Dustings of Woofle #9

Next week is Summer Break here at the Jerx. There won’t be any posting as I’ll be too busy having beach fun, baby!

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At the end of next week, the Summer 2019 issue of the X-Comm newsletter will be hitting supporters email boxes. If you think you should be receiving one and you don’t see it by Monday the 22nd, send me an email and we’ll sort it out.


I receive a number of requests to consult for people, including many people I respect in the magic industry. I generally turn them down because I’m not sure consulting for professional magicians is a great match for my skillset.

I tell people this and they say, “Oh, that doesn’t matter. I still want to hire you.”

I tell them that it won’t be cheap and they say, “That’s fine. I’ve worked with consultants before. I know they’re not cheap.”

I tell them my ideas tend to be a little idiosyncratic and probably won’t be useful to them. They say, “I understand, but let’s give it a shot.”

For the past few months I’ve been telling the people who asked me that I would soon be offering a short-term consulting service and would put details on the site. Well, I’m committing myself here to finally do that. When Summer Break ends there will be a post with the details of that service linking to a new page on the site where interested people can find out the details. (And I will probably try and continue to talk you out of the idea.)


I have a new policy in regards to using people’s names on this site. With professional magicians, I’ll generally use your full name. With non-pros, I’ll probably use your first name-last initial, or just initials (unless you tell me otherwise).

This isn’t to keep your identity secret from the readers. It’s to keep this site from showing up when someone googles your name. My friend Andrew, whose work I’ve featured here and in the books/magazine, was someone I used to refer to by his full name. But someone searched for his name and “magic” after seeing something he did and found this site. Of course, no one without an interest in magic would bother reading this site (most people with an interest in magic don’t bother reading the site), but I can understand not wanting your name and your performances coming back to a magic blog.

So that’s the policy going forward.


In Magic For Young Lovers there is a trick called CardLibs where you walk your spectator through a “fun new game” that you’ve created that turns out to be incredibly dull in a magical way.

Friend of the site, Max T. (Look guys, I’m using the new policy!) is a game developer and one of the creators of Cards Against Humanity. He went and printed the CardLibs prompts on official (official? whatever) Cards Against Humanity cards and sent me some.

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So now I can introduce it as a CAH variant that I’ve been chosen to beta-test. “It’s aimed at a younger audience, and it’s a game you can play by yourself or with a partner. It’s not a competitive game, really. It’s just a way to have some good clean silly fun!” Then you play the game and it turns out to be no fun at all.

Not only does this add a different level of credibility to the start of the effect (if that’s what you want). But because the prompts are on cards, and not sheets of paper, you could change up the handling so the spectator can “mix” the prompts in some way, or match them up with the playing cards or something like that.

I have a few sets of these to give away. [UPDATE: All gone.]


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Did the original Jumping Stool fail to get you the acclaim you expected? Well check out the Jumping Stool 2.0.

Can you imagine just how powerful a trick this must be?

Imagine bringing this out on stage.

“Here I have a completely ordinary stool.”

Then you step on it making it go flat and it jumps into your hand!

Standing ovation. People carrying you out on their shoulders. Panties being shotgunned into your face by aroused females.

Sorry, Christ! There’s a new miracle worker in town! And his name is… I don’t know his name…but it’s this guy with the little stool!

Audience reaction: “He took that perfectly normal, everyday stool—the one that’s too weak for anyone to sit on and too low for you to rest anything on—and he made it jump up in the air!”

Oh, Andy, quit with the snark. This isn’t supposed to be some AMAZING magic trick. It’s supposed to be a comedy prop.

Alright, let me revise my sarcasm then.

Can you imagine how fucking funny this must be?

“Hahahaha…. oh my god… you’ll never believe the funniest thing I saw! This guy came out on stage with a mini stool. Your standard, non-functional, obviously a prop, mini stool. Then he stepped on it and… you won’t believe this… it’s too funny… wait let me calm down so I can say it.”

14 minutes later.

“Okay… he stepped down on the stool and it jumped in the air!!! It was so funny! You know, like in the way a spring is funny? Well, this was a stool that was funny like springs are.”

“Everyone was laughing so hard and pissing their pants and gasping for air, all because of the great humor he brought to the event with his hilarious jumping stool. What’s that? Can I take you to see his show? Unfortunately no. He left town. Hollywood came calling. He signed a six-picture deal for him and the hilarious stool.”


This may be a standard tactic others have used, but I don’t think I’ve read it before. I wouldn’t want to do it with most people I perform for, because it’s somewhat confrontational, but maybe it would work with someone who’s being a bit of a dick.

The Dick: Hey, can you read my mind?

You: Yeah.

Dick: Prove it.

You: Okay. Think of something. LIke an object you can picture in your mind, I mean.

Dick: Okay. Got it.

You: Okay. This is something you’d find outdoors, isn’t it.

Dick: No.

You: Uhm… think of it again. [Concentrating] I was right the first time. You’d find it outdoors. On a farm, yes?

Dick: Nope. Still wrong.

You: Look, I know what I’m seeing. If you’re not going to be honest about it, there’s no point.

Dick: Hahah. Whatever. You can’t do it.

You: You’re right. I can’t do it if you’re going to lie or change your mind. Obviously.

Dick: Sure.

You: Here. Think of something else, but write it down this time, so we can prove whether I’m doing it or not.

That’s all it is. Just a way to justify the need for them to write something down when reading someone’s mind. I don’t actually think it’s an act that needs that much justification, although some people feel it does. In this instance, you only need to write it down because he’s apparently actively trying to sabotage you. And the fact you do get it right the second time suggests that maybe he was messing with you the first time.


Excited to see—assuming I’m interpreting this product artwork correctly—that Wayne Fox is releasing his version of that classic trick where you take a crap on one side of a scale and weigh it down with a feather, then squeal, “My magical feces are lighter than air!”

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My favorite version is the one David Copperfield did on his final special where he followed up the first phase by floating his big dookie with a zombie gimmick to R. Kelly’s, “I Believe I Can Fly.” And people still say magic can’t be emotionally resonant? Well I guess they didn’t see The Magic of David Copperfield XVII: Vortex of Shit. Powerful stuff.


Okay, see you back here on the 22nd. I’m off for some summer fun.

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What's the BFD about DFB?

Digital Force Bag is an app that I’ve been writing about for some time here and in the X-Comm newsletter. It’s a simple concept that allows you to force any item in a list in the Notes app on your phone. It was created by Nick Einhorn and Craig Squires and developed by Marc Kerstein, and it does what it does perfectly.

Perhaps too perfectly, actually. With typical magician’s grace, people are using it to force everything. Even fucking playing cards! As they say, “To a man with a hammer, everything looks like a nail. And I guess to magicians, everything looks like a card trick. But perhaps it’s inevitable that something that works this well will get overused and eventually overexposed. I don’t know.

Just because the app works so well, that doesn’t make it the ideal force for everything. Forcing tools are the most powerful, and the least likely to be questioned, when they’re used in contexts where they would be expected, not arbitrary. What might you have a list of on your phone? Use that with DFB. What might you fill up a pad with? Use that with Svengali pads. What might you have written down on slips and collected? Use that with a clear forcing bag/Amazebox.

Well, I’m not here to lecture you. You do whatever the hell you want. If this app gets F’d out, I’ll adapt.


We used DFB a few times in our focus-group testing back in February. It wasn’t the main thing we were testing, so we only performed it when we had extra time with some people. We didn’t perform it dozens of times, so I can’t say these results are definitive in any way, but they may be interesting to some of you.

We performed a fairly dull and basic DFB effect for 10 people (individually, not as a group).

Group 1 - Five of the people saw this trick: They name a number between 1 and 100. That number is used to identify a celebrity on a list of celebrities. A picture on the table is turned over, and it’s that celebrity.

Group 2 - Five of the people saw this trick: They name a number between 1 and 100. That number is used to identify a celebrity on a list of celebrities. They name another number between 1 and 100. That number is used to identify an item of food from a list of food. A picture on the table is turned over, and it’s that celebrity eating that food.

Which trick was stronger?

From my perspective, Group 2 had a slightly bigger response initially.

But…

When we asked them to suggest their best explanation for the effect, no one in Group 1 questioned the phone or the use of an app or anything like that. But four out of the five in Group 2 did.

Not scientific. Not a big enough sample size. Could just have been a coincidence. I get that.

But I doubt it.

Going back to the 7 part series from the last couple weeks, I think forcing multiple objects gets you a bigger pop of Surprise—Tom Hanks eating a pineapple is inherently more funny/surprising than just Tom Hanks, because it’s more specific—but it also puts more focus on the method, so the long-term, secondary reaction (contrecoup astonishment) is diminished.

This is a trade-off some might be willing to make. For amateurs, the initial response doesn’t carry much weight. You’re more concerned about fooling them long-term. For a professional you may value that initial outward reaction more even if it gives a potential explanation for the trick. Just something to think about.


I have a friend who gets pulled over a lot because he drives like a maniac. He has a “bucket list” on his phone and the force item is “Charm my way out of a speeding ticket.”

He says it works about half the time.


An email from reader, DT:

You could use the list of 100 presentations from Part IV along with the Digital Force Bag app. You could say it was a list of subjects you found interesting and have been looking into and then have them select one at random (wink-wink) and then you could offer to “show them some research” or “give them a demonstration” of their freely (nudge-nudge) chosen subject. —DT

I really like this idea. Not using the DFB app as part of a trick itself, but to add an air of spontaneity to your interaction.

Making things feel more unplanned is almost always a positive thing for the amateur performer. “Oh, you picked ‘Ghosts’… Uhm…Okay, I can show you something. but we’re going to have to take a 15 minute drive. Is that okay?” A mini field-trip is always a good way to get people intrigued, but when it seems unplanned that adds another layer to it.

Spontaneity can also increase the impossibility of what they saw. For example, say you had “elemental manipulation” on the list, and then you do a trick where you change water to ice in your hands or something. The “obvious” answer is that you must have had that ice on you to start with. But if you seemingly didn’t know you were going to be addressing that subject, how could you know to have it on you?

And it’s something you could continue on with the person for as long as you want. Every time you meet up she gets to pick something at random from the list of weird phenomenon you’ve been studying. Just the existence of the list itself is going to be a good talking point and a Hook for future interactions.


I have a new favorite use for DFB that will be in the next issue of X-Communication. It’s so good. In actuality, the trick itself isn’t spectacular. But every detail has been worked out, and done in the context I suggest, it’s truly a thing of beauty. It’s a great “special occasion” trick as you’ll see, and it leaves people with a perfect memento. I have pretty specific rules of what I think is “souvenir worthy” but this one is as good as anything you’ll find in magic. The last time I performed it I was told, “If my house was burning down and I could save three things. This would be one of them.” And she wasn’t kidding.

That’s coming in 10 days or so in the newsletter for supporters.

Part VII: Mailbag

I really think this series is not only some of your strongest work but also some of the best modern magic theory I’ve read.

You just need to change the name because A Unified Theory of Blowing People’s Fucking Brains Out Their Buttholes is not something people are going to take seriously. —DS

Ah, dear boy, but that’s why I named it that.

You might think, “If he wants to be taken seriously, he should write in a serious manner.” But the thing is I don’t care if you take me seriously. I just wrote six blog posts that are the equivalent in length of a 50+ page essay. If I was unsure of the value of the information, I would have published it in a slim, hard-cover volume with, “A Brief Treatise on Maximizing the Potency of Magic-based Demonstrations,” embossed in gold leaf on the cover, in an attempt to convince people it was something important.

But I’m already aware of the value of the information. I don’t need validation. So if people are going to dismiss it because it’s on a blog, or because of my style of writing, or because it’s accompanied with a gif of Donald Duck poking down his boner, that’s perfectly fine.


In Part II you said the classic force is a “broken technique” because you can’t establish the condition of a free choice. Couldn’t that be said of all forces? —DT

No. Not all. Some, yes. But the Classic Force is the hardest one to ret-con as a completely free selection because it doesn’t involve any moment where they make a definitive choice.

I have a friend who was a huge proponent of the Classic Force, even after the testing on forces which he helped conduct. His position was along these lines: “When you reveal the card they selected written in the sand on the beach, it’s obviously a force, no matter what you do. If that’s the case, then why not do the quickest, most direct selection procedure, the Classic Force?"

The problem with that statement is that his premise was wrong. There are techniques you can use that seemingly eliminate the possibility of a force. (I have chapters in my first two books about such techniques, and there will be another chapter with my most streamlined way of doing that in the next book.)

There are magicians who say, “You shouldn’t reveal a forced card in skywriting or as a tattoo (or any similar type of big reveal) because then they’re going to know it was a force.” But the reason they’re thinking like that is because the force they consider the gold standard (the classic force) is terrible for establishing the condition that it wasn’t a force: it’s kinetic, the choice is quick, the choice can’t reach toward a particular area of the deck, they can’t change their mind, and the card is literally placed into their hand.

If you use techniques that happen slowly, offer people the chance to change their mind, show them other options they could or would have ended up with if they made different choices, etc., then you can remove the possibility of a force and a big reveal will be genuinely astonishing.

By the way, I ended up changing my friend’s mind by going to Tannen’s and buying a Magician’s Insurance Policy—a trick most people would probably consider average at best—and performing it for people with him later that night. The trick is dumb as hell, but—if you remove the possibility of a force—it’s still devastating (as is any reveal when a force isn’t the answer).

I’m thinking of offering this service to people. I will come to your town, and we’ll go out and I’ll perform the Magician’s Insurance Policy for people while you watch. You’ll see it’s possible to force a card and eliminate the idea in the spectator’s mind that it was a force, and you’ll see how strong the reactions are, regardless of how corny the trick (or performer) may be.

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You said we shouldn’t do tricks that suggest sleight-of-hand if we want to get people to a state of genuine astonishment where they have no clue how a trick could be done. I understand that point but I’m also someone who loves sleight-of-hand. Am I wasting my time? — KS

If you want people to think of you as a sleight-of-hand expert, then you’re definitely not wasting your time.

If you like sleight-of-hand, but don’t want that to be the explanation for everything you do, then you’re still not necessarily wasting your time. Just adopt this mindset: I’m going to do sleight-of-hand that is so smooth and invisible that the notion I’m doing sleight-of-hand will be as impossible for them to believe as whatever the trick was that I showed them.

Practice and perfect sleights that are either invisible or look like normal actions. Avoid flashy or flourishy sleights. Think of your sleights as a secret super-power, not something you’re flaunting When you feel you need some validation for all the time you’ve put into your sleight-of-hand, go to a magic convention and show off there.


Re: Getting Rid of "It's just math." easy answer

My wife is a math teacher, and every year she has me come in and do some mathematical magic for her classes. Performing for 11 to 15-year-olds, which is great because they are NEVER polite. They are smart enough to understand the magic and they don't have the social graces of older audiences that might pretend like they were fooled when they weren't. Generally, the kids leave the performance saying, "Oh, he's just really good at math". In this context that's okay. These are kids, in a school and I'm specifically performing for them to try to make math look more interesting...if it looks more interesting at the expense of the secret that's fine with me.

I've noticed different reactions for some pieces though. I use a number force. It's a fairly typical algebra thing with a phone calculator. With this particular routine, the response is usually different and the theories are typically not math related. It doesn't get rid of the theory 100% of the time but it works a lot.

So what do I do that is different? I force an ugly decimal. Something like this 14528.25347896332658741525889632148855. My theory is that process + organization = math in their heads. If something feels extra messy it helps to get rid of the idea of math.

I think Woody Aragon, Juan Tamariz, Dani Daortiz, and Lennart Green get this. A huge amount of their magic is "mathematical" card magic and I think they get rid of the theory, in part thanks to the messiness of their performance style. —JB

Yeah, that’s a great point. Most people think of math as very structured and would assume a math-based effect would be very controlled and methodical. Having a messy process or a messy outcome is an ideal way to undermine the “it’s just math” answer for the vast majority of the population.


You missed a big one on your list of presentations in your post, “Weaponizing Surprise.” You didn’t mention Influence. —JW

Oh, I didn’t miss it. My full list is much longer and grows every day.

One of the least fortunate things to happen to magic/mentalism is that someone as charismatic as Derren Brown made “influence” such a big part of his presentations/pseudo-methodology, especially early on.

It felt like a fresh approach when he came on the scene. But now it’s a completely fucked-out presentation.

Magicians like it because it makes them look powerful, but seemingly not delusional. “Oh, no, no, no. I’m not one of those charlatans who claims to have magic powers. I just influenced you to cut to the aces.”

Heres the thing…saying you “influenced” someone without suggesting how you influenced them is identical to claiming magic powers.

I say we all start calling out this lazy presentation going forward.

“I influenced you to cut to the aces!”

“Oh yeah? How?”

“What do you mean ‘how’? I influenced you.”

“Sure. But how did you exert your influence? What was the manner in which you influenced me to cut to these locations in the deck?”

“Just…. I mean… it’s my powers of Influence!!!”

Influence isn’t something that just happens. It’s the result of something you do. And if you’re suggesting you influenced people to name a particular random 3-digit number, for example, in a manner so subtle that you left no evidence of your influence and no one else picked up on it, then you might as well just say, “I’m a wizard!”

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Part VI: Miscellany

One thing about this series that I attempted to make clear, but perhaps didn’t, judging by a couple emails I’ve received, is this: This is not how I approach every trick I do. There may be aspects of this approach that apply to much of my material, but I don’t run everything through this process. This process is for when I want to do something particularly special, that’s on another level from just a “great trick.”

In the past I’ve called this Tantric Magic, because, like tantric sex, you really want to take your time with it and plan every detail and create a more intense connection with your partner through the activity.

But you don’t want to spend four hours banging your old lady every night.

You don’t want Christmas every day.

You don’t want cake for dessert at every meal.

You don’t want to overdo this style of magic. What makes it special is that it’s something rare.

I think it’s important to cycle people through different intensities of magic. If you performed a genuine miracle every evening, people would be bored by day four. But if you space them out over time, you can keep people on the hook the rest of their lives.

For us, everything is under the umbrella of “magic,” but I want them to get a sense that there’s a little more distinction between these types of things. I want them to think, “Oh, he does these really cool visual tricks, and he knows some strange games, and he has some great card tricks, and he’s got a collection of really weird objects, and then…this one time… he showed me the goddamned craziest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

But I don’t want them to think of that on a spectrum of “ok to impossible.” I want them to think of them as different types of experiences. Like if you knew a chef and you said, “She makes us dinner sometimes, and she’ll knock out a pizza late-night on Saturdays, and she makes a great cupcake, and this one time… she made us this incredible 14-course meal that blew me away.” You’re not saying, “The 14-course meal is amazing and the cupcake is just okay.” You’re feeling them as distinct things that are all great in their own way. Even though to the chef it might all just be “cooking.”

Further reading: The Hedonic Treadmill and the Art of Not Always Doing Your Best, Bedrock: Outer Game


Here is the TL/DR version of the Surprise-Astonishment-Mystery spectator reaction pathway:

1. A spectator’s initial reaction to a trick is Surprise.

2. If that trick cannot be explained or undermined by their internal faculties, then Surprise morphs into Astonishment.

3. If the trick cannot be explained or undermined by any external factors (googling, youtube videos, asking around) or if the spectator just chooses not to seek out an explanation from external sources, then Astonishment will transform into Mystery over time.

Those are the two “gauntlets” you need to pass through: their internal knowledge/logic, and the external tools they might use to figure out a trick.


The “Mystery” pathway is just one you may want to pursue. There are other pathways.

Is a person doing manipulation on stage really trying to engender feelings of true mystery? I don’t think so (if they are, they’re doing a terrible job of it). I think their goal is probably something that puts a focus on esthetics as much as magic. There should be a flow and a rhythm and beauty to it. The Beauty Path is different than the Mystery Path.

Another path might be if your goal is to impress people with your supposed or real skill (influence tricks, gambling tricks, memory tricks). That might be a two-step pathway from Surprised to Impressed.

First they’re Surprised that you did whatever. For example, there’s the initial surprise when the four aces show up in your poker hand.

Then their mind processes what must have happened for you to get those aces and they’re Impressed with with how difficult that must be (or how difficult you suggested it was).

You’re not looking to create Mystery here. You want them to believe they know how it was done: via your exceptional skill.

The Mystery Path wants to leave them with no reasonable answer. The Impressive Path tries to lead them to one reasonable, but still impressive answer. The Beauty Path might not care what answers they come to as long as they’re engrossed in watching the magic.

I haven’t really thought these things out all that well, my point is just that Mystery isn’t always the end goal, and you’ll want to find whatever the path is for the experience you’re hoping to create.


The benefit of the Mystery Path is also probably its weakness. When you have something that really stays with people, they may feel compelled to research it and figure out what happened, depending how comfortable they are with mystery.

The nice thing about presenting an “average” card trick, for example, is that it doesn’t really feel like it’s meant to be anything other than a momentary pleasure. They’re not going to look up how you did your four ace trick. They’re barely going to remember anything about it other than, hopefully, “that was fun.”

But an immersive trick is intended to stick with them long-term so the inclination to figure out what happened might be very strong.

This is why, generally, I try not to do anything in these contexts that can be unraveled with an obvious google search. And I also try to limit my audiences for this sort of thing to the kind who seem to really embrace mystery.


A prime example (and I do mean prime hahaha…. oh wait… that doesn’t make sense yet… don’t worry you’ll get my hilarious joke soon) of a trick with a high Surprise response, and an almost non-existent Astonishment response is any trick built around the 37 force. This isn’t something I do regularly, but if I see the number out in the wild, say, on the back of a guy’s sports jersey, I might make a little moment out of it for someone. I’ve had people jump when they initially see the number, but then there is very little Contrecoup Astonishment. It succumbs to the Easy Answers pretty quickly.

The 37 force is a Broken Trick. What condition would need to be established for it to be truly impressive? That the spectator had a free choice of a wide range of numbers. What method is used for the trick? Limiting them to a small group of numbers. The method precludes you from establishing the condition which is the definition of a Broken Trick.


This reminds me of an Easy Answer that I forgot. It’s the Easy Answer of, “He must have got lucky.”

This is related to the, “I guess everyone says ____,” answer, although not identical.

How do you plug the “He got lucky,” hole? You use time. If I say, “Name a musical instrument,” and you say, “Piano,” and I turn over a picture of a piano. You might say, “Everyone must say piano.” If I remind you that i asked you to change your mind a few times, you might think, “Well, he probably got lucky.”

But if there is a build up in the effect that takes 15 minutes to occur, you’re not going to think I had us invest all that time on something that was strictly based on “luck.”

I have a trick coming in the next book where using time in this manner is essentially the only method, and it’s one of my favorites to perform.


Almost all magic trailers show you only the moment of Surprise. I think the lie of magic demos is that that’s the moment that matters. In reality, if they kept the camera on the people for 10 more seconds after the trick, then we’d get the real story.


An uncritical audience is the biggest impediment towards generating Astonishment. True “Astonishment” requires to process the trick and still having no clue how it was done.


The way to know a trick has gone from Surprise to Astonishment is to look for a secondary reaction. With Kolossal Killer (for example) you’re likely to get a reaction that looks like the diagram below. An initial high plateau of (Surprise) followed by a steep descent after their brain processes it. The line doesn’t fall all the way to the bottom because they haven’t (usually) figured out the trick. Instead it drops much of the way because they have an easy answer to account for generally what happened. Then, in the long-term, there is a gradual decline of the residual surprise.

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With a trick that goes from Surprise to Astonishment, you’ll have a reaction like the one below. First, an initial moment of surprise. Then, when their mind thinks about it and gets no answer, you get their peek reaction. Over time, that reaction will turn to Mystery and gradually diminish to a point. But that’s more because it’s not at the forefront of their mind like when it just occurred, not because it’s necessarily any less impossible to them.

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I know a number of people who do the Creepy Child version of Directed Verdict, as mentioned in the last post.. If you do, and you’ve been reading this series of posts, I’m going to reward you by telling you my favorite way to extend the trick.

First, you definitely need to include the initial drawing—the one that matches that day’s newspaper. I know it may seem like a small thing, but it adds a lot to the effect. It broadens the moment from just the few minutes the effect takes, to something that you set up, potentially, much earlier in the day. Instead of just saying, “Oh, and my niece predicted this.” You’re saying, “Oh, remember that kid I mentioned earlier tonight, the creepy one? Well, you’re not going to believe this but….” You’re re-introducing a character they’ve met.

Then a couple weeks later, you can reinvigorate this storyline by doing a headline prediction effect, but with the “creepy child” presentation on top. “My niece gave me this envelope, but she said not to open it until Sunday. Will you hold onto it for me? I think I’ll be too tempted to see what it is.” And then everything comes full circle. You introduced “your niece” by saying, “She predicted this would be the front page of the newspaper.” And then weeks later your spectator gets to experience that impossibility in real time. This is a very strong story construction. So strong that I’ve had a couple people say, “Wait… do you really have a niece who can do this?” What they were sure was just a fun storyline for an effect feels almost possible for a brief moment. (In Jerx-parlance, this would be them poking their head out the Little Door.)


Okay, we’re wrapping this series up with a mailbag post related to it on Monday. When I initially mentioned this series, I said it would consist of three “shorter posts.” I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. In my head it was going to be three posts of two paragraphs each. Bu obviously I ended up having much more to say than I expected.

I was asked to write about this subject by a couple friends who have seen and been a part of some of my performances of this style of trick, and seen how intense the reactions can be. I think if you just see the end result of that sort of performance, it may seem like I simply found or created some really powerful trick, and that makes it seem like an issue of luck or inspiration. But for me it’s really just a matter of finding a strong trick, and then applying this systematic process to it that will—in the best circumstances—transform it into an impregnable mystery.

Part V: Why Bother & How

This is the last formal post in this series, although there will be a Part VI with some random tangents that got cut from other posts on Friday, and next week there will be a mailbag post discussing the series further.

How to Bother

You ever watch those shows on HGTV where a couple buys a house, renovates it, and then re-sells it? I see that process as similar to the process of turning a good trick into a powerfully resonant trick.

Step 1

Real Estate: Finding a structurally sound house in a good neighborhood.
Magic: Finding a structurally sound trick that you’re capable of performing (See Part II: Broken Tricks)

Step 2

Real Estate: Fixing the obvious issues with the house.
Magic: Addressing the “obvious” solutions a spectator might come to. (See Part III: No Easy Answers)

Step 3

Real Estate: Adding cosmetic touches and staging the house. (These are the things aren’t “needed” but may be what connects with a buyer and “sells “the house.)
Magic: Putting the trick in a compelling context (See Part IV: Weaponizing Surprise)

Step 4

Real Estate: Making a lot of money when you sell the house.
Magic: There is no corollary to this in magic.

Here is the process with an actual trick.

The trick is Directed Verdict by John Bannon. It is, perhaps, the trick that has been in my active repertoire for longer than any other. It’s a very direct Spectator Cuts the Aces routine.

Step One

What are the conditions that make a Spectator Cuts the Aces routine impossible? I would say they’re these:

  1. That it’s a normal deck with only four aces.

  2. That the spectator can cut with relative freedom.

  3. That the cards the spectator actually cut to are the ones that are turned over.

Does the method for Directed Verdict allow me to prove these conditions? Yes. It’s not a Broken Trick. It’s structurally sound.

Step Two

What are the “Easy Answers” someone might jump to when considering this effect?

  1. Sleight-of-hand. Most of this trick happens in the spectators hands so sleight-of-hand is less likely to be suspected. One might be tempted to turn over the cards themselves at the end to “control the pace of the climax.” That makes sense for a show, but in this setting, where you’re trying to create the most bulletproof effect for just a person or two, I think you want to sacrifice presentational flair for a cleanliness of handling. Let them turn over the aces.

  2. It’s a gimmicked deck. As far as Directed Verdict goes, the solution I find people frequently jump to is that there’s something funny about the deck. They think there must be a lot of aces in the deck. There aren’t,. They can look through the deck at the end to prove this, but an even better way to subvert this Easy Answer is to use a deck from the spectator’s home.

  3. “He forced me to cut at those points.” What I found is that the only answer people were left with is that I must have known the location of the aces and directed them to cut in their general area and then I got lucky. It’s not a rational answer, but it’s all they have left, so let’s demolish it.

    I do this in two ways. First I allow them to shuffle the deck at the start (palming in the cards after the shuffle). Second, when I demonstrate the cut (which is part of the method), I don’t say, “Cut about this much” because I want to emphasize their freedom rather than their constraint. So I say something like, “You’re going to cut off a few packets. You can do just a few or a bigger chunk. But don’t cut off too much more than this each time because we need enough for four packets with some leftover.”

So you, as the spectator, shuffle the cards, you cut the cards into four packets at positions of your own choosing, and then you turn over the cards and they’re the aces. There’s no outlet for the Surprise, so I think it’s likely to make the transition to Astonishment.

Surprise: “Whoa! I cut to the aces.”
[Trick gets processed through their brain.]
Astonishment: “Wait… hold on….. How? That’s not possible!”

Step Three

But besides that impossibility, there’s not much to consider about the trick. The impossibility is strong, but also arbitrary. Cutting a deck into four piles isn’t even part of any popular card game. And cutting to aces is no more or less impossible than cutting to all the 3s. So there’s not really a “story” to the trick to allow the spectator to really get wrapped up in it.

Now consider the Creepy Child Version of the effect from this post.

The spectator stops over and sees a child’s drawing that matches today’s paper. Is this… real? Probably not. So it’s a set up to something? Part of a trick or just a joke? Or what exactly?

What I’m doing is beginning to build a story around “just” a strong trick.

Later in the night I offer to show her a trick, where she’ll cut to the four aces. This feels normal. She’s seen tricks from me before. The trick fails. I notice the cards she did cut to look familiar. Wait… what about that drawing my niece did of the cards that’s hanging on my refrigerator? And… of course… that matches up.

The trick isn’t just impossibility anymore. It’s connected to a story—and while people may have a push-pull relationship with Astonishment—we universally love an interesting story. (And by “story” I don’t literally mean a “Once upon a time”-style narrative you relay to the spectator, but a story they take part in..)

There’s a creepy child with the powers of precognition. There’s foreshadowing. There’s a punchline (see the original post). It’s an impossibility people will enjoy ruminating over.

I’ve done the original Spectator-Cuts-The-Aces version hundreds of times. It’s a strong trick.

I’ve also done a version where I act like I want them to cut the aces, they don’t, and then I reveal they cut to the four cards I predicted. I’ve done that probably 10-15 times. That’s good too.

However, the reaction to this version has been significantly greater, in my experience. And it seems to make a much more lasting impression.

I’m not suggesting, “John Bannon created this trick, but then I made it good.” No, I’m saying Bannon created a trick and it’s so well constructed that it makes a perfect substrate for all sorts of different presentations. I have eight presentations for this trick that I use regularly.

Why Bother

I think a fair question to ask is, “Do people even want to be intensely fooled by a magic trick?”

If you think that’s a stupid question then you’ve either never “intensely fooled” someone, or you don’t pay much attention to people’s reactions.

In my experience, and from watching others perform, a really strong trick can turn people off almost as frequently as it can draw them in.

I don’t think “Astonishment” is generally a welcome feeling. If it was, why would our brain’s natural response be to attempt to diminish it?

It makes sense that surprise/mystery based astonishment might be seen as something to be avoided. It’s probably baked into our DNA. Imagine you’re a prehistoric man seeing a mysteriously large wave coming in from the sea, or hearing an unusual noise coming from the forest. If your instinct is to run away and hide behind a rock, you’ll survive to pass along your genes. If your instinct is to approach the mystery with an open heart, in search of astonishment, then you’re like, “Ahhh! How splendid! I’m enjoying a state of such child-like wonder—OH FUCK I’M BEING CRUSHED BY THIS TSUNAMI WAVE!!!” Or, “SWEET CHRIST! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO APPRECIATE THE DELIGHT OF THE UNKNOWN WHEN THIS TIGER IS CRACKING OPEN MY SKULL LIKE A CHESTNUT!!!”

So when you magically change one bill to another, don’t be surprised when people try to fight a sense of mystery from taking hold. “You have another bill in your hand,” or, “It’s a trick bill,” is just them trying to make sense of something they don’t understand. We’re the descendants of millennia of humans for whom there was no biological advantage to the feeling of, “I have no fucking clue what’s going on.”

But, I don’t think that’s the full story. Here’s why…

There was a time when I would perform for people and I’d get the sense that they enjoyed being fooled to a point. But once we got past that point—into the realm of something that felt genuinely impossible—they didn’t seem more amazed, often they just seemed to get frustrated.

However, as my performance style changed from magician-centric to audience-centric, I found that point diminished and then disappeared. People were more and more inclined to really let the astonishment overtake them, and seemed to enjoy being profoundly fooled.

While I think we may instinctually recoil from astonishment. I also believe most people are evolved to the point where they can appreciate it as long as it meets two requirements:

1. It doesn’t seem self-serving.

2. It comes packaged in an interesting “story.”

If they question your motivations at all, it’s going to be very difficult for them to be vulnerable enough to feel astonishment unabated. If they think you’re a creep or that you’re hoping to gain status or that you want to “get” something from them, they will shut it down.

If you can avoid that, however, then you have the green light. And I can honestly say, since coming to this model of spectator experience over the past few years, I’ve received the strongest reactions I’ve ever had to magic. And I think a big reason for that is because it didn’t seem self-serving—they knew this was intended to be, ultimately, a positive experience for them.

And because I delivered the Astonishment as part of an interesting story.

The two are related, you see. If you’re just demonstrating “impossibility for impossibility’s sake,” then it’s hard to come off as anything other than a show-off. It’s hard for them to see the experience as being anything other than about you.

But put the magic in the context of a story/experience that isn’t about you, and that suggests that you’re doing it for them rather than for yourself.

Story makes everything palatable. Most humans don’t like being scared. Pop out screaming at your roommate from behind the curtains enough times and he’ll eventually punch you in the face. Being scared is another thing our ancestors tried to avoid. And yet, we will pay for horror movies, books, and tv shows. Put fear in context and many people are all for it.

Story is how we infect people with Astonishment. It’s too easy to dismiss the feeling without it. Having the goal of doing the strongest possible magic—with a plan that just consists of showing people impossible things with no context—is like having the goal of being the funniest comedian in the world and your plan is to tickle people the hardest.

The strongest magic is a synthesis of bulletproof method/execution and a story element that captures and keeps their attention.

That’s not exactly controversial. But as I said when I originally introduced this series of posts…

“I don’t think the ideas are all that ingenious, in fact they’re almost basic, but I think they’re things we maybe forget to focus on when we’ve been in magic for a while.”

As magicians, we can get so caught up in clever methods and new techniques that we forget about the spectator altogether. I’m not immune to any of that. But by sitting down every week or so and running a trick through the process described in this series, I am consistently reminding myself to focus on the spectator, with the goal of giving them the most intense experience possible through magic. Which is, as Henning Nelms said, “To blow one’s mind so forcefully as to project it down their body and right the fuck out their butthole.”

He was a wise man.

Part IV: Weaponizing Surprise

This post describes the final step I take when I’m looking to create the most potent type of magical experience for a spectator.

First you find a structurally sound trick that you can perform flawlessly.

Then you take the steps to eliminate any potential Easy Answers via presentation or technique.

The final step is to put the trick in a context that gives the audience something to chew on.

Years ago, I wouldn’t have guessed that this was necessary. I would have thought: “Well, sure, a good trick probably has an interesting presentation to go along with it. But the most overwhelmingly powerful tricks are probably just a hyper-focused moment of impossible magic.

But that hasn’t been my experience. A “hyper-focused moment of impossible magic” will get a huge Surprise reaction, but it doesn’t seem to stick. That’s not the type of trick that people bring up to me days, months, and years later.

I have a theory about why that is. Imagine you had the actual ability to vanish a coin in your hand. You borrow a coin, place it in your hand, slowly close your hand, wait a beat, open your hand, and the coin is completely gone. You give it no presentation. It’s just a concentrated moment of magic. You open your hand and the spectator is initially blown away. But then there’s really nothing for them to consider. Their options are, “Well, I guess magic is real,” or “Well, that looked impossible, but magic isn’t real. So clearly I just missed something.” 99% of rational adults are going to go with, “I guess I missed something.” So even a genuine demonstration of real magic would probably be somewhat casually dismissed by most audiences.

Now, imagine this instead. You come over to my house and there is a line of tape down the middle of my kitchen. “What’s with the tape?” you ask.

“Oh, there’s something weird going on in my kitchen. Check this out.”

We go into my kitchen. I pick up a coin off the counter. We stand on one side of the tape line. I show you the coin in my hand. I close my hand and we step to the other side of the line. I open my hand and the coin is gone. “Look,” I say, and point back to the counter. The coin is back sitting on the counter.

“I thought I was going crazy. I would get a spoon to stir my coffee and the next second it would be gone. It kept happening with things. It felt like dementia. But I’ve narrowed it down to this point in the kitchen. Something happens when I cross this plane. I can’t figure out what it is.”

This is obviously much less direct than the “real magic” version. In fact, it wouldn’t be hard to come up with several workable methods (a coin with a shell on the counter, you pick up the shell leaving the regular coin, then vanish the shell with a Raven, or whatever). And it’s not like you, as the spectator, believe there’s some time-warp or weird vortex in my kitchen. You understand it’s a story to go along with a trick. But regardless, I still think it’s the sort of thing you spend more time thinking about and chewing over in your mind. And the more time you spend with a trick, the more chance it has to build into a sense of mystery. In an earlier post in this series I said that the way I see things is that the initial Surprise will grow into Astonishment if it’s not explained away after a few seconds, and Astonishment will grow into Mystery in the long-term. So giving people more reasons to think about a trick in the hours/days to come is what’s going to allow that feeling to build.

A pure magic moment may be visually stunning and surprising, but it’s completely unrelatable when it’s not put in some sort of context. The problem isn’t that the trick is “too perfect,” it’s that it’s too “one note.” It gives the audience only one thing to consider: “How was that done?” That’s a question that might be compelling to us magicians, but if you don’t have any underlying knowledge of the subject, how long will that be interesting to think about?

A compelling story, context, or presentation is how you weaponize surprise. It’s your delivery system. A strong trick without that element is like a chemical weapon without a delivery system. You have something that’s potentially powerful, but without a way to really disperse it effectively.

I think the brain’s natural instinct is to fight surprise/astonishment. But it’s drawn to story and narrative. So if you can slip the Surprise into a context/story, then it’s like sticking your dog’s medicine in with some ground beef.

But, Andy, I don’t have any good ideas for interesting presentations and contexts.

Aaaaggghhhh!!!!! You lazy slob. Do I have to do everything? Okay, below is a list of 100 to get you started. It’s a subset of a much longer list that I work off of. I’m not suggesting you should use magic to get anyone to believe in the reality of these things (although some are real). I’m suggesting using your tricks to tell unbelievable stories or present unbelievable manifestations of these concepts and phenomena.

  1. Agnosia

  2. Alice in Wonderland Syndrome

  3. Aliens

  4. Angels

  5. Animal instincts

  6. Apophenia

  7. Astral Projection

  8. Astrology

  9. Auras/Kirlian Photography

  10. Automatic Writing

  11. Baader-Meinhof phenomenon

  12. Bad Luck

  13. Bibliomancy

  14. Biorhythms

  15. Body Memory

  16. Brain Gym

  17. Brainwashing

  18. Capgras Delusion

  19. Chakras

  20. Chronokinesis

  21. Clairgustance

  22. Clustering Illusion

  23. Cocktail Party Effect

  24. Coincidence

  25. Cryptophasia

  26. Cryptozoological Phenomena

  27. Crystals

  28. Déjà Visité

  29. Deja Vu

  30. Demonic Possession

  31. Dimensional Anomalies

  32. Dropped Marble Sound

  33. Drugs

  34. Electronic Voice Phenomenon

  35. Energy Manipulation

  36. ESP

  37. Fairies

  38. Feng Shui

  39. Fortune Telling

  40. Fregoli Delusion

  41. Ghosts

  42. God

  43. Good Luck

  44. Granting Wishes

  45. Graphology

  46. Hallucinations

  47. Haunted Locations

  48. Haunted Objects

  49. Hypnotism

  50. Intuition

  51. Jamais Vu

  52. Kuleshov Effect

  53. Law of Attraction

  54. Lie Detection

  55. Lucid Dreaming

  56. Lunar Effect

  57. Mandela Effect

  58. Meditation

  59. Mediumship

  60. Memory

  61. Multiple Universes

  62. Near Death Experiences

  63. Numerology

  64. Optical Illusions

  65. Orgone Energy and Orgone Boxes

  66. Other Dimensions

  67. Our world is a simulation

  68. Out of Body Experiences

  69. Out-group Homogeneity Effect

  70. Past Life Regression

  71. Perpetual Motion

  72. Personality Tests

  73. Phrenology

  74. Prosopagnosia

  75. Psychic Healing

  76. Reduplicative Paramnesia

  77. Reincarnation

  78. Remote Viewing

  79. Rituals

  80. Rumpology

  81. Scriptural Codes

  82. Scrying

  83. Seance

  84. Sentient Objects

  85. Sexual Energy

  86. Solfeggio frequencies

  87. Spells

  88. Spontaneous Human Combustion

  89. Strange Face in the Mirror Illusion

  90. Subliminal Messages

  91. Sympathetic Magic

  92. Synesthesia

  93. Tantric Energy

  94. Telekinesis

  95. Tetris Syndrome

  96. The Body/Mind Connection

  97. Time Travel

  98. Uncanny Valley Hypothesis

  99. Wormholes

  100. 366 Geometry

Part III: No Easy Answers

So here’s how it works. The climax of the the trick happens. It’s the moment of Surprise. The spectator’s mind goes into attack mode and starts pulling at any loose threads it can find in order to unravel the surprise. You can try to get them not to do this. You can assure them that it’s actually beneficial to just enjoy the moment. But this is primarily happening on a subconscious level. So trying to convince them not to engage in this on a rational level is going to be of limited usefulness.

The truth is, you actually want them to pull those threads. If they pull on the threads and—instead of unraveling—the Surprise turns into tight little knot, then you will be in the realm of Astonishment.

But for that to happen, your effect/method/presentation must offer no easy answers.

This might seem beyond obvious. “Yes. Of course. If the method is easy to figure out, then the trick won’t ever get past the Surprise phase.” But that’s not what I’m saying. It’s not enough just to disguise the specifics of the method you’re using. You need to do your best to prevent them from even having a general idea of a potential solution. Because even just a general idea will act as a sponge, soaking up the Surprise before it can build to Astonishment. And that’s true even if their solution is not the method you actually used.

It’s not possible to keep 100% of the people from jumping to an Easy Answer 100% of the time with 100% of tricks. So don’t think I’m saying that’s an achievable goal. Instead, think of the trick like a boat. The Easy Answers are like holes in the boat. Every answer you can address will make the trick stay afloat a little longer. And for the rare tricks where you can plug up every hole, you will have something that is virtually unsinkable.

This is the goal when looking to create the most devastating tricks. I would say I reach this standard of “pure impossibility” maybe 5% of the time. That may sound low, but I think it’s actually close to the upper limit. With most performances, I find my audience to be some combination of entertained, perplexed, amused, amazed, in awe—whatever you might hope for from a good magic effect. But 5% of the time—about 1 in 20 tricks—i can craft an experience where they are truly unsettled, and at a complete loss to explain what they just saw.

The way I push a performance to that extreme is by first picking a structurally sound effect (see Part II) and then systematically going through the list that follows and plugging as many of the holes as possible.

From the formal and informal testing of magic tricks that I’ve been a part of, here are the 10 most common Easy Answers that I’ve seen people resort to in order to “explain” a trick, even when they don’t have an understanding of the exact method.

Easy Answers

1. “It was sleight-of-hand.”

Normally, if someone said, “That was sleight-of-hand,” you wouldn’t think, Damn, they figured out my trick.

But for the purposes of explaining away the Surprise element of a trick, “sleight-of-hand” is enough. People may still wonder how exactly you accomplished the trick, but that won’t build into a sense of Mystery, because a general cause has been identified: sleight-of-hand.

Plugging This Hole: While “sleight-of-hand” is the easy answer to probably the vast majority of close-up, non-mentalism tricks, there is a way to greatly lessen the likelihood of people resorting to this answer. And that is to only do sleights that you’ve mastered and that look like ordinary actions.

In the upcoming summer issue of the X-Comm newsletter for subscribers, I’m going to write about some recent testing we did that looked into this. But I’ll explain the conclusion here briefly: Non-magicians expect sleight-of-hand to look like something. Yes, sleight-of-hand is almost a default explanation people will apply to tricks, but if you don’t do any movements that draw attention to themselves as awkward or unnecessary, and if you handle the cards as your audience would, the likelihood of people jumping to this conclusion drops dramatically.

“So I can’t do any tricks that suggest sleight-of-hand?” I’m not saying that. I’m saying, if the spectator experience you want to create with a particular trick is one that ends with an unfathomable mystery, then yes, the Easy Answer of “sleight-of-hand,” has to be eliminated from the equation. And you either eliminate it by doing effects that require little to no handling of the props on your part or by having sleight-of-hand that is flawless and draws no attention to itself.

Further Reading: Inexpert Card Technique, Summer 2019 X-Communication Newsletter (coming in July)

2. “He distracted me.”

After “sleight-of-hand,” this is the most common explanation I’ve found that people give for how a trick worked. They may say, “He distracted me,” or, “He switched something when I wasn’t looking,” or, “He moved too fast and I couldn’t focus where I needed to,” or, “I was looking in the wrong place,” or, “He misdirected me.” Regardless of how they put it, what they’re suggesting is that they just weren’t focused where they needed to be. If they hadn’t been “distracted” they would have seen exactly what happened.

If your spectator is interested in Location A, and then you go and do something interesting to draw their attention to Location B, and then at some point you bring them back to Location A, and something has magically changed there, this does not fool people long-term. In fact, it is exactly in line with a modern layperson’s concept of misdirection.

Plugging This Hole: First, in general, it’s good to move much more slowly than you probably do when performing. If you seem relaxed, it seems much less likely that you’re doing stuff furtively.

Second, try not to ping-pong people’s attention around too much. It’s one thing if you’re doing a production act on stage and you need to constantly direct their attention. But in a social situation, this will feel very weird.

In the further reading below, I talk about misdirecting people’s attention (their eyes) vs. misdirecting people’s suspicion (their minds). If you can master when to do both types of misdirection, you’re much less likely to have a situation where they feel they’re being directed or distracted.

Further Reading: Practical Misdirection for the Amateur Magician

3. “It must be a gimmicked [whatever].”

I’ve beaten this subject to death, but if their options are:

  1. “Something happened that transcended the laws of physics.”

    or

  2. “That’s a trick dollar bill.”

They are going to go with “trick dollar bill.”

Plugging this Hole: You must choreograph your effect so any object that is altered in some magical way can be looked at by the spectator afterwards.

If you can’t reach this standard, you may have some tricks that offer cool visuals and big moments of Surprise, but you will not be able to transition that into Astonishment, because they will have their easy answer.

Further Reading: Final Exam Part 1 and Part II, Examination in Social Magic.

4. “I must have been forced to pick that (card, celebrity name, slip of paper, page in a book, train car on the Orient Express).”

Forces are a foundational element of many magic tricks, and while the specific techniques behind forcing may be unknown to an audience, the idea that something can be forced is not unknown.

Plugging This Hole: This is something I’ve worked on a lot personally and run testing on as well. Most forces consist of something that feels like a random selection. That’s fine. But to make it more impenetrable, there should be a genuinely free choice that happens at some point in the process.

Why is that? Shouldn’t something that seems “random” be enough for it to seem like it’s not a force? My theory is this… If the spectator says, “That thing seemed random,” they are making a statement about something external. So they can never say it with 100% certainty. But if they say, “That was a fair choice,” they are making a statement about something they felt.

And so, if I want to plug the “it was a force” hole, I’m going to construct the trick so there is a genuinely fair choice at some point in the proceedings. (A “choice” means a selection between two or more distinct options. And no, “say ‘stop’ while I riffle” or “touch the back of any card as they go by” does not come across as a choice.) And then I’m going to show them what would have happened if they had made a different choice at that point. So they have a free choice, and they see the consequences of that choice.

How do you add genuinely free choices to a force? It usually means adding other techniques to the force. (switches, multiple outs, miscalls, third-wave equivoque, or whatever).

As an example, an easy card force with a moment of free choice would use a Pop-Eyed Popper deck. They put their finger on any card. Then you give them a clear, free choice to stay there or move one card to the left or right. Whatever choice they make, you cleanly show them the other cards they “almost” ended up with. That structure makes it very difficult for them to walk away thinking, “I think he forced this card on me.”

(An even better version of that force—better because it has all the same moments, but uses an ungimmicked deck—is what I use most of the time now and will be explained in my next book.)

Further Reading: The Force Awakens, The Force Unleashed, The Damsel Technique in Magic for Young Lovers

5. “Everyone must say that.”

When a trick involves a clearly free choice of something, and the “it must have been forced” answer doesn’t provide any relief, spectators will often resort to this Easy Answer. “I named the 4 of Spades, and that was the only card face-up in the deck. I guess everyone names the 4 of Spades.”

This one is frustrating, because it’s particularly illogical. It’s really a last gasp attempt for coming up with some sort of answer for what happened. “I guess everyone says ‘Angela Lansbury.’” Thankfully it’s not as common as some of the other Easy Answers on this list.

Plugging this Hole: Because it is so illogical, it can be hard to fight. There are three techniques I will use to avoid it before it becomes a potential issue.

  1. Don’t use psychological forces to carry a lot of weight in your tricks. It’s hard to combat the “Everyone must say that,” answer, if that is, in fact, the correct answer.

  2. Call it out early on. “I want you to think of any playing card. You can think of a common one, like the aces, or an obscure one. It’s your choice. You may think everyone thinks of the same common card or the same obscure card. So whatever you settled on, make some changes to it, if you want. Increase or decrease the value, change up the suit until you’re positive I couldn’t know what you’re thinking.”

  3. Add some true randomness to their selection. Having a flip of a coin or a roll of a dice or the spin of a roulette wheel (even imaginary versions of all these) affect the final version of some freely named thing is a good way to eliminate the “everyone must say that,” answer. “I asked you to think of a number. Then you rolled a die in your mind and chose to either add or subtract it from the number you’re thinking of. This is kind of a double-blind experiment. Obviously I couldn’t know what number you would think of. But coming in here, you wouldn’t know what number you would end up thinking of either, because you didn’t know there would be an element of chance that would affect that number.” And so on.

6. “He must have done some research on me.”

This Easy Answer affects mentalism primarily. If you name someone’s astrological sign, and you’ve known them for more than 90 seconds, it’s barely an effect these days. If you ask them to think of a favorite relative or a pet they had or the first concert they went to, often people will think, “Hmmm… could he have figured that out by looking at something on facebook or instagram?” I wouldn’t say this is a default solution when telling someone something about themselves, but I think it’s looked at more and more as a possibility as more of people’s lives are shared online.

Plugging this Hole: Don’t predict or mind-read anything that could conceivably be found online. Look into my concept of the Unknown Personal, which is about predicting things the spectators do not yet know about themselves.

Further Reading: The Unknown Personal

7. “It’s just math.”

This isn’t super common, but it’s an explanation that has come up enough when testing tricks to know that people think it more frequently than you’d imagine (even when it’s a trick that isn’t math-based.)

Plugging This Hole: I find this particularly challenging and wouldn’t say I’ve come up with any great techniques to handle it yet. Obviously if the trick does use math, this might be an impossible hole to plug. Even if it doesn’t, it can be difficult to convince people otherwise.

I have found, on a couple of occasions, that just the presence of numbers on playing cards can have people’s minds thinking in a math direction. If you can use a different type of card (alphabet, esp, flashcards, etc.) that might help.

8. “It’s just technology.”

“It’s an app.” “It’s voice recognition.” “You hacked my phone.”

Plugging This Hole: Good question. How do you? You might say, “Don’t perform for people who are well versed in modern technology.” But in my experience, that’s often a better audience for these types of effects. For young people, the phone is an everyday object. In fact it’s essentially an every-moment object. It feels very natural to say, “Hey, let’s look something up online and try something,” or whatever. But with Grandma, the phone is already sort of powerful and mysterious. What are the limits of its capabilities?

I once performed Wikitest for an older woman, and when I named the word she was just looked at (never spoke, typed, or wrote down) she said, “Oh my god!” (Surprise.) Then as she processed what just happened she said, “The phone must tell you what my eyes were looking at.”

Bitch, it’s YOUR phone!

So yeah, I don’t have a good way of handling this Easy Answer. I would just not build a “big” effect around something that could be explained away in this manner.

9. “It really happened.”

I know many people would be ecstatic to get this response, but if your goal is to move from Surprise to Astonishment to Mystery, then it sucks. “Mystery” doesn’t come from people really believing something happened. “Mystery” comes from knowing something couldn’t have happened, but still having the experience of it and having no rational explanation for it.

I had a wildly unsatisfying performance recently where I performed a trick where the spectator would read my mind. This isn’t intended to be the most profound effect, but it almost always gets a really strong reaction.

“Holy crap!” I said, “That’s incredible. All the cards match. That’s never happened to me before.”

Her response?

“Oh, i smoke a lot of weed. It makes you good at stuff like this. Look it up.”

Plugging This Hole: Give them a premise that is too impossible to really believe. (Unless they smoke a truly gargantuan amount of weed.)

Further Reading: The Sealed Room With the Little Door

10. “I guess there’s a way to do that.”

In the list of Easy Answers, this is the easiest of them all. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how it happened. But it couldn’t have really happened, so it’s a trick.” In the past I referred to this as the “Non-Explanation.”

Plugging This Hole: You can’t really. Eventually people are going to believe you really did it, or come to the conclusion that it must have been a trick. Those are the two options.

But you don’t want people to just jump to the Non-Explanation in the moments immediately following a trick. If they do, it suggests they’re not receptive to the experience of really powerful magic. If that’s the spectator experience you’re shooting for, then you’re trying to make them experience something they have no interest in.

So this is a hole you plug when you choose your audience. You don’t have to choose uncritical audiences. You just have to choose audiences that enjoy the potential of experiencing astonishment. And because in social magic you build up to the big effects over time, you have the chance to weed out people who aren’t open to a more profound sort of experience.

Further Reading: Dissonance

So those are the generic “Easy Answers” that you will need to address to move from Surprise to Astonishment. (In addition to addressing any specific “obvious solutions” for whatever particular trick you’re performing—threads, magnets, duplicate objects, etc.)

Next week I’ll discuss the last requirement for exceedingly powerful magic. And I’ll walk you through the full process with an example trick from the archives. I’ll also give you my rationale for why I bother. You might think it’s obvious, but I think a question worth asking is, “Do people even really want to see a magic trick that truly rattles them? Or is magic better as a more superficial form of amusement?” I’ll discuss my conclusion and how I came to it as this series continues throughout next week.