Make This: Fuxpin

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

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

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

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

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

Ok? Are we on the same page? 

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

Yeah, no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You talk a little bit about ol' Teddy Ruxpin.

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

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

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

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

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

You remove a box of cassettes from the cardboard box. 

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

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

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

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

Calliope music starts again 

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

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

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

Calliope music starts. You press stop.

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

Gearing Up for the Romantic Adventure

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

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

---

From the Jerx Glossary:

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

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

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

That is the goal of the Romantic Adventure style. 

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

---

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

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

Both hesitancy and brashness can make an audience uncomfortable. 

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

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

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

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

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

Gardyloo #48

From reader C.H.

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

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

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

---

JM Beckers writes:

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

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

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

---

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

Oh christ.

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

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

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

"And if I rub this hole just right."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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