But I'm not the only one. Even if I quit it won't make any difference.
The above can apply to murder, extortion, tax evasion, copying magic books, burning a CD or DVD that isn't yours, or stealing a line from another performer.
Just because some of the behaviors are less wrong doesn't make any of them right.
Showing posts with label rants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rants. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Friday, May 23, 2008
Mentalism and movies - I disclaim the connection
I have heard far too many mentalists* brush off the use of disclaimers** with a statement like this:
"What if an actor came onscreen at the beginning of the movie and told you that he was just an actor and wasn't really the character he played, and the whole thing you were about to watch was just a story. Wouldn't that hurt your enjoyment of the movie?"
I've heard/read that statement or similar from people too numerous to mention. You'd think that an avocation as seemingly creative as mentalism would come up with different agruments (it's like all of the creative geniuses who use "out of the box" to describe creative thinking). However, my bigger argument with this is that it doesn't hold. The analogy just isn't there. Why not? Let's explore.
Who goes to movies? Most everyone. Who knows about movies? The number increases. There are magazines and websites devoted to movies, and to the various components thereof (actors, special effects, etc). A good chunk of these magazines and websites cater to the general populace. Actors are interviewed on tv and in print. (Which would, in a sense, be a version of a disclaimer: "See? I'm not really Iron Man.") In short, there is a cultural understanding about the nature of movies and how they work.
Now let's take mentalism. ("Take my mentalist, please!") Who goes to see a mentalism show? A small number of people. Who goes to see a GOOD mentalism show? That number shrinks. Considerably. And while there are websites and publications that deal with the intricacies of mentalism, the vast majority don't cater to the general public. In fact, the average person on the street is much more likely to have heard/heard of/seen Jonathan Edward, Sylvia Browne or Allison DuBois than Max Maven, Banachek or
Derren Brown. This means that the cultural expectation for those who deal in psychic phenomenon is that one is either
a. real, or
b. a big old slimy fraud
depending on one's perceptions of the aforementioned Edward, Browne, and DuBoise.
While I agree that it may be bad theater to tip your hand prior to the show, I think many take it too far. To extend the analogy, it doesn't lessen my enjoyment of the Indiana Jones movies to see an interview with Harrison Ford, where he tells us that in his next film he will play a completely different character.
I know there are people who are going to believe no matter what. After one of my own shows I had a lady call me and ask if I could tell her where her missing opera tickets were. But guess what. Even with the cultural knowledge regarding movies, there are some people who believe them. Watch the documentary "Trekkies" to see some examples. Or check out the number of people who have listed "Jedi" as their religious affiliation. Just because I think some people are deluded doesn't mean I have to feed the delusion.
I know I won't convince many to change their tune here, just as their "argument" doesn't convince me. If anything, though, I'd like them to take a look at that hoary "but what if an actor..." analogy that so many use and see it for the straw man it really is.
_____________________________________________________
* For the uninitiated: a "mentalist" is an entertainer who specializes in the theatrical pretense of psychic abilities.
** A "disclaimer" is an acknowledgement that one is indeed not a real psychic.
"What if an actor came onscreen at the beginning of the movie and told you that he was just an actor and wasn't really the character he played, and the whole thing you were about to watch was just a story. Wouldn't that hurt your enjoyment of the movie?"
I've heard/read that statement or similar from people too numerous to mention. You'd think that an avocation as seemingly creative as mentalism would come up with different agruments (it's like all of the creative geniuses who use "out of the box" to describe creative thinking). However, my bigger argument with this is that it doesn't hold. The analogy just isn't there. Why not? Let's explore.
Who goes to movies? Most everyone. Who knows about movies? The number increases. There are magazines and websites devoted to movies, and to the various components thereof (actors, special effects, etc). A good chunk of these magazines and websites cater to the general populace. Actors are interviewed on tv and in print. (Which would, in a sense, be a version of a disclaimer: "See? I'm not really Iron Man.") In short, there is a cultural understanding about the nature of movies and how they work.
Now let's take mentalism. ("Take my mentalist, please!") Who goes to see a mentalism show? A small number of people. Who goes to see a GOOD mentalism show? That number shrinks. Considerably. And while there are websites and publications that deal with the intricacies of mentalism, the vast majority don't cater to the general public. In fact, the average person on the street is much more likely to have heard/heard of/seen Jonathan Edward, Sylvia Browne or Allison DuBois than Max Maven, Banachek or
Derren Brown. This means that the cultural expectation for those who deal in psychic phenomenon is that one is either
a. real, or
b. a big old slimy fraud
depending on one's perceptions of the aforementioned Edward, Browne, and DuBoise.
While I agree that it may be bad theater to tip your hand prior to the show, I think many take it too far. To extend the analogy, it doesn't lessen my enjoyment of the Indiana Jones movies to see an interview with Harrison Ford, where he tells us that in his next film he will play a completely different character.
I know there are people who are going to believe no matter what. After one of my own shows I had a lady call me and ask if I could tell her where her missing opera tickets were. But guess what. Even with the cultural knowledge regarding movies, there are some people who believe them. Watch the documentary "Trekkies" to see some examples. Or check out the number of people who have listed "Jedi" as their religious affiliation. Just because I think some people are deluded doesn't mean I have to feed the delusion.
I know I won't convince many to change their tune here, just as their "argument" doesn't convince me. If anything, though, I'd like them to take a look at that hoary "but what if an actor..." analogy that so many use and see it for the straw man it really is.
_____________________________________________________
* For the uninitiated: a "mentalist" is an entertainer who specializes in the theatrical pretense of psychic abilities.
** A "disclaimer" is an acknowledgement that one is indeed not a real psychic.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
I'm a big advocate
I've recently become interested in autism, for reasons I haven't quite fathomed yet. My interest has led me to some fascinating books (Born on a Blue Day by Daniel Tammet) and web sites.
An offshoot of my interest in autism has been a sea change in the way I view disability rights. Many of the blogs I read, for example, see the Jerry Lewis Muscular Dystrophy telethon as really harmful to those rights. The argument is that it promotes a "look at the poor crippled people" model of disability. It came as quite a shock to me how many people with what I used to see as afflictions do not want to be "cured," and see what they have, be it autism, deafness, muscular dystrophy or whatever, as an integral part of who they are.
There is a way that this relates directly to me, and a blog I read links to a really emotional series of posts on the issue. You see, I'm overweight, and prejudice against fat people is perfectly acceptable in our society. I have several blogs, and it's one reason you'll never see my real picture on any of my blogs: it makes my words too easy to dismiss.
A gentleman who used to be a friend but who I now no longer know or understand started randomly posting unneccesary criticisms of people on a bulletin board he runs. When I called him on it he seemed to think it was OK to do this, then later on the board, in the same thread, posted this gem regarding people who wear Star Trek uniforms:
Now mind you we first met in the late 1970s and last saw each other a few months ago, so he's perfectly aware that I tip the scales at near his 300 pound (gross weight?) limit. So let's see what he's saying here: an overweight person attending a Star Trek convention with other conventioneers shouldn't be able to dress as his favorite character simply because of his weight. The options, I suppose, would be to pick a costume that hides one's weight (yeah, right) or to not attend the convention. I wouldn't have said this before, but I wonder if the latter might be my former friend's preference.
I've been fairly silent and ashamed up to now regarding my weight and the way others see it as a fair target. I'm trying to change that. The blogs I read have given me a little courage, and with some work perhaps I'll get a little more, and stand up to the idiots who think it's OK to denigrate fat people.
And perhaps I'll show up at a Thundercon, proudly wearing a Starfleet uniform. To hell with what any bulletin board moderators think.
An offshoot of my interest in autism has been a sea change in the way I view disability rights. Many of the blogs I read, for example, see the Jerry Lewis Muscular Dystrophy telethon as really harmful to those rights. The argument is that it promotes a "look at the poor crippled people" model of disability. It came as quite a shock to me how many people with what I used to see as afflictions do not want to be "cured," and see what they have, be it autism, deafness, muscular dystrophy or whatever, as an integral part of who they are.
There is a way that this relates directly to me, and a blog I read links to a really emotional series of posts on the issue. You see, I'm overweight, and prejudice against fat people is perfectly acceptable in our society. I have several blogs, and it's one reason you'll never see my real picture on any of my blogs: it makes my words too easy to dismiss.
A gentleman who used to be a friend but who I now no longer know or understand started randomly posting unneccesary criticisms of people on a bulletin board he runs. When I called him on it he seemed to think it was OK to do this, then later on the board, in the same thread, posted this gem regarding people who wear Star Trek uniforms:
I can better understand it at a Star Trek convention...but it still gets me to see, oh, say, a 300-pound man wearing the uniform proudly, even at Thundercon. The one I saw was out of breath, overflowing a folding chair in the hallway. This is nothing against 300-pound men, mind you; it's just that it looks no more fitting than the same guy wearing a Speedo. It jars the senses, and it gets me that he doesn't see that. It's not his appearance that's at issue; it's his blind spot. I guess that being a tad wider myself than my height (or lack of it) should allow, I feel he should represent us chubbies a little better, by golly.
Now mind you we first met in the late 1970s and last saw each other a few months ago, so he's perfectly aware that I tip the scales at near his 300 pound (gross weight?) limit. So let's see what he's saying here: an overweight person attending a Star Trek convention with other conventioneers shouldn't be able to dress as his favorite character simply because of his weight. The options, I suppose, would be to pick a costume that hides one's weight (yeah, right) or to not attend the convention. I wouldn't have said this before, but I wonder if the latter might be my former friend's preference.
I've been fairly silent and ashamed up to now regarding my weight and the way others see it as a fair target. I'm trying to change that. The blogs I read have given me a little courage, and with some work perhaps I'll get a little more, and stand up to the idiots who think it's OK to denigrate fat people.
And perhaps I'll show up at a Thundercon, proudly wearing a Starfleet uniform. To hell with what any bulletin board moderators think.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Delirium
My wife and I went to see the Cirque Du Soleil show Delirium last night. For want of a better word, it was magical.
The acts, the music, the costumes, it just all came together in a wonderful experience (odd, because Delirium is a pastiche of past Cirque shows).
It makes our magic (you know: the cards and coins and sponge ding-dongs and clueless schmucks who pull bras from hapless teens [and pre-teens -- I've seen it!] and "no, the clean hand") look like the tripe it is.
The acts, the music, the costumes, it just all came together in a wonderful experience (odd, because Delirium is a pastiche of past Cirque shows).
It makes our magic (you know: the cards and coins and sponge ding-dongs and clueless schmucks who pull bras from hapless teens [and pre-teens -- I've seen it!] and "no, the clean hand") look like the tripe it is.
Friday, December 29, 2006
A weighty issue
Once upon a time there was an online magic group. This group was supposedly composed of Magic Utopians who were convinced they could rise above the pettiness, sameness and bitterness that infuses so much of magic.
I wish.
In a recent post to said group, one James Hamilton ("Compars"), in responding to a thread on straitjacket escapes, threw in this paragraph:
To which I responded:
No one else in the group seemed offended by his statement. Perhaps I'm the only ugly one in the group.
I'd be curious to hear Mr. Hamilton's cutoff age and body mass index for doing escapes. In fact, I asked these very questions, but the moderator vetoed my post. Odd that he OKed Mr. Hamilton's original post, but not mine. Apparently it's perfectly fine to be prejudiced against older fat people but not fine to question said prejudices.
I'd also like to know if other standards of attractiveness come into play, and if they just exclude one from escapes. I have scars, I'm balding, and I walk with a limp that is fairly pronounced at times. Hell, maybe I shouldn't even get on stage at all.
Given that I'm the only one who complained about Mr. Hamilton's statement (the moderator complimented him on his post) I question just how Utopian this group really is.
********************
Addendum: Magic Utopia blog has removed this blog from its blogrolls. I will keep the Magic Utopia blog in mine.
A question: if the adjective in the offending post had been "black," or "gay," or "female," would the moderators have let Mr. Hamilton's post stand without comment? I think not. Why, then, was "fat" allowed to stand? I postulate that it is a shared prejudice. I wait to be proved wrong.
I wish.
In a recent post to said group, one James Hamilton ("Compars"), in responding to a thread on straitjacket escapes, threw in this paragraph:
The other problem I have is so many of the people doing straight jacket escapes are middle age guys who are a tad bit overweight. Nothing more disgusting or should I say pathetic watching a fat man rolling around on a stage. In my lifetime, I have probably seen only 2-3 entertaining S/J escapes.
To which I responded:
So if one is middle aged and/or overweight one should refrain from doing escapes? Or should one just make sure you aren't in the audience?
No one else in the group seemed offended by his statement. Perhaps I'm the only ugly one in the group.
I'd be curious to hear Mr. Hamilton's cutoff age and body mass index for doing escapes. In fact, I asked these very questions, but the moderator vetoed my post. Odd that he OKed Mr. Hamilton's original post, but not mine. Apparently it's perfectly fine to be prejudiced against older fat people but not fine to question said prejudices.
I'd also like to know if other standards of attractiveness come into play, and if they just exclude one from escapes. I have scars, I'm balding, and I walk with a limp that is fairly pronounced at times. Hell, maybe I shouldn't even get on stage at all.
Given that I'm the only one who complained about Mr. Hamilton's statement (the moderator complimented him on his post) I question just how Utopian this group really is.
********************
Addendum: Magic Utopia blog has removed this blog from its blogrolls. I will keep the Magic Utopia blog in mine.
A question: if the adjective in the offending post had been "black," or "gay," or "female," would the moderators have let Mr. Hamilton's post stand without comment? I think not. Why, then, was "fat" allowed to stand? I postulate that it is a shared prejudice. I wait to be proved wrong.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Monty Python notwithstanding...
...I hate spam. Let me say it again:
I. Hate. Spam.
So when I received an unsolicited advertisement from James George I was a little miffed.
(For the uninitiated, James George is the inventor of the ITR, mini ITR, micro ITR, ITR in pen, ITR in briefcase, ITR in ham sandwich, ITR in small mammal, ITR in rectal cavity, ITR in...Well, you get the picture. He's a veritable font of creativity - if it involves an ITR.)
I emailed him expressing my displeasure that I had received an unsolicited ad (because, remember, I. Hate. Spam.). I also noted that, because he spammed me I would not buy anything from his company or anything produced by him.
He responded thusly:
Consider myself black balled? First of all it's one word - "blackballed", second, hardly a threat since I had already "black balled" myself from his site and his products. Thirdly, and he knows this as well as I do, nobody signed me up. He harvested my email address from some magic web site and doesn't want to 'fess up to it.
Oh, and the first email wasn't enough so he sent a "P.S.:"
Had he not added that little bon mot I would have let the whole thing go. But hey, "Get a life?" I'm betting his magic performances are as original as his insults. In any event I emailed him congratulating him on his continued good PR and explained that I would be sharing it with my magical friends. His response (and yes, he continues to respond, Lord knows why):
I continue my relatively polite responses (I've signed off every one with "Have a nice day"), this time only thanking him for his continued responses and urging him to continue to do so.
His response:
I tried to respond with this:
He's blocked my address. Finally. First sensible thing he's done in this whole exchange.
Damn spammers.
I. Hate. Spam.
So when I received an unsolicited advertisement from James George I was a little miffed.
(For the uninitiated, James George is the inventor of the ITR, mini ITR, micro ITR, ITR in pen, ITR in briefcase, ITR in ham sandwich, ITR in small mammal, ITR in rectal cavity, ITR in...Well, you get the picture. He's a veritable font of creativity - if it involves an ITR.)
I emailed him expressing my displeasure that I had received an unsolicited ad (because, remember, I. Hate. Spam.). I also noted that, because he spammed me I would not buy anything from his company or anything produced by him.
He responded thusly:
Well I didn't sign you up!
But suit yourself, we will note your name and never allow you to buy products from our site.
We are the company that invented the Invisible Thread Reel. Just so you know, many of our new inventions are exclusive to us and not available anywhere else.
Consider yourself black balled from our site.
Kind
Regards,
James George
CEO Sorcery
manufacturing
P.s. Add yourself to our Newsletter at MyITR.Com right now, and receive a FREE E-book on Invisible Thread and the ITR. This includes ten fantastic effects that are professional quality, these are routines that you will use, no pipe dreams. One of them, you make a borrowed ring float through the air and into a spectator's hand and you walk away clean.
Consider myself black balled? First of all it's one word - "blackballed", second, hardly a threat since I had already "black balled" myself from his site and his products. Thirdly, and he knows this as well as I do, nobody signed me up. He harvested my email address from some magic web site and doesn't want to 'fess up to it.
Oh, and the first email wasn't enough so he sent a "P.S.:"
Oh and
Get a Life!
Had he not added that little bon mot I would have let the whole thing go. But hey, "Get a life?" I'm betting his magic performances are as original as his insults. In any event I emailed him congratulating him on his continued good PR and explained that I would be sharing it with my magical friends. His response (and yes, he continues to respond, Lord knows why):
Like I said,Notice that (A) He repeats the dubious claim that someone signed me up for his site, and (B) He actually understands that being signed up for his site is a punishment.
Bug off and get a life.
I am sure someone who was pissed off at you signed you up. I can see why they would do this, you are both petty and boring.
I continue my relatively polite responses (I've signed off every one with "Have a nice day"), this time only thanking him for his continued responses and urging him to continue to do so.
His response:
Yawn...ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
I tried to respond with this:
But it was rejected becauseYou haven't figured it out yet, so I'll spell it out, using small words so you'll understand: I have only responded to emails you send. If you don't send one, I don't respond. Hasn't happened yet, won't happen. You're the spammer here, I'm just responding. If this is boring you, then quit, spammer.
Have a nice day.
User unknown
He's blocked my address. Finally. First sensible thing he's done in this whole exchange.
Damn spammers.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Max and Minch and Protocols - oh my!
The cat's out of the bag regarding the contents of Max Maven's book The Protocols of the Elders of Magic (a title I still find a wee distasteful).
Bloggers everywhere (not here) have revealed it, and Jamy Ian Swiss spilled the beans in his review in the December issue of Genii.
I still have to wonder: Would the book have sold out - especially prior to release - if people knew what they were buying?
Bloggers everywhere (not here) have revealed it, and Jamy Ian Swiss spilled the beans in his review in the December issue of Genii.
I still have to wonder: Would the book have sold out - especially prior to release - if people knew what they were buying?
Monday, November 14, 2005
It was bad, but at least nobody watched
The latest Penn & Teller special (Off the Deep End) looked, from my point of view, to be a carbon copy of everything they've been railing against for years.
And to think I used to respect them.
The good news? They tanked (no pun intended) in the ratings.
And to think I used to respect them.
The good news? They tanked (no pun intended) in the ratings.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
So why do I keep coming back...
...if magic and magicians suck as hard as I say they do?
Good question.
A couple of reasons, I think. The first sounds a bit like a Zen koan. I was in bitch mode one time, threatening to quit the whole magic mess, when an acquaintance hit me with these words: "You can't quit. You didn't choose magic. It chose you." I haven't heard from that acquaintance for a number of years but I have pondered those words often since he spoke them to me a couple of decades ago.
The other reason can be summed up in a song lyric that I'll get to in a minute. There are dilettantes in magic, and dumb shits, and dickheads, but some of my closest friends and some of my finest hours have been due to magic and magicians - it's just easier sometimes, when life seems to be a little rougher than you'd wish, to write about the bad stuff. Oh, that lyric?
Those who know me will know the artist. Those who don't can use a good search engine (I recommend vivisimo). And if you think the lyric refers to you, it probably does.
Speaking of which, if you're interested in learning more about magic, you might go here.
Good question.
A couple of reasons, I think. The first sounds a bit like a Zen koan. I was in bitch mode one time, threatening to quit the whole magic mess, when an acquaintance hit me with these words: "You can't quit. You didn't choose magic. It chose you." I haven't heard from that acquaintance for a number of years but I have pondered those words often since he spoke them to me a couple of decades ago.
The other reason can be summed up in a song lyric that I'll get to in a minute. There are dilettantes in magic, and dumb shits, and dickheads, but some of my closest friends and some of my finest hours have been due to magic and magicians - it's just easier sometimes, when life seems to be a little rougher than you'd wish, to write about the bad stuff. Oh, that lyric?
The moon has a face
And it smiles on the lake
And causes the ripples in Time
I'm lucky to be here
With someone I like
Who maketh my spirit to shine
Those who know me will know the artist. Those who don't can use a good search engine (I recommend vivisimo). And if you think the lyric refers to you, it probably does.
Speaking of which, if you're interested in learning more about magic, you might go here.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Fringes
I want magic to be more of a mainstream art. I don't want it to be a diversion, something "for the kiddies," a placeholder between the eating of the cake and the opening of the gifts. When people speak of great artists I'd like Cardini to be discussed along with Nureyev and Shakespeare and Monet and Enrico Caruso.
Then again, I'd love for horror fiction to not be considered "genre" fiction, and for good horror writers to be discussed as good writers, not as good "in their field". And when I played table tennis I longed for the day when people considered it a real sport and not just some genteel parlor recreation. I'd recite the facts about how a table tennis match provides the same aerobic exercise as a three mile race but you'd only get bored and it wouldn't change your mind anyway.
The point of all this? I'm not sure there is one, except that maybe I'm involved in so many fringe pursuits that I don't fit in anywhere. I'm a minority of one. This isn't always something to celebrate if one is looking for connections.
Then again, I'd love for horror fiction to not be considered "genre" fiction, and for good horror writers to be discussed as good writers, not as good "in their field". And when I played table tennis I longed for the day when people considered it a real sport and not just some genteel parlor recreation. I'd recite the facts about how a table tennis match provides the same aerobic exercise as a three mile race but you'd only get bored and it wouldn't change your mind anyway.
The point of all this? I'm not sure there is one, except that maybe I'm involved in so many fringe pursuits that I don't fit in anywhere. I'm a minority of one. This isn't always something to celebrate if one is looking for connections.
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Magic sucks
A secondhand story, but from two sources, both of whom I consider reliable:
The setting: The local magic club meeting
The cast: The club regulars, along with a couple of visitors
The plot: Secrets may be revealed to people who are (gasp!) not club members, sending some into a tizzy
The theme: magicians are idiots
So there were visitors at the local magic club this particular night. Not an issue, right? You'd think not, but we're not dealing with reasonable people here - we're dealing with magicians. Any intersection between magicians and common sense is purely coincidental, and if you're concerned, don't be. The union won't last long.
During one of the segments anyone who signed up was to perform, then teach, a trick. None of the tricks were earth-shattering. None were proprietary. In fact, all of the effects taught that night are available for free in books at my local library.
And the visitors...Were they just people who wandered in off the street? Were they hooligans who somehow crashed this exclusive magicians soiree? Nope, they were recent graduates of a magic camp who had been told about this 'wonderful' club by the proprietors of the camp.
I'm betting you're getting ahead of me at this point. Anyway, the time comes to teach these ever-so-valuable secrets and a hue and cry goes up: we must not allow the visitors to stay while we exhibit our superior knowledge! A debate ensues. After much haranguing and hair-pulling it is decided that perhaps, just this once, these neophytes can be allowed a peek behind the curtain.
Bah.
They had already demonstrated an interest in magic by graduating from the magic camp, and by seeking out the club. And the difference between those deemed worthy to learn these deep, dark secrets and those doomed to ignorance? Fifteen dollars. That's right. No test, no initiation, no apprenticeship. Hand me your check and we ain't got no problem.
There are those in magic who have a slavish devotion to keeping the secrets of magic, well, secret. Unfortunately they often do this blindly, never looking to see if what they are doing is causing a greater harm.
If I were among those visitors that night I would have grabbed my wallet, headed toward the door, and bid those creepy magicians a fond farewell, letting them keep their 'secrets' as I went off and learned magic.
Peace.
The setting: The local magic club meeting
The cast: The club regulars, along with a couple of visitors
The plot: Secrets may be revealed to people who are (gasp!) not club members, sending some into a tizzy
The theme: magicians are idiots
So there were visitors at the local magic club this particular night. Not an issue, right? You'd think not, but we're not dealing with reasonable people here - we're dealing with magicians. Any intersection between magicians and common sense is purely coincidental, and if you're concerned, don't be. The union won't last long.
During one of the segments anyone who signed up was to perform, then teach, a trick. None of the tricks were earth-shattering. None were proprietary. In fact, all of the effects taught that night are available for free in books at my local library.
And the visitors...Were they just people who wandered in off the street? Were they hooligans who somehow crashed this exclusive magicians soiree? Nope, they were recent graduates of a magic camp who had been told about this 'wonderful' club by the proprietors of the camp.
I'm betting you're getting ahead of me at this point. Anyway, the time comes to teach these ever-so-valuable secrets and a hue and cry goes up: we must not allow the visitors to stay while we exhibit our superior knowledge! A debate ensues. After much haranguing and hair-pulling it is decided that perhaps, just this once, these neophytes can be allowed a peek behind the curtain.
Bah.
They had already demonstrated an interest in magic by graduating from the magic camp, and by seeking out the club. And the difference between those deemed worthy to learn these deep, dark secrets and those doomed to ignorance? Fifteen dollars. That's right. No test, no initiation, no apprenticeship. Hand me your check and we ain't got no problem.
There are those in magic who have a slavish devotion to keeping the secrets of magic, well, secret. Unfortunately they often do this blindly, never looking to see if what they are doing is causing a greater harm.
If I were among those visitors that night I would have grabbed my wallet, headed toward the door, and bid those creepy magicians a fond farewell, letting them keep their 'secrets' as I went off and learned magic.
Peace.
Friday, September 16, 2005
Carry On, Wayward Son
Ah, but can life ever return to normal? And what is "normal"? And why do I post way past my bedtime so you have to read this unintelligible drivel?
I've found it hard to settle back into any sort of rhythm lately, and to get excited about magic. I mean, who cares? Card tricks. Bleh. In the grand scheme, it's nothing. That's the thing about performance art anyway -- by it's very nature it's ephemeral. Writers can create things that last at least hundreds of years. Ditto painters and sculptors. But once a dancer or an actor or a magician is done, his or her creation is gone, less than a puff of smoke, no more impression than a shadow.
Great performance artists at least can leave memories. Magicians are still talking about Hofzinser (but, to prove my point, ask 1000 members of the general public who he was...), Lionel Barrymore's name still comes up in acting circles, jugglers still talk about Enrico Rastelli and singers still mention Jenny Lind. But who am I kiddin'? I never was a great performance artist. I'd have to work hard to scratch my way up to mediocre. I'm not even good in my circle of performance acquaintances. So why care? Why keep it up? Why get excited?
Maybe it's just the circumstances -- all that's happened recently, and the fact that I'm posting this way past my bedtime in a quiet apartment after a tough day at work. Or maybe it really doesn't matter any more and I need to find something to do with the shelves full of magic books and the decks of cards and the half dollars that nobody else but magic nerds carry. There's always eBay.
Peace.
I've found it hard to settle back into any sort of rhythm lately, and to get excited about magic. I mean, who cares? Card tricks. Bleh. In the grand scheme, it's nothing. That's the thing about performance art anyway -- by it's very nature it's ephemeral. Writers can create things that last at least hundreds of years. Ditto painters and sculptors. But once a dancer or an actor or a magician is done, his or her creation is gone, less than a puff of smoke, no more impression than a shadow.
Great performance artists at least can leave memories. Magicians are still talking about Hofzinser (but, to prove my point, ask 1000 members of the general public who he was...), Lionel Barrymore's name still comes up in acting circles, jugglers still talk about Enrico Rastelli and singers still mention Jenny Lind. But who am I kiddin'? I never was a great performance artist. I'd have to work hard to scratch my way up to mediocre. I'm not even good in my circle of performance acquaintances. So why care? Why keep it up? Why get excited?
Maybe it's just the circumstances -- all that's happened recently, and the fact that I'm posting this way past my bedtime in a quiet apartment after a tough day at work. Or maybe it really doesn't matter any more and I need to find something to do with the shelves full of magic books and the decks of cards and the half dollars that nobody else but magic nerds carry. There's always eBay.
Peace.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
I never thought this tunnel would be so long
I'm on a couple of magic message boards. On several of them people have complained about the Criss Angel (or "Chris", or "Cris" or "Angle") specials because on several of them - the helicopter fishhook suspension, for example - he does things that aren't magic.
What?
Darren Romeo sings in his magic act. Should we criticize him? Goldfinger and Dove dance. Is that wrong? Arguably the most famous name in magic, Houdini, mostly did escapes, not magic.
I would also bet that most of the people offering up the criticism of Criss/Cris/Chris Angel/Angle also do the odd balloon animal or bit of juggling. But again, it's always the other guy that's wrong, isn't it?
I found some things I didn't care for on the two Krissss Anjul shows I watched, but bashing him because he did things that weren't magic? Come on. He didn't sign a pact with you, me or anyone that said, "I will do magician's tricks and only magician's tricks, so help me [insert your favorite demon here]."
Shows with only one thematic element have no texture. Fault Mr. Ainchel for many things, but at least he has vision.
It astounds me that in a pursuit that should attract creative types and stimulate the mind as much as magic should, that so many of us suffer from constipation of the imagination.
What?
Darren Romeo sings in his magic act. Should we criticize him? Goldfinger and Dove dance. Is that wrong? Arguably the most famous name in magic, Houdini, mostly did escapes, not magic.
I would also bet that most of the people offering up the criticism of Criss/Cris/Chris Angel/Angle also do the odd balloon animal or bit of juggling. But again, it's always the other guy that's wrong, isn't it?
I found some things I didn't care for on the two Krissss Anjul shows I watched, but bashing him because he did things that weren't magic? Come on. He didn't sign a pact with you, me or anyone that said, "I will do magician's tricks and only magician's tricks, so help me [insert your favorite demon here]."
Shows with only one thematic element have no texture. Fault Mr. Ainchel for many things, but at least he has vision.
It astounds me that in a pursuit that should attract creative types and stimulate the mind as much as magic should, that so many of us suffer from constipation of the imagination.
Monday, August 08, 2005
Tunnel vision, pt. 2
Many magicians (and I'm being generous with the term...) bemoan magic's standing among the arts. They want it to be taken as seriously as film or writing or dance or music. Ask them to quit wearing the same tuxedo they've been wearing for 25 years, though, and using the same stolen lines they've been using even longer, and you'll get variations on, "But the audience loves me!" It's always the other guy who is holding magic back. Me, I'm doing the classics.
Saturday, August 06, 2005
Tunnel vision
I'm about a fourth of the way through the latest Harry Potter book. I'm a fan: I think Ms. Rowling's a good writer who deserves all the perks that have come her way. I'm hesitant to jump on the Harry Potter bandwagon vis a vis magic routining, though. Because that's what it is - a bandwagon.
Magicians have tunnel vision when it comes to putting together magic routines. They do magic about magic. Our "stories" are about finding cards or producing birds or pulling middles out of vacuously smiling girls because, well, because we can.
Every now and then someone gets "creative" and notices that the Harry Potter books and movies have the word "magic" in them, so there must be a tie-in to that stuff we do. So the next time that ever-so-creative individual does a mathematical card trick he doesn't call them cards, he calls them house-elves and poof! a new routine is born! (The really creative ones also notice there are wizards and such in the Tolkein books/movies so the terms they steal and use incorrectly come from those sources.)
Imagine if all movies referenced movies, or all songs were about music. How incredibly boring, just like most magic! The movies I love are about universal themes: love, loss, death, betrayal, redemption. For that matter, so are the Tolkein and Rowling books. But in our narrow focus we don't want to touch it, or don't know how, unless it explicitly says "magic."
Magic is just a vehicle. It is our song, our movie, our book, our dance. It is a means of expression, a way to tell a story. If the story you want to tell is, "I can do silly little inbred things that may fool you if you don't think about them for too long," fine. My ambition is to tell greater stories than that.
Magicians have tunnel vision when it comes to putting together magic routines. They do magic about magic. Our "stories" are about finding cards or producing birds or pulling middles out of vacuously smiling girls because, well, because we can.
Every now and then someone gets "creative" and notices that the Harry Potter books and movies have the word "magic" in them, so there must be a tie-in to that stuff we do. So the next time that ever-so-creative individual does a mathematical card trick he doesn't call them cards, he calls them house-elves and poof! a new routine is born! (The really creative ones also notice there are wizards and such in the Tolkein books/movies so the terms they steal and use incorrectly come from those sources.)
Imagine if all movies referenced movies, or all songs were about music. How incredibly boring, just like most magic! The movies I love are about universal themes: love, loss, death, betrayal, redemption. For that matter, so are the Tolkein and Rowling books. But in our narrow focus we don't want to touch it, or don't know how, unless it explicitly says "magic."
Magic is just a vehicle. It is our song, our movie, our book, our dance. It is a means of expression, a way to tell a story. If the story you want to tell is, "I can do silly little inbred things that may fool you if you don't think about them for too long," fine. My ambition is to tell greater stories than that.
Saturday, July 30, 2005
You're not all that
A good magic critic is hard to find. Friends either don't want to hurt your feelings or don't know enough to be helpful. Strangers? Fuhgettaboutit. Look at most of the blogs and talk to most of the members of your average magic club and you'll see the results of this: they think they're Buddha's gift to magic.
Since magic isn't as prevalent as music, acting or painting, most people don't have much, if any, basis for comparison. And since most magicians spend damn little time on their art, ten minutes "routining" my dove pan makes me look, relatively speaking, like a genius.
If everyone is telling you you're the second coming of [insert your favorite magician here], then you have little incentive to work on your act, and then where's the improvement? I think the acts that became incredibly entertaining - the Bill Malones, the Tina Lenerts, the Max Mavens, the Cardinis - actively sought out people who told them they sucked. It didn't stop there, though. They found out where and why they sucked, then they worked to eliminate those weak spots.
Even if you're a hobbyist, performing for your friends down at the bar, don't you want to be a better hobbyist? Don't you owe it to your drunk friends to give them the best experience you possibly can?
I've slacked at times, but I've also had a hell of a time getting honest feedback. I want to improve. I want to be the next Cardini, Dunninger, whoever. So next time I ask you for feedback, don't hold back. Tell me where I suck, and how I might improve. Don't worry about hurting my feelings. I'm a big boy. I'll get over it.
Since magic isn't as prevalent as music, acting or painting, most people don't have much, if any, basis for comparison. And since most magicians spend damn little time on their art, ten minutes "routining" my dove pan makes me look, relatively speaking, like a genius.
If everyone is telling you you're the second coming of [insert your favorite magician here], then you have little incentive to work on your act, and then where's the improvement? I think the acts that became incredibly entertaining - the Bill Malones, the Tina Lenerts, the Max Mavens, the Cardinis - actively sought out people who told them they sucked. It didn't stop there, though. They found out where and why they sucked, then they worked to eliminate those weak spots.
Even if you're a hobbyist, performing for your friends down at the bar, don't you want to be a better hobbyist? Don't you owe it to your drunk friends to give them the best experience you possibly can?
I've slacked at times, but I've also had a hell of a time getting honest feedback. I want to improve. I want to be the next Cardini, Dunninger, whoever. So next time I ask you for feedback, don't hold back. Tell me where I suck, and how I might improve. Don't worry about hurting my feelings. I'm a big boy. I'll get over it.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Torn up about a failure of imagination
Lots of people are coming out with torn and restored card plots and methods. Reviews on methods are mixed - Daniel Garcia's "Torn" seems to get fairly uniformly high marks - but many (most?) of the reviewers take issue with the torn and restored card effect. They wonder why there is so much attention paid to what they consider at best a throwaway piece, and at worst a worthless, non-magical non-effect. I consider this a failure of imagination on the reviewers' part.
Magic almost never has intrinsic meaning. We (the magicians) usually have to provide a framework that imbues the piece with something that grabs the spectator with more than, "Look at what I can do!" I think anything we can mutilate then restore provides the possibility for such a framework. If what I just wrote doesn't bring to mind "loss and redemption" you either aren't awake or are way too literal to be a magician anyway.
On a more mundane level, spectators are often freaked when we destroy a card. (I've never understood why...I can replace the deck for under $3.00.) When I perform, say, Card Warp, one of the things that gets to people is that I would purposely tear up cards. It would be a nifty follow-up to show them that hey, it's no big deal, because you can always put them back together again.
So the torn and restored card is not about tearing a card and putting it back together again. It's about doing something you regret, then redeeming yourself and regaining that which was lost.
If you're not seeing that, good luck with your dove pan.
Magic almost never has intrinsic meaning. We (the magicians) usually have to provide a framework that imbues the piece with something that grabs the spectator with more than, "Look at what I can do!" I think anything we can mutilate then restore provides the possibility for such a framework. If what I just wrote doesn't bring to mind "loss and redemption" you either aren't awake or are way too literal to be a magician anyway.
On a more mundane level, spectators are often freaked when we destroy a card. (I've never understood why...I can replace the deck for under $3.00.) When I perform, say, Card Warp, one of the things that gets to people is that I would purposely tear up cards. It would be a nifty follow-up to show them that hey, it's no big deal, because you can always put them back together again.
So the torn and restored card is not about tearing a card and putting it back together again. It's about doing something you regret, then redeeming yourself and regaining that which was lost.
If you're not seeing that, good luck with your dove pan.
Friday, July 15, 2005
Performance art
I admire lots of people in magic. I admire the collectors and writers for preserving our history. I admire the creators for giving us such marvelous new wonders. But magic is, if nothing else, a performing art. And it is the performers I admire most of all.
What do the collectors collect? That which belonged to (or was identified with) a performer. Who do writers write for, and about? Performers. Do creators create in a vacuum? No, although many creations suck. They create so their offspring can be performed.
Collectors, writers and creators ply their trades for themselves or for other magicians, mostly. Even if they do so for the general public it is for a really small subset. Performers, though, are for the world.
After all, a magic effect doesn't need props, or music, or a script. It really only needs an audience. And a true performer is all about the audience.
What do the collectors collect? That which belonged to (or was identified with) a performer. Who do writers write for, and about? Performers. Do creators create in a vacuum? No, although many creations suck. They create so their offspring can be performed.
Collectors, writers and creators ply their trades for themselves or for other magicians, mostly. Even if they do so for the general public it is for a really small subset. Performers, though, are for the world.
After all, a magic effect doesn't need props, or music, or a script. It really only needs an audience. And a true performer is all about the audience.
Saturday, July 09, 2005
Everybody picks on Sturgeon
In an interview with science fiction writer Ted Sturgeon the interviewer mentions that 90% of science fiction is crud. Sturgeon replies with what has become known as Sturgeon's Law: "...90% of everything is crud!"
Since then it's been popular to be a pessimist: to claim Sturgeon was too conservative in his percentages. I'm not that down on things, except about magic.
Magicians delude themselves. Guitarists know, for the most part, when they are not Eddie Van Halen. Hack painters are pretty much aware they are hacks. Magicians think that a day with an Invisible Deck makes them ready for the big time.
There are a number of magic blogs out there. There are maybe two that have consistent magic content and are consistently good. Other "magic" blogs either don't deal in magic much, aren't very good, or leave for really squirrelly reasons (or no reason at all). One popular blog had the tag line "For serious magicians only." As best I could tell this had to be a joke because he was never serious and never had magic content.
Magic blogs...Now there's a recipe for disaster: combine the internet - where any anonymous preteen with unresolved parental issues can share an opinion with the world, no matter how twisted - with magic, which is a magnet for social misfits.
90%? Don't be such an optimist.
Since then it's been popular to be a pessimist: to claim Sturgeon was too conservative in his percentages. I'm not that down on things, except about magic.
Magicians delude themselves. Guitarists know, for the most part, when they are not Eddie Van Halen. Hack painters are pretty much aware they are hacks. Magicians think that a day with an Invisible Deck makes them ready for the big time.
There are a number of magic blogs out there. There are maybe two that have consistent magic content and are consistently good. Other "magic" blogs either don't deal in magic much, aren't very good, or leave for really squirrelly reasons (or no reason at all). One popular blog had the tag line "For serious magicians only." As best I could tell this had to be a joke because he was never serious and never had magic content.
Magic blogs...Now there's a recipe for disaster: combine the internet - where any anonymous preteen with unresolved parental issues can share an opinion with the world, no matter how twisted - with magic, which is a magnet for social misfits.
90%? Don't be such an optimist.