can't do that without you being committed to the experience.

If you want to do it with your tongue in cheek and be like, "Aren't we being silly!" Then you'd prefer a more traditional style. "Here... shuffle my invisible deck! Take it out of the box first, ya goof!" That sort of thing. Which is fine too, but a very different feeling.

---

I'm going to leave you with a gift of one of my favorite videos on youtube. It's a perfect demonstration of commitment. I think magicians are often hesitant in their performances because of a concern about preconceived notions their audience might have about magic. So their performance can often come off as apprehensive, which can be a turn off for an audience. 

Some magician's combat this by being overly brash. But anyone over the age of 12 sees that as a form of compensation and it's unlikely to come across the way you want it to. 

Both hesitancy and brashness can make an audience uncomfortable. 

What you need is confidence and commitment. Confidence in your material and commitment to the premise. 

When I think of commitment, I think of Bobby Banas and Gina Trikonis. 

Below is a video of a group of people dancing to The Nitty Gritty on the Judy Garland Show. The couple in front is Bobby Banas and Gina Trikonis. Bobby choreographed this routine. It's hard to take your eyes off that couple. They're 100% committed to the routine.

What's interesting is that if you look at the couple in the back right, they're about 80% committed. And the couple in the back left—while undoubtedly good dancers—are putting about 60% of the energy the couple in front is. So within the same dance troupe, performing the same choreography, we can see how commitment can draw an audience in.

When I do any type of performance I try to remember Bobby and Gina and how we're attracted to confidence and commitment. This is something that's especially needed in the Romantic Adventure style because the immersive nature can be very new to people and they want to have faith that you can navigate them through it. If you don't seem to have belief that what you're going to show them is worth their investment, it's going to be hard to get them on board. But if you've built up their trust in you and present something genuinely novel, I find it to be the most satisfying and "magical" style of performance there is.

Gardyloo #48

From reader C.H.

"After you mentioned Beck and Card in yesterday's post I was reminded of something I've been meaning to tell you. I put that trick in my rotation of effects at the restaurant where I work a couple weeks after that issue came out. It's such a fun routine to perform and I everyone seemed to really enjoy it. After about a week of performing it regularly, the manager of the restaurant pulled me aside and said I could only do that trick at certain times for certain audiences because some groups were getting so rowdy just from the set-up of that trick and it was disturbing other customers. I thought you'd find that amusing."

Having seen this trick in action in a restaurant setting, I don't doubt that at all. It's one of the rare tricks that makes me wish I performed more for small groups of strangers because I think it's pretty much perfect in that respect. And the inherent comedy in the build up to the effect (comedy that doesn't require any corny lines or jokes) is very strong.

Also the final change of their card to your license (or GLOMM membership card, as in the gif below) is always a great moment. My friend who created this trick has a book's worth of material that is equally as strong. An effect or two of his will be in Magic For Young Lovers. Beck and Card is in The JAMM #3.

---

JM Beckers writes:

"Your latest posts have pushed me into a strong dilemma: I resisted the idea of letting google into my house, but now I feel urged to do so. Maybe I can just use it to show my friends why I actually never keep the thing online."

Honestly, this is a good idea. What I mean is, having a Google Home sitting on your coffee table disconnected is an even better lead-in to the Google Home Word Reveal, than having one set-up and ready to go. Its presents an unanswered question that even more naturally flows into the routine. "Why do I have this if I'm not going to plug it in? Well, let me show you."

Of course, doing it that way only makes sense if you're performing for a guest who you see infrequently. That way you can leave it out and act like you just got it, tried it out, and disconnected it. But for family or someone you see a lot it makes more sense to to keep it connected, that way you don't seem like a weirdo with a disconnected speaker/virtual assistant thing always on his end table.

---

No, this isn't magic. But yes, it is still kind of magic. 

---

Kevin Pegram, aka "Angelo Colletie" has been kicked out of The Global League of Magicians and Mentalists, because he just can't stay away from the young kids.

This pasty sack-of-shit is a repeat sex offender with 21 convictions, including having sex with a 12-year-old who he met while performing magic at a restaurant's "family night" back in 2002. 

He got out of jail in 2015 and you might say, "Andy, he paid his dues, he should be free to live his life." Ok. Sure. But if that's your history, don't go changing your name and getting a job at another restaurant's "Family Fun Night." It's not a good look. 

(Also, Fox8, you don't need to say "freelance magician." The "freelance" part is sort of a given. "Oh, you mean you're not the staff magician for Nabisco? I just assumed you were full-time here.")

Look, Kevin/Angelo, we're all hoping there aren't new accusations other than you violating the sex offender statute by putting yourself in a position where you can be a creep around kids again. I won't hold my breath on that, but maybe it's the case. And maybe you'll be out again soon. If so, can you please put the magic act on hold? For the sake of us out here who aren't using magic to seduce pre-teens? Please? It's not like the world is demanding your talent. I just watched you on video. You're a grade-A dullard stumbling through tricks with zero charisma like 95% of the other magicians in the world. You won't be missed. Do something useful with your time. Volunteer at an animal shelter. (I don't have to tell you not to fuck the animals, do I?)

Oh christ.

"I also do a lot of street magic. Sort of like... on the streets of unsuspecting people."

Oh... I have no doubt that you spend a lot of time lurking on the streets of unsuspecting people. Peeping in windows. Sneaking in the garage and rubbing your dick on their bike seats. 

What is this video for, by the way? I'm guessing it was a submission for America's Got Talent or Fool Us or something. And you were like, "Hmmm... I wonder where would be the best place to demonstrate how I do street magic for unsuspecting people... I got it! In the woods with no one around!"

"And if I rub this hole just right."

Bitch, you haven't rubbed a hole right in your life. I promise you. Your inability to rub holes "just right" is the one character trait that oozes from you as you meander through these woods pretending to pick up discarded Dr. Peppers.

"The next time before you decide to recycle cans, think of me instead." 

Huh? That's your big closing line? Did you work on that? I pray it doesn't come out you have Scripting Magic in your library or Pete McCabe is going to jump in front of a bus. Let me try to unpack this. The next time before I decide to recycle cans, I should think of you instead. Instead of what? Instead of deciding to recycle cans? Ok... I think of you... and then? What do I do with this can in my hand? I'm confused. Hey, you were in prison for over a decade. In all that time you didn't think to crack a book and figure out how sentences work?

Here, I'll punch up your script and we can reshoot this when you're out.

"Hi, I'm Kevin Pegram, aka Angelo Colletie. And you know, trying to stay 500 yards from the nearest school while prowling the neighborhoods looking for girls whose brains have yet to fully develop because you can't trick an adult woman into being attracted to you sexually can make a man mighty thirsty. But what am I going to do? Carry around a six pack with me and risk having them clang together while I'm pulling some tweens panties from the clothesline behind her house, alerting everyone to my presence? No thank you. What I do is just look for an empty can and then use my magic to bring it back in time.

[Here's where you do your shitty, unconvincing version of Healed and Sealed.]

There you have it! I hope the next time you see some worthless trash, you'll think of me."

That Bitch-Ass Tart (a presentation for The Ambitious Card)

The Ambitious Card is not a trick that is well-suited for a presentation beyond, "Hey, check this out." This is true of most multi-phase tricks where the same thing happens over and over and the strength of the trick comes from the impossibility of the repetition. That's just the nature of those sorts of tricks. The only variation I've seen that successfully feels like something other than the card rising to the top over and over is my friend Andrew's trick, Beck and Card which is in the JAMM #3.

That's not to say there aren't other good presentations. In the past I've enjoyed performing David Regal's version where you have someone draw a dog on the card and the card comes to the top when it's called. It's cute and fun. But It's more like a "skin" put on top of the standard Ambitious Card trick to make it a little more entertaining. It's not the type of presentation that turns the experience into something different. 

Earlier this year, Detective Chris, sent me a card routine he had put together that included a couple ambitious phases. The routine started with him removing the Queen of Diamonds and saying that this will represent his ex-wife. The "ex-wife" repeatedly comes to the top of the deck before going to his pocket and then his wallet. It's a presentation that lends itself to some potential humor (or lends itself to you coming off as insecure misogynist, which, as a magician, you probably are).

It wasn't really my type of routine for a couple reasons. The first is that it's eight phases. The second is that I prefer presentations that aren't overtly representational. A lot of magicians love this type of thing. Think Eugene Burger or Robert Neale. And even though Chris' routine didn't have the formal story structure you might see with those two magicians, I think whenever you set up a magic prop as representing something else (e.g., "The Queen of Diamonds represents my ex-wife.") you are essentially telling a story about something other than the here and now. And, as I've said before, in my experience, the strongest tricks are the ones where the narrative of the story is in the present-tense. The audience isn't hearing a story, they're witnessing one unfold. 

I was inspired by Chris' routine and in writing him about some tweaks I would make to it, a presentation evolved that I thought some other people might really like. It's not something I've performed, and I probably won't because it's not 100% my style. I think it's about 65% my style. But I think some people will find 65% my style to be something that's right up their alley. And, while I've written it up as a sort of R-rated routine, you could tone it down and come up with something more family friendly and it would work as a nice little showpiece. 

It's still a multi-phase routine, but it's not the same thing happening over and over, as in a standard ambitious card. And there is still an element of a card representing a person, but in a more indirect way. Instead of a trick that starts out being about your ex-wife (or girlfriend, or boyfriend, or whatever) it turns into that as it progresses. So the card isn't used as a representation of your ex-wife, but it becomes a manifestation of her, and her energy, as the trick goes along. 

That Bitch-Ass Tart 

I will describe the routine and method at the same time. I haven't worked out the finer details of the method because, as I mentioned, I haven't performed this myself. But if it's something that appeals to you, it would be relatively easy to figure out those details.

The idea behind this presentation is that it's meant to evolve out of another trick that you're performing for people. You'll see what I mean. It's meant to feel unplanned. The extent to which the audience believes it's unplanned isn't that important. 

Scene One

So, let's say you're showing your audience every trick from Expert at the Card Table. You've just shown them, "The Invisible Flight." Then, as is customary after showing people a trick from Erdnase, you gently wake them from their slumber, and then you go into "The Travelling Card."

"Ladies and Gentlemen: I am constantly importuned by some of the most curious and least discerning of my auditors to explain the manner by which the results in certain tricks are achieved," you say to the audience, in Erdnase's stilted prose.

You have a card selected and signed without looking at it. 

[Here you force the Queen of Diamonds.]

When it's handed back to you, you notice what card it is for the first time and it sort of breaks your concentration.

"Oh... uhm... actually... let's use a different card for this. If that's okay."

You put the Queen into the middle of the deck.

"It doesn't really matter what the card is, as long as you sign it."

You toss the top card on the table and gesture that they should take it and sign it. 

They pick it up and find it's the Queen. The card they just saw you put in the middle of the deck.

[To accomplish this I would either use a top change and bury the indifferent card leaving the Queen on the top of the deck. Or I'd secretly reverse the top card, place the Queen on top face-up. Double turnover, and slide the indifferent card (apparently the Queen) into the middle.]

Scene Two

You see they've got the Queen again.

"Goddammit," you say, resignedly. Your shoulders slump. "Sorry. This is not what I wanted to be dealing with here today. I really just wanted to show you how great the tricks in the 'bible of card magic' are. But... ok... how do I explain this... This is all due to my ex-wife."

You don't need an ex-wife to do this presentation. You can be 14. It will still be good.

"So... it's our first date. I, being a bit of a loser, decide to show her a magic trick. I thought I was being romantic or something so I said, 'Sweetie, if you stay with me, I'll always be your... King of Hearts.' And I made the King of Hearts appear from mid-air. And then she took the deck from me and pulled a card out and said, 'And I'll always be your Queen of Diamonds.' That should have been a sign. I mean, like, seriously bitch? Diamonds and hearts aren't even the same family. You didn't pick the queen of hearts? For real? It turned out to be sort of apropos given how good she was at spending my money, and then taking half of it in the divorce. And, since there isn't a Queen of Sucking Your Friend's Dicks While You're Out of Town, it probably was the most appropriate."

"At first it was cute. She'd call me her king of hearts, and I'd call her my queen of diamonds. It was sweet. But then when things went south between us, that whole pet-name thing became disgusting to me. And just seeing a queen of diamonds would haunt me because it would remind me of her. Usually I would take the card out of the deck because not only was the association too painful, but it also seemed like the card was somehow drawn to me. It would always show up in my hand during card games, and pop up when I was showing someone a trick. Obviously it must be something I'm doing subconsciously in the way I'm handling the cards or whatever. The card's not possessed. My rational mind knows that. But it feels like the card is hounding me and mocking me, like she did. Whatever I do to get the card away from me... it's always, just... right there."

[During that last sentence you can do any standard ambitious card sequence. "Whatever I do to get the card away from me," bury the card in the deck, "it's always, just," take the top card off the deck, "right there," turn the card over. Don't do this in a "ta-dah!' way. Just in an exasperated, "see what I mean?" way.]

Scene Three

"But... let's move on," you say and take the card and put it in your pocket. 

"I've moved on in my life and we're going to move on with the trick. Please, take any card you want."

You ribbon spread the cards on the table or spread them between your hands and the Queen is back, staring at you, face-up in the middle of the face-down deck.

"The hell?" you say. Reach into your pocket where the Queen was and pull out the pocket showing it empty.

[You have a couple options here. The queen is placed face up on top of the deck. You want to do the thing where you seemingly pick it up in the palm of your hand, but actually you deposit a face-down card on top of it to hide that it's there. You can either side-steal out a card into your right hand and deposit it on top in the motion of taking the queen and then go to your pocket with nothing. Or you can do an Erdnase color change, but instead of using it as a color change you're miming the actions of taking the card and putting it in your pocket. Either way the card is now face-up, second from the top in the face-down deck. Then give it a cut, pass, or overhand shuffle to centralize it before spreading the deck for the selection.]

Scene Four

You take the card out of the deck, uncap the marker and start X'ing out the Queen's face. You cross out the spectator's name too. "I don't even like having your name associated with the card. Say... what's the worst thing you can call a woman?"

After a moment your spectator suggests something. "Fat-ass cum dumpster?"

"Perfect," you say, and write it on the card.

You make some disparaging remarks to the card and then tear it into four pieces and set it aside.

You take a deep breath and let it out. "Ahhhh... that felt good. Where were we? Oh yes... say stop as I run my thumb along the edge of the deck."

The spectator stops you at a card... it's that goddamn queen again!

Slowly, almost fearfully, you reach your hand across the table for the pieces of card you ripped up earlier. You turn them over, and they're four pieces of the King of Hearts—your card.

"Oh, Jesus...," you say. 

[Okay, for this part the King of Hearts needs to be on top of the pack. When I say I didn't work out the fine details of the effect, that's one of the ones I'm talking about. You'll have to figure out how to keep that card there during the earlier parts of the trick, or how to get it there when you need it.

After you've de-faced the Queen (rest it on the top of the deck while you draw, so you have an excuse for having the deck in your hands) you're going to do a top-change, but with a minor variation that I've found goes over well in similar contexts.

So the card is in the right hand, in top-change position. By that I mean it's held between your thumb on the back and fingers on the front. At this point, however, it's not held horizontally, it's held facing your spectators. Then you tilt it back towards yourself so you can see the face too. And you'll speak to the card (as if speaking to your ex). "You sick bitch. They got it right. You're just a fat-ass cum dumpster." 

Now you'll look up and make an aside to your audience. "Well, to be fair, she actually had a pretty smoking hot body. That's probably what kept me around so long." During this aside you will execute a standard top change. The card is now held facing the floor. 

Twirl the card so it is now facing you and again say something to it. "But whatever. Your personality had a fat ass, you ho-bag." You then rip the card into quarters. Try to keep the face to yourself, but if a bit of it flashes it's not the end of the world as they're both court cards. 

By having a continuity of action (talking shit to the card) that happens before and after the top change it really locks in the idea that it's the same card. I've done this phase in a separate context and the reactions are very strong when the card returns whole.

Scene Five

You rub your eyes with the heels of your palms. "Gahhhh! Again, I'm sorry, this isn't what I wanted to be doing here today. This is the same feeling I had when trying to distance myself from her before."

Take a beat and compose yourself.

"You know what? Screw it. The only way forward in my real life was to make peace with the situation. So that's what we'll do. It's fine. This card is fine. She's fine. Everything is just fine. I can't let it ruin my life or ruin my time here with you."

You put the card back in the deck and shuffle up the cards. You spread the cards to have one picked by the spectator.

"Let me guess...," you say, somewhat defeatedly. 

But no, the spectator didn't pick the queen. You look at the card. It's the four clubs. 

"Huh... well, what do you know...maybe it's over. I guess there's a first time for everything." 

You flinch. "Oh no," you say. "Oh no, no, no, no, no." You flip the deck face up and spread it on the table. The Queen is nowhere to be found.

"Don't tell me...," you say and reach for your wallet. 

You open it up. "My cash is gone! Goddammit, all my credit cards are gone!" With two fingers you reach into your wallet and remove the signed Queen, holding it lightly from one corner. "You bitch!" you say, and toss it away and run out of the room flailing and sobbing like a genuine pantywaist.

Moments later a gunshot is heard from the other room. Your problems are over.

Or, for a less dramatic ending you can remove the card, huffing and puffing with anger. Then be like, "Ah... I can't stay mad at you." Toss the card on the table. "Gotta go, guys. I'm in the mood for a little sex with the ex, if you feel me. Yes, she's an absolute cretin, but you gotta see that ass," you say and run out of the room for your booty-call.

[So this final phase is obviously just a card to wallet effect. The handling will vary depending on whether you're sitting or standing and the type of wallet you're using. You'll put the card back in the deck and shuffle controlling it to the top or bottom. You can then palm it off or lap it. Again, this will all depend on your situation. Keep in mind there's a good moment of misdirection where the spectator is turning over their genuine selection that you may want to take advantage of.]

There you go. After writing it up, I'm more pleased with the whole thing than I thought I was and I'm definitely going to try it out. If nothing else, I hope it serves as an example of a routine taking place in the present tense. It's not a story or a joke illustrated with cards, and it's not a re-enactment of something that happened once at a bar or around a poker table. It's something unfolding in real time that has some meaning. This is not a subtle difference that audiences aren't aware of. It's a much more engaging experience for the spectator, and it has nothing to do with them believing what's happening is real. They know it's fiction either way. But that's what makes this style of magic so strong. People are used to hearing, reading or watching fiction, they're not used to being in a fictional experience as it happens. (More on this next week when we talk about the Romantic Adventure performance style.)

Scheduling Info

Tomorrow's post will go up in the afternoon New York time, not in the early morning.

The first issue of the X-Communication quarterly newsletter will come out in April.

I'm going to drop by for dinner on Sunday around 6:00.

Social Magic Basics Pt. 3

The presumption when talking about Social Magic is that magicians tend to fall into one of two categories:

1. They want to perform magic to strangers for money.

2. They want to perform magic to people they know for fun.

(This implies two other categories as well, but I think we can take the category of "wanting to perform magic to people you know for money" off the table. That seems like a long-shot. 

So that leaves the category of "wanting to perform magic to strangers for fun." I don't think this category really exists. There was a time in the early 2000s where—inspired by David Blaine—a lot of people talked about performing "Street Magic" where you would walk up to strangers on the street or in a mall and perform magic for them. This idea appealed to younger magicians, primarily teenagers, because teenagers are stupid, and performing for strangers for fun is sort of a stupid idea. They didn't ask to see magic, they don't know you as a person, and you don't have a camera crew to put your performance into context. It's just kind of a weird deal all around.

That's not to say that everyone I perform for is a close friend or family member. I often show a trick to someone I just recently met that night, but usually it's someone I hope to interact with after the effect. I don't perform and then run off. So the magic might be part of building some rapport. Or I may perform for my seat-mate on a train or plane. But I see that as a little mini-relationship, and I would still only show them something if it flowed with our interaction.)

The idea of Social Magic is to develop a manner of performing for the people in your life so that it remains fun for everyone involved for the long-term.

Here are some styles of performing that I've found don't work in the long-term:

1. Pretending you have actual powers that are either supernatural or just highly unusual. In the long-term this will be obviously incongruous with the real "you."
2. Performing tricks that are highly scripted, in a theatrical style. In the long-term this can come off as annoying or alienating, and it can be a barrier to your interaction with people because it feels like you step into a character when you perform.
3. Performing tricks very casually with no other framing device other than, "Here's a trick." This is probably where most of us are or were with our performances for friends and family. While the casual aspect is good, in the long-term, the magic itself quickly loses its novelty. And if there's nothing for them to latch onto other than the trick itself, then your tricks will sort of blend together and won't garner the reactions they did when you first started showing them magic. 

As it turns out, the tactic that I think does hold up in the long-term, is presenting yourself as someone with an interest in magic and then giving people a semi-fictionalized glimpse into what the world of magic entails. You're not pretending to be a magician, or mindreader. You're not putting on a show. And you're not giving them random tricks devoid of context. 

Instead you're giving them a true "behind the scenes" look at how magic is learned, practiced, and passed along, mixed with a more fantastical take on that subject as well.

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Social Magic and Performance Styles

The performance styles I've described in the past fit in well with this concept of Social Magic. They are all "meta" presentations, for the most part. They are presentations that are about being someone who has an interest in magic. (If you're newer here, the Performance Styles are briefly described and linked to their original posts in the Glossary.)

The Peek Backstage is a style that is about the study and practice of magic and letting them assist you in those things.

The Distracted Artist is a style that is borne out of the idea that someone who studied and worked on magic tricks would interact with their environment in a different way than someone who hadn't. Just as anyone who studies a particular art or craft might.

The Engagement Ceremony is a style that is about the unusual rituals and procedures you might come across as someone with an interest in magic. You don't need to present these as actual supernatural rituals. My attitude is that I'm just always on the lookout for potentially interesting concepts and techniques and here's this thing I read about (a Navajo synchronicity ceremony, for example) and, of course, it must be nonsense but there does seem to be something weird that happens sometimes when you follow it. And then people are free to play along and buy into this as much as they like.

The Wonder Room is a style that is about the strange objects you might accumulate as someone with an interest in magic.

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You might not immediately grasp how a "meta" performance style can disarm people and open them up to experiencing the magic more profoundly. Here's an analogy I've used before that may register more with you now after having read these Social Magic posts...

If you meet me at a party and I'm all dressed in black and goth-y and I'm like, "I'm a real life vampire... a creature of the night. No, I don't turn into a bat. But yes, I drink blood and exude raw sexual energy." Your first image of me would be some jocks dunking my head in the toilet in high school because you're a rational adult and you know vampires don't exist so me pretending to be one on any level comes across as somewhat pathetic.

But if you meet me at a party and I tell you how I have an interest in vampires and the subculture and I've been doing a lot of research on the subject. And then I say, "Obviously anyone claiming to be a modern-day vampire is just play-acting. I mean... I think that's true...but I have to say, I went to this one village in Serbia while I was doing research and some pretty crazy things happened when the sun went down...." Then I could undoubtedly tell you a story that would chill you and enthrall you on some level. And in a much greater way than I could if I was trying to pass myself off as a vampire.

I think it works that way with magic too. If I say, "I'm a magician," people's first thought will be "Oh, so he does little tricks and stuff, like I did when I was a kid." And if I say, "But I don't do cheap tricks. Im actually a real magician," then people will just think I'm straight up delusional. Neither of those thoughts are great for engendering a feeling of magic.

But, if it comes out that I have an interest in magic and I say something like, "I don't really perform all that much. I used to when I was a kid. But now it's just one of my hobbies to track down some more esoteric concepts. I mean... you can learn how to do basic tricks from youtube or a book, but there's a whole other level to this sort of thing that almost nobody knows about that I've been trying to learn through some back channels," then I will have people begging me to show them something. And by not trying to come off as "the magician" or some psychological genius, but instead just a person who has an interest in this sort of thing, I am much more relatable. So they can sort of join me on this journey. And then when I say something like, "Say... do you want to see something I learned recently that really freaked me out? Don't ask me how it's done, because I don't know. I just know how to set it up and it sort of works itself. The guy who showed it to me won't teach me the full secret until someone else who knows the secret dies. He only ever wants six people in the world who actually know the secret," I can sort of sneak enchantment in through the backdoor in a way I never could with a more direct presentation where I need to take credit for my "miracles."

By using these meta-styles I'm giving people areas of entry to talk about magic with me beyond just saying "show me a trick." This allows the subject of magic to flow more freely in and around my conversations which, in turn, leads to more opportunities for weaving magic into my natural interaction, which is the goal of Social Magic. 

[The one performance style I haven't mentioned here is the Romantic Adventure. That's a weird one because it's sort of a meta-meta-performance style. I'll have some new thoughts on this style soon.]

Gardyloo #47

From reader, Devon L.

"I'm new to your site and I'm slowly working my way through your back catalog of posts so I don't have much experience performing tricks in the way you suggest. But I wanted to drop you a line to let you know I tried the Google Home trick you posted today for my wife and it got the biggest reaction of anything I've performed for her since we first met 12 years ago. Despite knowing it was a trick she was riveted to every step of the presentation in a way she isn't with most tricks and she yelped when the Google Home said her word. I don't know why it went so well, but I wanted to thank you and I just signed up for the year 3 bonuses. Thanks."

I have a theory, Devon. Because I've had similar experiences with that effect. I thought it would just be something of a goof, but it has turned out to be a fairly strong trick for me. And I think the reason why it's a strong trick is because the narrative is unimpeachable. The "story" of the trick is ridiculous, but the structure of the story makes perfect sense.

The story: The man thought his Google Home was not only listening to everything he said, but also picking up on thoughts too. So he asked it what the woman was thinking, but the thoughts weren't coming through clearly. So he had her concentrate on a specific random word, but still the thoughts weren't clear enough. So he blocked his thoughts with tin foil and then the Google assistant was able to read the woman's mind. 

Yes, it reads like a summary of the world's worst Black Mirror episode, but there's no flaw in the narrative itself. And while I don't think every trick you do needs to have a logical narrative that accompanies it, I do think having one makes it easier for an audience to connect to the trick, and gives them something beyond just "being fooled" to hang onto long past the conclusion of the effect.

Compare the previous story to this one: The man borrowed a dollar bill. And then it disappeared. And it showed up in a lemon!

That's just retarded nonsense. And that's true of most magic presentations. "Behold the classic story of a man who put a ball under a cup and then it went under a different cup." 

You're giving people something impossible, but not much else. Many magicians would argue that that's enough. They'd say, "Magic is about doing something impossible, not creating interesting narratives." That's a fair point of view. But I think there might be some correlation between that stance and some other things magicians say like, "Why do people just see my tricks as a puzzle to be solved?" and "Why do people think magic is just for kids?" and "Hey, let's go beg congress to pass a resolution recognizing magic as an art."

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Regarding Stray the Daisy, Pete McCabe wrote in to suggest that if you add an extra card to the top of the deck at the start, then you can know how many cards the spectator dealt off just by reading the number on the back of the top card, rather than reading the number and subtracting by one. 

This is true. And it is a smarter set-up.

But beyond that, I just like the idea that in some part of Pete's mind he read something that required you to subtract by one and he thought, "There's gotta be a better way!"

As for me, I'll continue to do it the old way and subtract by one because I'm a really smart guy with a savvy mathematical mind. (And I keep my phone in my lap open to the calculator during that trick to double check my work.)

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Dear friend, and illustrator of The Jerx, Volume One; The Jerx deck; this site's banner image; and the GLOMM logo—Stasia Burrington—recently had the first children's book she illustrated released by HarperCollins. It's called Mae Among the Stars and it's about Mae Jemison, the first African American woman to travel in space.

If there's a young person in your life who might appreciate the book, don't hesitate to pick it up.

There may not be a big overlap in the audience for her book and my work (despite the fact that I too am a huge inspiration for young women of color), but I wanted to mention it because I'm very proud of her and happy for her success.

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Just working on the cover art for a 14 DVD box set of my work with Josh Jay doing the performances and explanations. Once I get the cover finished and take in the money for pre-orders, I'm going to ask Josh if he wants to do it. (If not your money will be donated to the Jerx Home for Destitute and Feeble-Minded Magic Bloggers.)