Gardyloo #65

This is weird.

So a few years ago there was a product put out called The Divers Lung Tester. It's a steampunk looking thing that's used for a prank.

The idea was that you would introduce the prop as an old "Divers Lung Tester" and you would blow into it and the air would flow through it and move the little paddle-wheel thingy. And you would say that the longer you could blow and move the wheel the better your lung capacity was for diving purposes. Or something.

But, when the other person goes to try it, they end up blowing a bunch of powder into their face.

The Diver's Lung Tester is a version of a prank known as a "blow back pipe."

Is this funny? Maybe. It's just not really my scene. When I want to cover someone's face with a milky whiteness, I have them wrap their lips around something else. That's more my style.

But here's the weird thing. The guy behind The Divers Lung Tester has come out with this.

It's a whistle that blows powder in people's faces. 

The ad copy says:

"Completely self-contained, The Whistle Blower does everything the Divers Lung Tester® does, but with the added advantage of being able to fit into a pocket."

Uhm.... okay... Here's the thing... if your only goal is to get powder on someone's face, then yes, I guess this does everything the Divers Lung Tester does. But, by that standard, Mr. Fuji does the same thing as well.

The thing about the Divers Lung Tester is you could have it on a shelf or a table in your home and someone's going to look at it and wonder what it is. And when you describe what it does and demonstrate it, most people will have at least some inclination to want to try it themselves. So there's very much a garden path here that you're leading people down. 

But where is the motivation with a whistle? There is none. "Here, come blow this whistle I've been carrying in my pocket!" Uhm, yeah, no thanks. I'm good.

I guess you could come up with some convoluted rationale in regards to why you need someone to blow into a whistle for no reason, but it hardly seems worth it. Coming up with some lame thing like, "Blow the whistle when you see your card," or some shit is literally no different than just whipping some talcum powder in their face. There's no sport in just telling someone to do something arbitrary that has an unpleasant outcome.

Jokes and pranks are like little cons. And like cons, you want to have the "mark" acting on their own free-will. I offer you a piece of gum and you take it and it snaps down on your finger. You see a dollar bill on the street, go to pick it up, and I pull it away on a string. Classic pranks. But if I command you to take a piece of gum or pick up a piece of paper on the sidewalk, you kind of lose the prank aspect. (Coercing someone to do something that has a negative consequence isn't really a prank.)

One of the quotes used in the advertising gets things exactly backwards. "This is a beauty, it brings the classic Lung Tester with all its fun into a perfectly natural prop, just love it." The strength of the Lung Tester is that it's not a natural prop. That's what provides the motivation to get them to blow into it: the novelty of it. If you wanted to make a close-up plastic version, they should have built it into one of these. 

You could brag about how good you are at it and how it "actually takes quite a bit of skill to keep the ball floating" and pretty soon someone would be grabbing it out of your hands just to try it and shut you up by showing you it's not really that hard.

Honestly, what they should have done is made something that said "Pocket Breathalyzer" with some kind of spinning wheel that supposedly tells you your blood alcohol level. You could bring it out at a party or a bar which would be a perfect location for this kind of prank. When they blow into it you could turn your back for a moment and when you turn back around you're like, "Well, you're not too drunk, but your cocaine problem is out of hand."

Or make it a "Breath Freshness Analyzer," people would be falling all over each other to blow into it. 

But no one wants to just randomly blow on a whistle you had in your pocket.

Could I come up with a motivation for this? Well...I guess you could gift it to your friend as a rape whistle, then break into his house later that night and start raping him to get him to blow the whistle. And sure, there would be lots of laughs later on as you two cleaned the powder from his face and the blood from his underwear, but is it really worth becoming a registered sex offender for this prank?

More from the ad copy: "You will certainly be a talking point with The Whistle Blower in your everyday carry!"

Oh, you'll be a "talking point" alright. People will be saying, "Did you know this fucking nerd carries around a trick whistle in his pocket every day?"

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Also, if you want this, Penguin is running a great sale on it...

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And finally, every time I say something mildly critical about anything, I get at least one email lecturing me about why I'm wrong. Not to pull back the curtain too much but I don't really care about this type of stuff. It's just fun to write about and joke about. I mean, I believe the general gist of what I'm saying, but I don't care if anyone else does. You want to buy the whistle that shoots powder on people? Knock yourself out. Have fun. 

In fact, here's a mildly funny use for it.

"Check this out," you say, pulling the whistle from your pocket. "Seventy-eight dollars. No kidding. I know it looks just like a cheap plastic whistle, but it's actually a dog whistle. The cool thing is the company that manufactures them can make them so the sound is at a frequency that's unique to your specific dog. So it just calls him and not other dogs in the area. And it works up to three miles. Try it out. Give it a blow." They do and they get covered in powder. "There's ol' Rusty," you say. Then, very solemnly, "He got hit by a car three years ago. We had him cremated."

---

One of the more embarrassing things I've seen in a few different Penguin Live lectures is when someone shares a mediocre trick and then says, "This trick just gets stunned silence from spectators." No. It just gets regular silence. 

This is a little self-preservation thing a lot of magicians do. They'll do a trick and it doesn't get much of a response and they'll think. "Ah! They were just so blown away they couldn't respond." 

Understanding reactions is critical to getting better with magic. Here is how to differentiate between stunned silence and regular silence.

Stunned silence is the start of a reaction. It's a period of processing what happened. At some point, stunned silence is replaced by some sort of outburst—a physical or audible reaction.

If you get only silence—even if it's accompanied by a smile and a dropped jaw—that's just normal silence. If it's not followed by another reaction, the smile and the dropped jaw are there for your benefit because it's awkward for them to not say or do anything. So they'll do the least they can and move on.

The key is to not interrupt the silence. If it's genuine stunned silence then the reaction will only build from there. Don't step on it. If it's regular silence, and they move on to something else, you'll know the trick is perhaps not as strong as you imagined.

Stunned Silence

You: "And here is the coin!"

Them: [Silence... Mouth open... Silence... Silence] "W-w-wait... no way... the coin was— wait. What the fuck? Are you kidding me?"

Regular Silence

You: "And here is the coin!"

Them: [Silence... jaw dropped... smile.] "Okay... so what time is the movie?"

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Okay, I'm not too proud to admit I'm dumb. 

Someone please explain this James Thurber cartoon from a 1930s New Yorker for me. 

Is there a joke here? Is it funny? Or is it the type of thing that we're supposed to look at, chuckle, and say, "Oh, how wonderfully droll," as if we have some idea what it means?

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A goldmine of decks came for me in the mail this week.

First, from Chris Chelko, I received every version of the Whispering Imps decks that have been created. 

The original Whispering Imps deck is one of my favorite premium decks from the past five years, and many of these variations are quite rare. I can't wait to practice my mercury card fold with them.

I also received my first batch of Magic Neko decks from my friend, and frequent Jerx collaborator, Stasia Burrington.

The artwork is amazing and the little "oracle guide" that comes with it is rife with presentational possibilities for magicians and readers. 

Right after I got them in the mail, I went to a cafe near me to grab a coffee and go through the deck. Literally within 18 seconds of sitting down, the girl sitting next to me turned and said, "Oooh, what are those?" And with that, a trick ensued. 

Any prop that gets the other person to initiate the interaction is wildly valuable to the social magician.

(In Recognition of) The Best Rubik's Cube Trick

This is the final post before my summer break. Regular posting will begin again on Friday the 13th. (Spooky.)

The Summer edition of the X-Communication newsletter will be sent to subscribers on the 17th.

I'll always remember how much fun we had in Mr. Mitchell's class. 

One more year! Class of '19. Next year we RULE THE SCHOOL!

Have a bitchin' summer.

--Andy

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In the last post, I wrote about how inconceivable improbabilities can sometimes cause some spectators to disengage from the trick. In recent years, the most popular trick that falls into the "inconceivable improbability" category is the Rubik's Cube matching effect. There are a bunch of different ones on the market. The one I use is Perfect Square by JB Dumas and Michael Lam. Why that one? Well, because they gave me one for free when it first came out. (Otherwise I probably never would have done the effect as it's not the sort of thing that immediately appeals to me.)

For the most part, everyone's presentation for a Rubik's matching trick is the same. "Did you know there are 43 quintillion different combinations a cube can be mixed up in?" Then they go on to try and break that number down in a way that is equally inconceivable. "If every star in the sky was a human, and those humans had as many hands as there are grains of sand on the beach, and if each hand mixed up a Rubik's cube into a different combination once per second for as long as the universe has existed... you still would be 118 combinations short of 43 quintillion."

It's like, ok dude, we get it. There are a lot of combinations. Get to the trick.

I wanted a way to perform the trick that was less of a math lecture and more of a profound weirdness. I also didn't want to tip the ending too much by emphasizing how many different combinations there were. And I wanted a way to naturally "fall" into the trick. When you bring out two Rubik's cube and start giving a dissertation on combinatorics, you're doing a lot to strip away the "magic" of the whole thing. When the interaction feels completely pre-planned you weaken the strength of the magic moment. 

What follows is the presentation I've been using for over six months. It uses a Hook to make the encounter feel more spontaneous. I don't go into this effect if they don't notice and comment on the hook. (But, there are a number of different hooks in my home, so even if they don't pick up on this one, they're likely to find another one that will allow me to roll into a different effect in a very organic way.)

Imagine

My friend Jessica is visiting my place for the first time and I'm giving her a quick tour. She doesn't mention the book titled How To Converse With Spirit Friends on my end table. She doesn't mention the old Polaroid camera on my dresser. But as we settle back into my living room, one of my Hooks does catch when she points at something on a shelf opposite us.

"What's that?" she asks. "Did you win a trophy for doing the Rubik's cube?"

I give an embarrassed laugh. "Ah... no not quite. I found that in some old stuff at my mom's house. I was in a Rubik's cube solving competition at the mall in the mid-80s when I was little. I didn't come close to winning it. But everyone ended up getting a trophy for some made-up reason so no one felt bad. I can't even remember what mine was for. Something bizarre. But it was just like...you know... a participation trophy ultimately. I thought it would be funny to put it up like I was really proud of it."

"Can you solve one?" she asks.

"Uhm, yeah, sure. I still play around with them. I'm not super fast. But I can solve it in a couple minutes. Want to see?" 

I open the drawer on the end-table next to my side of the couch and dig around for a moment and pull out a solved Rubik's cube.

"Here, mix this up," I say and toss her the cube. 

We talk a bit more and then I ask for the cube back and she holds it out to me. 

I go to take it from her and then freeze. "What the...."

I look at her cube a little more, then I turn and look at the one resting on the trophy on the shelf across the room. "You've got to be shitting me," I say. I walk across the room and return with the trophy and cube. I take the cube off the top and put the trophy on the coffee table. "Let me see," I say, and extend my hand for the cube she's holding. I take it with my left hand and put it side by side with the other cube. 

"You're not going to believe this," I say. "So, there are like... I don't know... billions and billions of combinations a cube can be mixed up in. But check this out... This side matches. And so does this one. And this one. And this one. And... they all match." I give her the cube from the top of the trophy. 

"Oh waaaaiiit," I say, and stare off into the distance a bit. "Shit! Now this thing makes sense!" I set my cube off to the side and pick up the trophy and spin it around to reveal the inscription.

In Recognition of the World's Greatest Coincidence.

Okay, the method has already been stated but let me point out some other details about what's going on here and what I love about this trick.

A Perfect Hook - The best hooks are those that are unusual enough to encourage your spectator to comment on them, but also things that aren't so odd that they scream, "This is for a magic trick." If you leave out a Tenyo trick, that might cause someone to ask about it and get you into the trick, but it's also obvious that that's why you left it out. A trophy off on a shelf somewhere isn't an obvious set-up, but at the same time, it's something many people will notice and comment on. 

The Real vs The Feel - Bringing out two Rubik's cubes and talking about probabilities feels pre-planned and set-up and the boundaries of the effect are well established. The fact that you're talking about all the different combinations shows that you already know where things are going. This presentation, on the other hand, feels much more spontaneous and natural. The boundaries are blurred. At the end they will surely understand on some level that you choreographed this interaction. And that's fine because it still felt like an organic amazing experience. When did the trick start? When they themselves brought up the trophy on the shelf? As a spectator, if you feel like you instigated the action to come, it's going to feel very authentic, even when you know certain elements of it are theater. 

Presentation - Talking about being at a Rubik's cube solving contest at a mall in the mid-80s is 43 quintillion times more interesting than talking about the mathematics behind the cube. In real life, when performing this, I flesh out that image a little and give some more details about how KB Toys had put on this event and there were dozens of kids there and it was out near the fountain by the food court. Or whatever. Paint a picture. If you're too young to go with that exact patter, well, I feel sorry for you. Being a kid in the 80s/90s was sweet. You could say it's your dad's trophy, or come up with a contest in a time that would be more era appropriate for you. But seriously, you missed out. The mall used to be real dope.

The Move - The nice thing about the Perfect Square move is that it's very quick and smooth. Yes, you can see something unusual if you know what you're looking for and you're staring directly at it when it happens. But under real circumstances, it's imperceptible.

And it's particularly deceptive in this case for two main reasons. The first is that you do the move when they're not looking at the cubes. The second, and more important reason is, at this point they don't even know they're seeing a trick.

So I grab the gimmicked cube off the trophy, take the mixed up cube from the spectator and place them side by side. It's at the point where I say, "So there are like... billions and billions of combinations the cube can be mixed in,"—and my friend is looking at my face, and not the cubes—that I do the move. It's invisible. 

The Clean-Up: You never really know how things are going to go in a casual performance situation. It's not like a professional magic show where you're expected to control the audience. In social magic, the minute you start "managing your audience," you're forfeiting the whole casual feeling of the interaction. And that "casual feeling" is the element that makes social magic so powerful.

When I came up with this idea I wondered if the other person would immediately reach for the cubes so they could see for themselves if they matched up. I didn't want to say, "No! You can't look at these!" So here is how I routined it so that doesn't happen

1. When I'm showing the sides of the cubes as matching, I don't rush the first few sides. I want it to be completely clear what they're seeing. 
2. After showing the sides matching, I hand them the cube that was on top of the trophy. They've already handled the initial cube, so they know that's normal. Now they get to handle this one and see it's normal too. 
3. At that point they might be inclined to grab my cube so they can compare for themselves, but just at this moment I draw their attention to the trophy, and I set the cube I'm holding to my side on the couch. The trophy now becomes the focus of attention.
4. After the reveal on the trophy I bring back the Rubik's cube from my side, minus the gimmick. (I stuff that back behind a pillow when I get a chance.) Now they have two normal Rubik's cubes to look at. 

I know what you're thinking: "Wait... they can examine the cubes, but the cubes don't match anymore." True, but my theory was that if you initially showed that a few sides matched very slowly and cleanly, then you could speed up for the final few sides. I don't mean you rush through them, but you go at a pace that says, "Yes, of course the sides match too." At this point I don't think there is an intense desire for the participant to look at the cubes for themselves. At least not to see if they match. The "matching" aspect has already been proven. And given that there are six sides and four orientations for each side, it's not immediately apparent they don't still match.  So if there's suspicion about the cubes, I think the suspicion is that maybe the one on the trophy wasn't normal (but that's the one they were given to look at right after). And now the other cube is out to be examined too. So everything seems very clean at this point.

I've shown this trick to 7 or 8 people and while they've all looked over the cubes at the end, only two have said, "Hey, these don't match." But I'm not bothered when they do. It's actually a good thing, because then I get to extend the trick with another magical moment. 

I take the cubes back from them and say, "What do you mean? We just saw they matched." So imagine I'm sitting to their right on the couch. I take the cubes from them. My left hand holds the cube they originally mixed. My right hand holds the pre-set cube that was in the gimmick. I compare the two cubes together then start rotating the cubes in my hands to find the matching sides. But then, out of nowhere, one of the cubes is perfectly solved. 

Of course, what happens is that while my left hand rotates its cube, my right hand is doing the one-handed solve. But it doesn't come off as a one-handed solve. The right hand is obscured by the left. So it looks like I was just turning the cubes in my hand, looking for matching sides and one cube just became solved. 

"Wait...,"I say. "This wasn't like this before, was it?" And I hand both cubes to the other person. "This is some weird shit, right?"

Again, it's not a demonstration of your ability to solve a cube with one hand. It's just supposed to be this bizarre transformation that occurs out of nowhere. This is a strong magical moment. The reason I don't do it every time (and only do it when they notice the cubes no longer match) is because I believe that structurally it's better to end with the trophy. 

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Happy 4th of July to my fellow Americans.

The TIT

This is Part Two of of last week's Dear Jerxy post. In that post, I wrote about The Unmoved, a group of people who just don't react to magic in a way that makes performing for them satisfying. That's not to say you need your audience to lick your balls after every performance—I know a number of people who enjoy magic immensely but their reactions are low-key and subtle. The Unmoved aren't just quiet reactors, they are people who hang onto non-explanations as a way of not engaging with the effect. They're fooled by the tricks, but instead of letting the experience of the trick affect them and reacting positively, they say things like, "You must have done something," "Magicians have some way of doing that," "It was just a trick." These statements are an odd combination of "true" and "immensely stupid."

In last week's post I mentioned that because of my style of performing and attitude, I don't really have to deal with this type of spectator much. 

But here's something that does happen to me from time to time. I'll have someone who does enjoy the tricks I'm showing them. They're reacting appropriately and having no problem embracing the mystery. They're fully engaged. Then I do a trick that I know is a really strong trick with a good presentation and it gets a minimal or muted reaction. 

I can't blame the audience because they have a history of being a "good" spectator. 

So it must be the material, yes? It's must not be a good trick. But that's not the issue either, because it tends to happen with some of the strongest tricks I know. 

I think this is possibly the issue that "Hopeless in Halifax" was dealing with too, because the two tricks he mentioned ("Dear Penthouse Forum" by me, and "Amaze" by Seth Raphael) are two very strong tricks. I've received killer reactions with both.

Ah... but that may also be the problem.

You see, I'm not a big believer in the Too Perfect Theory. In 100s of hours testing magic effects and 1000s of hours performing, I've never seen a response to an effect that suggested, "The weakness of this trick is that it's too perfect." That seems like a concern borne out of magic theorizing, not actual performing.

However, I am a believer in The TIT. 

The TIT is the Too Inconceivable Theory.

The Too Inconceivable Theory suggests that there are some tricks where the impossibility of the effect is just too vast for some people to wrap their mind around and, in response, they just sort of shut down when presented with that kind of trick. 

The first thing about this we need to keep in mind is: There is not a perfect correlation between impossibility and the amazement/reaction of your spectator. In fact, sometimes they're not correlated at all.

A Thought Experiment.

I have to admit, I haven't done this for real yet (that's what makes it a thought experiment—if someone want's to put up the funding to test this, I'd be happy to) but I'm pretty confident in what the results would be.

Imagine two tricks.

Trick #1 - I bring out a sheet of paper that has a grocery list of 20 items on it. I also bring out a paper bag with something in it. I ask someone to name one of the items. They do, and I open up the paper bag to reveal that item.

Trick #2 - I bring out a sheet of paper that has a grocery list of 20 items on it. I also bring out twenty coupons for each item on the list. I ask someone to mix up the coupons and then deal them out in a row. When they do it's found that they've arranged the coupons in the exact order the items are on the list.

Which do you think gets a stronger reaction? I would guess it's probably the first one. Or at least they'd be very close. 

But how can this be when the first trick is a 1 in 20 occurrence and the second trick is a 1 in 2.5 quintillion occurrence (2,432,902,008,176,640,000, to be precise)?

Because, as I said, reactions are not always correlated to impossibility. 

An Actual Experiment

Here's something we did once in our focus group testing about two years ago. It wasn't the main focus of our testing and we only did it to either 20 (or maybe 24) people. And, in truth, the findings weren't statistically significant. But in this case the lack of statistically significant findings is what made it interesting. 

A Rubik's cube matching effect was the trick. We performed it for half the people using typical patter of "43 quintillion different combinations" etc. etc. Then we performed it for the other half of the people with patter that said, "There are almost 1000 different combinations that the cube can be arranged in." At the end, the spectators rated the tricks on how "amazing or impossible" they seemed and both versions scored the same. (Actually, on a scale of 1 to 10, the one where we downplayed the impossibility averaged two decimal points higher than the other. I don't remember the raw numbers, and I don't have them in front of me, but it was something like 8.8 and 9.0. But the point is there was essentially no difference.)

So What Does It Mean?

This has been my experience...

Most people's reaction to an effect will be somewhat correlated to the impossibility of an effect to a point, and then it plateaus.

For most people, you're not going to get much more mileage out of a one in billion chance than you would out of a one in a thousand chance.

But there is a certain percentage of the population, maybe 10%, where the reaction doesn't just plateau, it actually drops down significantly. When the impossibility of an effect becomes too great to conceive of, they just disengage. They can't appreciate the effect. And they'll resort to the non-explanations discussed above.

For them, the graph would look something like this.

I kind of think "amazement" can operate in the same way as pain for people. For the most part, the more pain we're in, the greater our reaction is. But for some people, when the pain gets too much, their body shuts down and doesn't process the pain. They go into shock and become numb to it. It's not a perfect analogy, but I think it's something similar.

An Analogy

If you're not understanding why this might be, think of it like this... Imagine you took someone to go mountain climbing. You stand at the foot of the mountain. "This mountain is 1000 times your size," you tell them.

"I feel so small!" they say. 

"If that makes you feel small," you say, "check this out." Then you show them a gif of the scale of the universe.

And you think, Well, they felt so dwarfed by the size of this mountain, they're definitely going to be totally blown away by this gif.

And instead they're like, "Oh yeah. Neat."

Why aren't they significantly more moved by this gif which shows the reality of how cosmically small they are than they were by this mountain which is something they could climb in an afternoon?

Because, the mountain is real and present and tangible. The scale of the universe, on the other hand, is inconceivable. 

Similarly, choosing one out of 20 postcards feels like a real, tangible choice. Shuffled decks and mixed-up Rubik's cubes may have possibilities in the quintillions or more, but that's all theoretical. So it doesn't feel like a choice amongst distinctly different elements that you can truly conceive of.

How to Handle This

An effect I used to perform a lot was Paul Harris' Bat Fishing where eight cards from a shuffled deck match the serial number on a borrowed bill. I didn't use the same method as he does in Art of Astonishment, but it was the same effect. Most of the time, this was a total mind-fuck. But then there was that 1 in 10 time where they wouldn't seem to process it. 

So how would I win them back? 

I would go into an effect that was an outright impossibility. What do I mean by that? I mean something that is impossible as opposed to just wildly unlikely. A matching shuffled deck effect is a one in a shit-tonillion chance, but a color changing deck is something that is a complete impossibility. You want to go with the complete impossibility.

Why would they react better to a complete impossibility if a one in a billion effect is too much to handle? Because this isn't the Too Impossible Theory, it's the Too Inconceivable Theory. People don't have a problem conceiving of a 1 in 100 shot. And people have no problem conceiving something being impossible.  In my experience, it's when something is in that grey area between "improbable" and "completely impossible" that I think some people's reactions can falter because they don't have a full grasp on the nature of the impossibility. 

In Summary

So, let me bring it back to Hopeless' question from last week where he asks:

Regarding "you're a magician you can make me do anything," is this a barrier you've experienced or had any luck breaking down?

To summarize my two posts about this...

• A muted reaction of "Well, I guess you're a magician and you can make me do anything," suggests they were fooled but not moved by the trick.
• If you know your presentation is strong (based on other performances) then it's likely that type of response is a form of a Non-Explanation, which is a default way some people will dismiss a trick rather than engage with the mystery.
• If you find they respond to all tricks that way, then you've have found someone who is not comfortable with the unknown and they will likely never be a good audience for your magic. 
• On the other hand, If you find they enjoy some tricks but resort to a non-explanation/become Unmoved with vast improbabilities, it's possible that they check out when confronted with things that are too inconceivable. Stick with effects that are more immediately comprehensible: either pure impossibilities or more conceivable improbabilities.

Gardyloo #64

Well, this is pretty delightful...

On Wednesday, I wrote up the Harmony Ritual, a trick I performed last weekend for a woman named Elena who I met at a resort in the Catskills. 

A couple days ago she called and left me a message. She wanted to tell me that her first day at her new job had gone well. And then she said something I found very interesting. Here is an excerpt from the voicemail. (The audio quality isn't great, it's out of context, and she speaks with an accent, so I'll transcribe it after.)

If you didn't catch that, she says, "I actually did the ritual last night and it was balanced again."

That's right. A few days after we were together, she went and performed Miraskill on herself. This is classic smear technique type of stuff, where the boundaries of the effect become blurred past the performance itself. It's the type of magic that's really only possible when you shift the focus off yourself. Do I think she really believes that this is some magic ritual? No. But you establish the effect in such a way that you allow for harmless fantastical beliefs. It's like wishing on your birthday candles or throwing a coin in a fountain. In our heads we know it's nonsense, but in our hearts we play along.

---

There's a trick I do regularly that requires me to know what ESP symbol a spectator is thinking of. A set of marked ESP cards definitely seems like the easy way to get the information, and it is. But this is something I want to do in casual situations and carrying around ESP cards is decidedly not casual. And while drawing out the symbols on business cards or something else at hand is an okay option, it would require a more "hands on" technique to know which symbol they chose.

So I thought about maybe creating a drawing app where you could have them draw one of the symbols and the app would "decode" what they drew and signal it to you in some way. But after thinking about that idea it felt too complicated both programmatically and logistically. (Most people don't know the ESP shapes, so I'd have to write them down first, and if I'm writing them down then clearly there's something to write with, so why am I having them draw on an app?)

Better yet, I thought, if I could just have them look at the symbols on a website and somehow know which one they were looking at, that would seem ultra-fair.

And I realized I had essentially worked my way around to another use for my pal Marc Kerstein's app Xeno.

So I emailed him and said, "Make this for me!" And he was like, "Y-y-y-y-yes sir. Anything for you, sir." (Dude's a total puss.) And now it's available in the app.

Xeno is an app that allows you to know what a spectator is looking at on a series of different websites. (The sites include lists of movies, songs, names, astrological signs and now the ESP symbols.) The nice thing about it is you don't have to touch their phone and they don't have to make any type of selection on their screen. They just look at something on the page. 

I told Marc I'd write the copy for the ESP symbol site. With only five symbols, it might not make sense for you to send someone to a special website. Why not just rattle them off and have them think of one? And why does this site exist in the first place? Why would someone start a site to just list five ESP symbols? Well, they wouldn't, of course. 

So I wanted to have a site that justified its own existence and justified why you had people go to this particular site (and not Wikipedia or something). With that goal in mind, I wrote up a site that is, supposedly, designed to help people increase their ability to transmit and receive ESP symbols. The author of the site has found that by concentrating on the unique physical and symbolic attributes of the shapes, your success at transmitting them will increase significantly. So next to each shape there is a little write-up in regards to how to think about that shape to increase the success of transmission.

This justifies why you needed them to go to that specific site, and why you need them to scroll and look at their particular shape (so they can read the entry that goes along with it). 

The nice thing is, because the site tells them how to think about the symbol, you can act as if you're picking up on more than just the shape. You can pick up on the features they're thinking of or the symbolic meanings. 

As I said, I wanted to have this site so I could perform a trick that normally involved carrying ESP cards with me. But honestly, I'll probably use this site even when I'm doing an effect that requires me to have ESP cards. If you do any of the effects out there where a spectator "reads your mind" with ESP cards, this would be a good lead in because you can quickly and unequivocally read their mind and then wave it off as if it's no big deal, "Oh, I do that all the time. What I really want to try is to get you to do it." Then you can have them scan through the rest of this site and the site becomes something of an "imp" or a "buy-in." This site—which suggests the manner in which you think about the shapes is important—adds an interesting layer to what might be seen as "obviously just a trick." Why did he have me read that page if this is just a trick? Is there maybe more to it?

And finally, here's the choreography for this. You bring out your phone and say, "I want you to look at something before we start." Then you change your mind. "Actually, can you go to this site on your phone?" You tell them the site, and drop your hand with the phone to your side where it's forgotten. They go to the site and you sidle up next to them to look at the screen with them. While in this position you do the first part of your dirty work. Don't read the whole introductory text with them. Just summarize it for them. "Ok. So this guy thinks he's come up with a way to increase the success of transmitting ESP symbols. I've tried it and actually does seem to work better. Think of one of those shapes." You step away. They tell you they have one in mind. You turn your back and tell them to scroll down to where it describes how to project that shape. They do that. You do what you need to and put your phone away and you're good to go.

---

In the last post I compared what my mind sees as the "obviousness" of the method of Miraskill to using a microwave to vanish an ice cube. Well, as it turns out, that analogy was perhaps more apropos than I thought because what I see as "obvious" in both cases seems to not be the case. Miraskill fools people and ice doesn't melt in the microwave. (Well, it will eventually, but not like you'd expect.)

I think I would have fallen for this if it was presented as a trick. You put a glass of water and a glass of ice in your microwave. You microwave it on high for a minute. While it's going, you tell me about this primo ice you've been buying. "I have it shipped in from Holland. It's super high quality." When the timer dings, the water is now hot (proving the microwave works) but the ice hasn't melted at all.

If you find some really dumb person who's super into health food, you can tell them that it's the purest ice in the world ("because, as you can see, it's impervious to outside radiation"). Then sell them a tray of cubes for $62.

---

I'm psyched for my friend and frequent Jerx collaborator, Stasia Burrington's forthcoming deck of playing/oracle cards, The Magic Neko deck which is available for pre-order now.

Now I've got a message for some of my younger male readers. About 15 or so years ago, Ellusionist put out something called the Black Tiger Deck. It was a black deck of playing cards and on the box there was a tiger who was...like... flexing or some shit? Like he was in a pose that no tiger has ever been in.

It was the epitome of Ellusionist's corniness. And I have no doubt they made a mint off these decks because Ellusionist knows their audience. A bunch of virgins definitely bought the deck thinking they'd take it to school and girls would be breathlessly fanning themselves, "Who is this sexy bad-boy with this black deck of cards with the super-ripped tiger on the case? I can't wait to get to know this virile rebel!"

Here's the deal, you want a girl to pay attention to you? Don't get the deck of cards that says, "I'm compensating for my low testosterone." Get Stasia's deck. Women (and men) of all ages are taken with her esthetic. You keep that out on the lunch table. A girl picks it up and oohs and ahhs over its cuteness. She asks why you have the deck. You say a friend of a friend designed it. (I'm your friend. Stasia's my friend. It's true enough.) And you grabbed it today because there's something you're working on with it. Then you point out that the case says it can be used as an oracle deck and there's this little fortune-telling ritual you'd like to try. Cute drawings, kittens, fortune-telling rituals: you'll be a girl magnet. 

Then do a trick in the guise of a fortune-telling routine. Make it positive. Don't be like, "Uhhhh... I think you're going to get cancer." There should be some sort of magic surprise/coincidence at the end. Don't take credit for it. Blame the deck or the universe or her "energy." Don't make it something about you or your "compatibility" with her. Too soon. When you're done, don't do any more tricks. Tell her you have to get going and excuse yourself. Be a little mysterious.Before you go, imply you might have something else you're working on that you'd like to show her in the future. "You have a very unique energy," you say. Then go on your way. Just plant the seed, baby. Trust me. I'll Cyrano your ass into going to prom with the head cheerleader if you just have a little faith.

The Harmony Ritual aka (I've Had) The Time of My Life

Imagine

This past weekend I was up in the Catskill Mountains of New York at a resort with some friends. If you've ever seen Dirty Dancing, it was kind of like that. There was swimming and boating and shuffleboard. I carried a watermelon. I put baby in a corner. There were lots of old-folks doddering around, but also a contingent of younger people as well breathing some new life into these resorts in the mountains. And yes, there was even some late night dancing going on. Sadly, it didn't quite get as "dirty" as I had hoped (my kind offer to "fist someone during a Viennese Waltz" got no takers).

In all seriousness, it was a legitimately fun time. I loved it, but I'm pretty easy to please. It was nice to be around a bunch of people who were primarily interacting with each other and not their phones. I know I sound 100 years old, but I am finding increasing value in real human interaction. And that is one of the primary benefits of magic as a leisure activity: it demands people engage in the moment.

On our first night there, the group I was with met the people who were staying in the cabin next to ours. They were four friends in their late-20s/early-30s who had come up for a few days from NYC. They were all cool people, but I particularly hit it off with one of the women in the group whose name was Elena. She was from Portugal originally, had chin-length dark hair and her wardrobe seemed to only consist of shift dresses and bikinis (the former she would peel off to reveal the latter whenever the sun was out). She told really inappropriate jokes but would then giggle so sweetly afterwards that it was impossible to take offense. I was completely charmed by her.

On the second night there, she and I were hanging out on the couch in the small bungalow my group was staying in. She knew I did some magic and had seen a couple quick tricks in the past two days. Now I was telling her about a related interest I had in old fortune-telling games and other different little rituals that were passed down from generation to generation. I told her there was one I had just learned the details of and I asked her if she'd like to try it. She smiled and clapped her hands in front of her heart. She was in.

I went to my bag and grabbed a few things: a piece of paper with some writing on it, a deck of cards, and a little amethyst crystal. 

I came back and set those items between us on the couch. 

I gave her the deck of cards and asked her to shuffle it. 

"I learned this from an old Romanian fortune-teller who was my friend's aunt. She showed me all sort of interesting things. She read my coffee grounds. Have you heard of reading tea leaves? In Romania they read coffee grounds. But this was the most interesting thing she showed me." 

"It's called a Harmony Ritual. And what it's supposed to do is identify an area of imbalance or stress in your life, and then rebalance you and put you in the proper headspace to handle that area."

I read the hand-written instructions I had which told her to take the deck she shuffled and cut it into four packets and place them in a diamond pattern. She was to take one packet and touch it to her head and replace it, she was to touch the next packet to her heart, the next to her stomach, and last to her groin. "Romanians believed these were the four areas that needed to be in balance to confront any issue. The head/intellect, the heart/compassion, the stomach/'hunger,' and the groin/passion."

The instructions then had her shuffle all the packets together and mix the deck as much as she wanted. Things were heating up...

Okay, let's pause here for a moment and get into the method. I know we haven't really even hit what the effect is yet, but it will make more sense this way because (most of you) already know the method.

Method

What I'm performing for her here is Miraskill. (If you don't know how to do Miraskill, go crack a book. This blog isn't here to teach classic card tricks.) 

The interesting thing about this is that it's Miraskill without any predictions.

I know what you're thinking, "Andy....You're WILD!" (Ugh... why am I wasting all these great Dirty Dancing references on you bozos? I need more chicks in my readership.)

A reader, N.R., had written me with the idea of doing Miraskill as part of a ritual or reading of sorts. So instead of two predictions, you would do the first round and the disparity between reds and blacks would be indicative of some kind of imbalance. Then you'd enact some ritual and, in the next round, reds and blacks would be even, indicating some increased balance or harmony.

I really liked the idea but I thought it could be stronger and more personal. You see, with the traditional Miraskill, you have two rounds that are essentially identical. You make two predictions and they come true. With N.R.'s version there was no "effect" in the first round. It just established a baseline. The second round demonstrated the "balance" that the ritual had restored.

What I wanted to do was use the first round to "diagnose" an area of imbalance in the person's life, and the second round to suggest that area of imbalance had been addressed in some way.

How do I mean?

Well, imagine you have a friend who is going through a rough spot in her love life and you want to give her a little psychological boost.

So you go through the first round of the trick with her. At the bottom of the instructions you've written down, there is a "key" to decoding the results of the process.

+2 Red = Imbalance regarding family
+4 Red = Imbalance regarding job/changing career
+6 Red = Imbalance regarding friends/social circle
+2 Black = Imbalance regarding health
+4 Black = Imbalance regarding love/romantic relationships
+6 Black = Imbalance regarding finances

Now, of course, you just set up the first round so the outcome relates to the issue the person is having in her real life. When that round is over she counts up the cards and comes up with 4 more blacks than reds. You consult your notes. "Okay... what does that mean... alright, it looks like that means there's an issue with your romantic relationships." Bingo! It's as if the cards have accurately honed in on an issue she's struggling with. 

You don't have to secretly find out what someone's biggest concern is. You just learn it from your normal interaction with them. The trick isn't weakened if they know you know what their issue is. It's not a trick about your skill, it's a trick about this weird old ritual. That's the fun part.

And I think this version naturally addresses a weakness of the method better than the traditional effect does. When Miraskill is performed as a prediction, it doesn't make complete sense that your prediction is the difference between reds and blacks. If you really knew what would happen, why not say 12 reds and 8 blacks or whatever? But in this version, the whole premise is about imbalance, so it make sense that we are just talking about the difference between the two.

Okay, let's get back to my night with Elena so you can see how I finish this off...

Elena deals out the cards in pairs. She ends up with four more red cards than black cards.

"Okay... four more red cards. Let's see," I say as I consult my notes. "Okay, that means you're feeling an imbalance in regards to work or your career."

"Does it really say that?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, and showed her the paper. 

"Oh. That's very true," she said. "Remember I was telling you about my new job?"

"Ooohhh... yeah... I think so," I said, as if searching my brain. The night before, in a conversation with a bigger group, she had mentioned starting a new job with a fashion design company. And she was very nervous about it because it involved communicating with a lot of different people, both in the office and around the world, and she was self-conscious about her accent and her English speaking ability. 

"Well, let's do the second part of the ritual, and see if anything comes of it," I said.

I gave Elena the crystal and had her trace a line down her body from head to groin, connecting the four different areas. 

"There's nothing magical about the crystal," I told her. "It just gives you something to focus on. You could use an olive if you wanted."

We did some quick breathing and visualization exercises. (If you can't palm in some cards while someone has their eyes closed doing some visualization exercises, you're useless.)

Then we did a second round of the ritual. She cut the deck in four, shuffled it all up, etc. etc. 

And lo and behold, this time, the reds and the blacks were in perfect balance. What are the odds of that? (It's 100%.)

She smiled at me. "It's all balanced!" she said.

"Do you feel more balanced?" I asked.

She thought for a moment. "I do," she said. "What does it all mean?"

"Well," I said, "when the ritual works—like it has here— they say that it means you should be in a much better state of mind to tackle whatever the issue was that wasn't in balance. So, I know you were concerned about your new job, and those concerns still exist. But now you should be in a better mindset to deal with that issue."

She smiled at me again and began to straighten up the piles of cards with her thin finger. "Yes," she said. "This is good. This is good."

Now, I know some will say, "This is manipulative because there isn't really a 'harmony' ritual and you don't really help these people and blah, blah." Look, I get where you're coming from, but have some perspective. I'm not lying to someone about their dead grandmother talking to them or saying I can see their future or telling them I can cure their cancer or whatever. In fact, I'm not really lying to them at all about the outcome of the "ritual." The truth is, if they believe it will put them in a better mindset, it will. And if they don't believe it, it doesn't matter. That's a little loophole I've found. 

How do I know this little white lie isn't a big deal? Because, I wouldn't give a shit if you "exposed" it. If you said to someone after I did it, "You know, there isn't really any 'harmony ritual,' he just made that up to make you feel better about that concern you had." Their response would be, "Oh, that's sweet." I think it's pretty clear that you're just trying to be helpful.

I should mention that I really dislike Miraskill. And I dislike it because I don't understand why it fools anyone. The underlying "math" seems almost pre-school in nature to me. And that's why I don't like the trick. Not because I think the effect is awful, I'm just confused why people are fooled by it. It would be like if there was a trick to vanish an ice cube in the microwave. And you'd be like, "That's not a trick, that's obvious." But somehow it was a classic that fooled people. That's what I don't like about it.

On top of that, I'm not a huge fan of the structure of the routine. It's usually done in two phases which is kind of unsatisfying (usually one or three phases is more structurally pleasing). And often the phases are essentially identical. Which, again, isn't really great routining. 

I realize the presentation given above isn't going to appeal to all of you. But for me, and my performance situations, it's damn near perfect. It solves the structural issues I have with the original, shifts the focus off me, and makes the trick 1000 times more personal. Thanks again to N.R., for sending me in this direction. And if you don't like it, you can wackle all you wanna, you can wackle while I walk away

away

away

awayyyyyyy!

Dear Jerxy: The Unmoved, Part One

Dear Jerxy: Recently I've been getting a lot of mileage out of Dear Penthouse Forum [Ed. Note: This is a story deck trick from The Jerx, Volume 1] but there are three people that I regularly interact with who all said the same thing to me afterwards: that even though they handled the deck, I forced them to shuffle it exactly how I wanted, like that's a perfectly normal thing that magicians can do and their wonder sort of ends there. I don't mind them coming to the explanation that I can control every card that they shuffle, but I would hope they would just dismiss that as crazy. Apparently it's not so crazy.

I've had a similar thing with Seth Raphael's Amaze, where, despite being in another room, I've had the same people say that I made them pick a particular maze. They said it flippantly, like it was obvious. When I pressed them for answers I got "that's just what magicians do, they get inside your head and force you to do things." 

I know this is pretty much the Non-Explanation [Ed. Note: See this post for a discussion of the "Non-Explanation"] but it feels a bit different. "It's just a trick" is pretty similar to "magicians can do that sort of stuff," but they're not dismissing it as a trick, they're assuming I (and all magicians) have some ability that I don't have, and I don't want that. It feels like they just assume magicians can do anything. 

So, regarding "you're a magician you can make me do anything," (which is not an attitude I've actively tried to foster, nor one I would necessarily expect from educated, intelligent people, maybe they've watched too much Derren Brown) is this a barrier you've experienced or had any luck breaking down?

Signed,
Helpless in Halifax

Dear Helpless: First, let me say, I don't have a solution for this, but I do have some thoughts on it. 

I think the reaction you describe here is definitely related to the "non-explanation" I've talked about in the past (see the definition here). And it may be closer than you realize. "I don't know how you did it, but obviously it's a trick," and, "I don't know how you did it, but magicians have ways of doing these things," are essentially the same thing. The first is probably something you hear more with a physical magic trick, the second with a mental effect. And even if they're not the same, I think they're both symptoms of the same issues. 

The question is, what is going on when you have a good trick, the person you perform for is interested in the trick, the person is fooled by the trick, but they don't really react to the trick? We all understand why a bad trick might not get a good reaction, but why does it sometimes happen with a strong trick that fooled them?

There are two angles we need to look at this from. I'm going to look at the first issue now and the second in a future post. 

The first thing we need to look at is your audience.

Audience

I'm not sure what the actual breakdown is, but in my experience about 15% of people are truly undiscriminating about magic. They'll be into watching almost any kind of trick even if it's not that impressive or well done. 70% of people are not magic "fanatics" in that way, but they'll enjoy a good trick presented competently with an interesting premise. And the final 15% just can't let themselves get into magic on any level. They are The Unmoved. They may find certain aspects of your presentation interesting or funny, but when it comes to being moved by the "magic" of the trick, they're just not open to it. For these people, it's not a question of the quality of your effect/presentation, it's just not in their nature to allow themselves to be swept up in the experience. And, in fact, often the stronger the trick, the more they'll shut down.

Let's say you do a really good coin vanish. 85% of the world (the "reactors") will respond with "wow" or "that's awesome" or whatever. 15% (the Unmoved) will say, "Oh... it's just a trick." Both groups saw the same thing. Both groups had the same thought in their head: "He made it look like the coin vanished." The first group sees that as something to appreciate, but the second group's response seems to suggest that it's something to be dismissed if the coin didn't actually vanish.

I can't say I understand the psychology of the Unmoved. Maybe at some point in time they did truly "believe" in some trick they saw and they felt burned when they found out it was fake. Or maybe in a more general sense someone had them believing in something that wasn't true and they felt taken by the experience. Maybe they find a way to undermine anything someone does. If you were playing guitar maybe they'd say, "Yeah, but you didn't write that song." 

How do I deal with these people? I'll give some tips below, but in general I just don't perform for them.

What I consider to be one of the most useful posts I've ever written on this site—and one I reference often—is this one about my process of building up to immersive effects with people. By going through this type of progression, I'm able to weed out the Unmoved early on. And I never end up wasting a big, immersive trick on them.

Here is a truth to keep in mind that I've learned from all the performing I've done in recent years. Take this in, it will save you a lot of time and energy: If a person doesn't like a good trick, they will not like a great trick either.

If you do something that is objectively good, and they don't respond positively, don't think you can win them over with something better. You're just giving them more of something they're not into. If you meet someone who doesn't react positively to a good 1-minute shoulder rub, it's not because what they really want is an hour-long full-body massage, it's because they're just not into that type of interaction.

Is it possible to change the Unmoved?

Yes, sometimes, but it's not an effort I make. I have enough people who are enthusiastic aobut what I'm doing that I don't pursue the Unmoved. I treat them like cats. If they come to me I'll pet them, but I don't chase after them.

Again, the progression I linked to above (in the Bedrock: Outer Game post) is designed to work with magic fans as well as non-fans. If anything will coax the Unmoved into getting onboard, it will be that. 

When you start with the Peek Backstage style—when you say, "Can I get your thoughts on this trick I'm working on?"—you eliminate the response of, "That's just a trick" or "Mentalists just have a way to make you do that." It just wouldn't make sense in that context. If someone asked you to tell them if their drawing was realistic enough to pass as a photograph, it wouldn't make sense for you to respond, "Hey, that's not a photograph, it's a drawing!"

Moving into the Engagement Ceremony style allows you to shift focus off yourself and model the reaction you're looking for from your spectator. If, at this point, I get the sense the person doesn't appreciate magic, or at least the style of magic I want to perform, I just won't perform for them anymore.

If you do feel the need to try to "change" someone's response, one thing I've seen work in the past is to perform for someone who isn't into what you do along with someone who is really into what you do. Sometimes the fanatic can "infect" the Unmoved with their positive reaction to the magic. 

Sometimes though, the issue is not the audience. If, for example, they usually react very positively to your effects but for some reason they don't connect to certain tricks that you know should in theory be very strong, then there is something else going on. That is something I call The TIT. And I'll cover that in my next post on the subject.

Gardyloo #63

Oliver Meech, who knows a good plot when he sees one, wrote in with some thoughts on the phrenology presentation I've written about in the past couple of weeks. 

Your phrenology concept got me thinking back to my psychology degree. Apparently, there is indeed some localisation of brain function (though sadly only internally), but the borders between different parts of the brain aren't clearly defined, and vary from person to person. This means that when surgeons do brain surgery, they often keep the patient conscious. That way, they can ask them questions to make sure that if they're removing part of the brain (e.g. to treat severe epilepsy), then they know they're not accidentally removing something vital, like the language part.

Ok, enough neuro-nerding, how does this link to magic?

Well, rather than the pressing of bumps being binary (i.e. press = special ability, no press = no special ability) you could try pressing a few different areas of their head, to 'hone in' on the right area. They resulting special ability could then slowly appear.

For example, say you're doing Out of this World. You can have them try dealing 10 cards to separate the colours, turn the packets over, and they're just randomly mixed. 

Next, you prod different parts of their head, slowly moving from position to position, until you "feel you're getting close - let's check".

They try dealing another 10 cards and this time they get 8 out of 10 right.

Finally, you subtly adjust where you're pressing to find the 'bullseye', they deal another 10 and get them all right.

Method-wise, I'd probably use A New World, but I'm sure other methods would work too.

As before, you say that the effects are short-lived, remove your hands, and if they try to deal again then it's back to random luck.

TMS

As another approach, Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation (Wikipedia intro here) could be interesting, as it involves using strong magnets to temporarily interrupt normal brain function. Given how many people believed the popping-corn-with-mobile-phones video, and articles about mobiles 'cooking your brain', people might go for a presentation involving holding mobiles next to specific places on people's heads. Maybe with a pseudo-memory-loss trick, like Banachek's or Sankey's.

---

What follow is another card-coding system. This idea was submitted to me by JM Beckers. As I said in Wednesday's post, I think this is probably more interesting than it is usable at this point in time. At least it is for me it is, as it requires more calculating than I'd want to do on the fly. I don't trust myself to pull it off. But for some people it might come natural.

So I may be posting this more because of my interest in codes than my interest in using it in an effect, but it could definitely evolve into something. In fact you can use the basic structure of this to code anything (not just cards). And that's because you're not coding a card directly, you're using its number in a memorized stack to deconstruct the question you ask. So if you had a memorized list of anything you could use the same general format.

Here's how it works. The question is asked in this form:

"([Nothing]/Please) choose (a/one/any) ([Nothing]/poker/playing) card ([Nothing]/for me/for us.)"

I'll write out the steps, almost like it's a computer program.

Step 1. If the stack number is 27 or above, say "Please."

Step 2. Say "choose."

Step 3. If the stack number is 26 or below, that is your "working number." If the stack number is 27 or above, subtract 27 from the stack number and that is your "working number."

Step 4. Think how many times the number 9 fits into your working number. 

If 0 - say "a"
If 1 - say "one"
If 2 - say "any"

Step 5. Cast out the nines from your working number. The remainder is your new working number. For example, if your working number was 13, you'd cast out a 9. And the remainder, 4, is your new working number.

Step 6. Think how many times the number 3 fits into your new working number. 

If 0 - say nothing
If 1 - say "poker"
If 2 - say "playing"

Step 7. Say "card"

Step 8. Cast out the threes from your working number. The remainder is your new working number. For example, if your working number was 4, you'd cast out a single 3. And the remainder, one, is your new working number.

Step 9. Think how many times the number 1 fits into your new working number. 

If 0 - say nothing
If 1 - say "for me."
If 2 - say "for us."

So here's an example of the mental calculations. Let's say the spectator selects the Queen of Diamonds. That's 47 in your stack. You'll say, "Please," because it's over 27. You'll subtract 27 to get a working number of 20. Nine goes into 20 twice, so you'll say "any." The remainder is 2. Three doesn't go into 2 at all, so you won't say anything. The remainder is still two. The number 1 goes into that twice, so you'll say, "for us."

"Please choose any card for us."

Some other examples:

Stack number 1: "Choose a card for me."
Stack number 15: "Choose one playing card."
Stack number 27: "Please choose a card."
Stack number 35: "Please choose a playing card for us."
Stack number 52: "Please choose any playing card for me."

I think that's correct. Actually, just the act of writing this entry has cemented the system about 60% in my brain, so I'm sure if you put in the effort it wouldn't be that hard. The only thing I'm not 100% sold on is using the phrase "poker card." As that's not really a common phrase in English. I might swap the word "poker" for something else.

---

I'm thinking of having a new contest with a $100,000 prize. The contest is called, When Will the Magic Cafe Redesign Their Site? Whoever guesses the date will win the prize. I know that's a lot of money, but it doesn't really matter because I will be 1000 years dead in the ground before they redesign that site. It's been essentially unchanged for over 15 years. 

I was reminded of this the other week because one of the features that the Cafe still uses to this day showed up as the #1 post on the nostalgia subreddit. NOSTALGIA, Steve Brooks!

Actually, Steve probably understands better than I that if they update/redesign that site one iota, the spazzoids who occupy that site will flip out and start complaining. So he's probably wise not to.

---

What the F? Is this what you guys want? I feel like I'm really missing the mark here with the stuff I'm writing about. 

I mean, I don't want to commit to changing the format/content of the site permanently unless everyone is on board. I know, let's do six months of dust allergy posts and then see how we're all feeling about where things are at. Then will make the final decision after that.