Dustings #29

2020 Supporters should have received an email yesterday to see if they want to sign up for 2021. If you’re a supporter and didn’t get the email, check your spam, and if it’s not there, let me know.


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Joshua Jay has an online show on March 3rd. You can buy tickets for it here if that’s where your life is at.

I’m not bringing this up to plug the show, but rather to make a promise to Josh. You see, whenever Josh does anything, I get a bunch of emails sent to me with people poking fun at him with jokes and bad photoshops. I want Josh to know that what you see below is the type of low-energy ball-busting that I won’t permit on my site.

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Show some respect to Josh, you jerks.


In Eric Jones’ Masterclass on Vanishing Inc, he continually referred to playing cards as “pasteboards.” I’m not a fan of this terminology. I think it’s supposed to sound fancier and shame dummies like me who just call them “cards.” But when you break it down, it’s really the most artless way to describe playing cards. If you asked the biggest moron at the playing card factory what they were doing, he’d be like:

“Well… we’re using a bunch of paste here… and we’re gluing paper together to make little—you know—little boards.”

And what do you call them?

“Uhm… hmmm… Paper-Pastey-Things? No…that’s not good… how about, Pasteboards?”

So pasteboards is actually the dumb way to refer to them. If Eric is going to use the term “pasteboards,” then I insist he keep up this overly-literal object terminology and—instead of saying he does “coin magic”—he should say, “I do magic with Metal Roundies.”

(If anyone wants some free advertising for their online lecture, just sincerely refer to coins at some point as “metal roundies” and I will happily plug your product on this site for free.)


I have zero business sense. I’ve lucked into a successful formula for keeping this site going, but that was through a unique set of circumstances that happened to fall into place. Not due to any savvy business acumen on my part.

So this probably isn’t good business advice, but tell me why this wouldn’t work. Penguin has their live lectures and Vanishing Inc has their Masterclasses. Imagine one of them decided to call their service Penguin Prime or Vanishing Prime and you got the monthly videos and free priority shipping on orders. Doesn’t it seem like if one of those companies did that:

  1. A bunch more people would sign up for the monthly subscription.

  2. People like me, who split their magic purchase around somewhat randomly between Penguin, Vanishing Inc., would now channel the majority of their purchases through the one shop that was offering the free priority shipping.

  3. People would end up purchasing more frequently to take advantage of the added service they’re getting with their monthly subscription.

And I says specifically “priority” shipping because, while both companies do have a free shipping option now, it’s this weird janky-ass shipping which sometimes take just a few days and other times you get the sense they put your package on a retarded donkey and just pointed him in your general direction.

I don’t know. Maybe it’s a bad idea. I’m sure they’ve probably run the numbers on this sort of thing. It just seems like a win-win situation. I’m sort of surprised none of the big online shops (that I know of) have incentives in place to get you to buy the magic you can get from anywhere, from them. You know? Perhaps there’s some détente in place to not try and mess around too much with prices and/or perks so they don’t have to get into some sort battle where they’re undercutting and outdoing each other. As I said, I know nothing about business.


Magical Transformations #2

My favorite part of working on the books is seeing my bad, clunky visual ideas executed beautifully.

Here is my first sketch for the most recent book cover and the preliminary sketch and final version created by Stasia Burrington.

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Zoom Magic for the Amateur Magician

It’s been interesting to see the way magic has changed since the start of the pandemic. In the days after the lockdowns started, I was doing a series of posts on this site about “Magic in the Time of Coronavirus.” Not long after that, professional magicians all over the world were reconfiguring their shows and thinking of ways they could not only continue to work in this new paradigm, but even take advantage of the opportunities presented from performing virtually rather than in person. A whole new crop of tricks popped up that would only work virtually. That’s pretty industrious of us as a community. I mean, I don’t really keep up with other performance arts in the same way, but were jugglers so quick to adapt? Did mimes take advantage of the limitations of the Zoom medium in order to be more convincing? Were they like, “Shit… I just had a great idea. I think I could actually put myself in a real glass box and no one would be able to tell. They’d just think I was really good at miming."

A lot of the advice that has come out for virtual performances over the past year has been aimed at the professional; things like how to light yourself and mic yourself and structure your show. But that sort of advice is counterproductive for the amateur who (generally) would want an online performance to feel unique and spontaneous, not planned and scripted.

For the professional performer, an online show is meant to be thought of as an “online show.” But for the amateur performer, that’s not what an online performance should feel like. Ideally the “online” nature of what they’re seeing would feel like it wasn’t a choice, it just happened that’s where this is playing out. This is advice not necessarily for pandemic-era performing, but also for any time you want to do something over Zoom going forward.

To make a video chat (or phone, or text) performance feel more organic, it should be predicated on one of these factors.

Urgency: For some reason or other, you need to show someone this thing now. It can’t wait until the next time you see that person in the flesh. You’ve had some sort of sudden insight, or you’re up against a time constraint, and you need to show this to someone immediately.

Distance: You need to show something to this particular person, but they live so far away that it’s not practical to wait until the next time you see them in person.

Convenience: You’re already on a video chat with someone and the idea of showing them a trick comes up naturally in conversation. Ideally they bring up the idea (perhaps based on something that you’ve put in the frame to hook them into a performance)

Consider these three transitions into an online magic performance:

Urgency - “Hey, I know it’s late, but I just had this idea come to me and I need to try it out while it’s still fresh. Are you able to hop on Zoom for a minute?”

Distance - “Hey, I was wondering. Are you coming to New York anytime soon?... No? Damn. I had this super vivid dream about you last night. It felt almost… prophetic in some way. I wanted to try something. Hopefully next time we see each other I’ll remember the details. Actually… are you able to hop on Zoom for a minute?”

Convenience - “Okay, great meeting. I’ll get you those figures by Thursday… huh? What’s hanging on the wall behind me? Oh… that? Oh, it’s nothing. It’s part of this thing I’m working on, but I doubt it’s really going to work. Actually… do you have a minute to try something?”

Now compare those to sending someone this text message:

“Hey. Will you get on Zoom so I can show you a magic trick?”

Do you feel how limp that is? There is nothing propelling you into the performance. Not only is it a graceless way to get into a trick, but with no other rationale behind the performance, there’s a good chance they might feel like this is a trick that must be done over video chat. 

Whereas if you’re already on video chat and they bring up the idea of you showing them something, or if you imply you want to show it to them in person but your schedules just won’t allow it, or something like that, then it’s probably not going to have the feel of a webcam-only trick.

My final piece of advice for video chat magic is to not bother with a trick you can do in person. Save that and do it for that person in real life someday. You are given the gift of being able to frame the spectator’s field of vision, and the gift of static angles, and the gift of off-screen assistants, and the gift of a less clear visual image, and the gift of using unexaminable objects with impunity. Take advantage of those gifts. I feel a trick loses at least 50% of its power when performed over video chat compared to when it’s performed in person. So if you have a trick that’s really great in person, you’re sacrificing it for a reaction that will max out at “pretty good” over video chat. It’s a waste. Instead focus on tricks that would be impossible or very difficult to pull off in real life.

Monday Mailbag #37

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Something I have been thinking a lot about is this. How can you perform comedy magic that is also strong magic? Usually - comedy magicians do stupid gag magic. But - doing strong magic contrasts with the traditional approach of being an incompetent goofball.

It seems to me the only way through this is to go down the route of what we see in modern comedy. Somebody who is delusional about what they think they are good at.

As such - my guess would be this. A magician who does strong magic - but the comedy angle is that he is delusional about the philosophical or conceptual art content of his magic - as such even though he performs strong magic - he is still a failure since he is aiming for something profound (on a conceptual art or philosophical level) when he performs - and missing the target each time.

You are funnier than me - so I thought I would run my thoughts past you. If you had to perform comedy magic (professionally and not for friends) - what approach would you take? —JM

I’m not great at answering questions like, “If you were to perform professionally how would you do _____.” Because I really spend no time thinking about it. And it seems like the sort of thing that would take months—at the very least—to sort out.

In general, though, I’ve spent more time trying to remove humor from my performances rather than add it.

One of the problems of trying to mix strong magic and strong comedy is that the most fooling magic requires a level of concentration and scrutiny on the audience’s part. But humor undermines those things. This is why there is the advice given in magic that if you want to get away with a move, you should do it on a laugh, because spectators can’t laugh and think critically at the same time. I think that’s true. And it’s fine advice if you’re trying to get away with your pass. But if your goal is to make the magic moment as strong as possible, then you usually don’t want the audience to feel their concentration was broken. You don’t want them thinking, “Oh god! That was funny! Oh wait… I forgot to watch his hands. Did he do something?”

Comedy is almost always a distraction. And for the same reason I wouldn’t want someone looking at their phone while I’m showing them a trick, I wouldn’t want them too swept up in the humor of the interaction. That’s why magic is not my vehicle for humor. I prefer to just be funny in real life. When I’m performing magic for someone, it’s usually some other experience I want to give them.

I do have some tricks where the climax is funny in some way. And what I’ve found is that there is not a simultaneous moment of laughter and astonishment. Instead, I’ll get a laugh at the “punchline” and it might take minutes for the impossibility of the effect itself to slowly build. I’m fine with this sort of reaction. The one thing the amateur magician has is time, so you don’t need to rush the reaction because you’re not going to move on to the next trick immediately.

If I had one piece of advice to give about humor and magic, it would probably be this:

The more interesting the effect is conceptually, the more humor will detract from it. If you’re making balls move from one cup to another, you are demonstrating a dull magical ability. So it makes sense to add a bunch of jokes to it. But if you’re doing something more conceptually interesting—even if it’s a silly concept—then jokes will take away from the impact of the trick, in my experience.

So, what works for me as far as the proper mix of humor and magic is to do something conceptually absurd, but to treat it seriously. Then the humor will arise from the situation, rather than being some “clever” jokes you add into the mix. For example, simply and soberly telling people I have an evil twin and pretending that is “reality” is much funnier to most people than if I treated it like a joke with a bunch of scripted lines.


Your books and blog have made my life better. Not because of a trick or a presentational idea, undoubtedly wonderful that they all are; the biggest change has been our family adoption of [the technique described in this post on how to make a relationship last]; every day when I get back from work my kids (and my wife too if she is nearby) sing a song or do a dance to celebrate. It makes my day, everyday. I’ve attached a recent recording. —CW

That’s wonderful. Thank you for sharing. But you can’t let them stop now. Your daughter might not want to sing “Daddy’s Home” when she’s a moody teenager and a boy she likes is over studying, but you MAKE her.

The good news is, you probably won’t have any issue getting your son to do that dance any time in the future. That kid was born with a gift, he’s going to want to share it.


Last year I bought a Fingerbot after you mentioned them on the blog. I was curious if you had any ideas for applications. —JB

Shit. I forgot all about that thing. I didn’t end up getting one. I thought I ordered one, but I can’t find any record of it, or any record of asking someone to get one on my behalf, so maybe I didn’t.

Here’s what I would do. When I’m outside with someone I would say, “Oh, I’m beta-testing a new magic app. Can I try something?”

I’d pick up a leaf off the ground and tear a piece off and hand it to my friend. I’d tell them to place the piece between two credit cards with RFID chips (“to protect it.”)

When they had done that I would take a picture of the rest of the leaf and have them destroy it by burning it or flushing it or whatever.

Then I’d open my phone and fiddle around with something, not showing them exactly what I was doing. “If this works, when we go back to the spot we found the leaf originally, we should find it again. The application is supposed to reset any organic matter you scan in. But apparently the app is pretty flakey. In theory it should look like the leaf traveled back in time. But that’s not what’s really happening. It’s just resetting the organic matter to a previous state.” This is a meaningless distinction, but it makes it sound like I’d given this some though.

When we go back outside and look under the tree for the leaf with the missing piece, it wouldn’t be there. “Hmm, maybe I sent it back too far. It might have just fallen from the tree before we found it originally.” Then I’d go back to my phone, make some adjustments and wait a moment. Then the leaf we destroyed—with the missing piece that matches the piece in my friend’s wallet—would fall from the tree.

This is similar to a couple other tricks I’ve done with leaves and torn-corner principles taken from card magic. But the idea of a leaf falling from the tree “on command” would add a whole new element to it. It would be a matter of rigging the Fingerbot in the tree so that it would release the duplicate leaf with the missing piece. That would require the right set-up and the right tree and the right time of year (you wouldn’t want there to already be a lot of leaves falling/on the ground), but if you could pull it off it would be pretty dope.

With some forethought you could play around even more with the concept of time-travel and nature and make a dry, dead autumn leaf fall from a tree in the middle of summer.

That’s a more ambitious use for this thing. As a day to day thing, I’d probably just use it as a secondary effect—making something fall somewhere as a side-effect of some psychic power or spirit entity or something.

Or, if I’m staying with a new woman overnight for the first time, I’ll set it up in her kitchen to knock over a glass or something. Then, in the middle of the night, I’ll wake her up. Whispering, “I heard footsteps in the other room. Does anyone else live here?” When she’s a little freaked we hear a SMASH! I’ll jump out of bed, no fear in my eyes. “Stay here. I got this.” I’ll hop into action, leave the room, and have an argument with an imaginary intruder in the other room. “Get the fuck out of here! UGH! I don’t care how hard you punch me, I will defeat you! Go! And never return!”

After I’ve “saved” her, we’ll call the police and I’ll file a fake police report. (“What did he look like? 6’10”. Solid muscle.”)

After that we’d return to the bedroom to engage in sexual activities, high on adrenaline.

The next day she would be having lunch with one of her friends. “He’s so brave! He singlehandedly removed an intruder from my house. And what a lover he is! I mean—this is going to sound crazy—but it’s almost like he has… I don’t know how to say this… an eleventh finger with which to touch and tease my body.”

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Dustings #28

As I mentioned previously, I won’t be using this site for non-magic posts anymore. There still may be some posts on productivity or mindset stuff that I’ve found works for me—as I don’t see that stuff as completely disconnected from what I write about here. But for music/tv/horror movie recommendations, and things like that, I will be using this new site. I’ll probably post at most a few times a month. There’s no need to follow it too closely unless you’re particularly inclined to. Once a month or so I’ll give a heads-up here about whatever new posts are there, so you can check it out if you’re interested.

The reason for separating out these posts is two-fold. First, to keep this site more focused, as I’m presuming most people are here just for the magic content. Second, to keep people without an interest in magic from stumbling on the site after they google some obscure band I’m into or something like that.

The blog is called Dispatches from Marmalade Falls, which is a reference to something I used to do in the old JAMM magazines.

It’s written from the perspective of an enthusiastic man who takes joy from a lot of things and who has just moved back to his hometown of Marmalade Falls to help take care of his recently widowed mother.

The “enthusiastic man who takes joy from a lot of things” is a pretty accurate self-assessment, but most of the other personal details on the site are made up.

You can find the site here.

The first three posts up now are:

A welcome post
Some favorite songs from 2020
How to enjoy TV watching more


Congratulations to Joshua Jay on the release of his new book, Dream Machine, which is a book designed to be used with young children as part of their nighttime routine before they go to bed.

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This is a great addition to the Joshua Jay series of books that put you to sleep.

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As that was my first shot at Joshua Jay in the new season, I want to make my annual point that I actually like Josh. I’m a fan of his. He’s a fan of mine. We get along perfectly fine. He’s just my go-to person to talk shit about because he can take it. (I think he can, at least. I mean, maybe he spends his nights crying into his Dream Machine book.)

My old blog, back in the mid-2000s was much more confrontational and shit-talky. Lots of people enjoyed it like that. I enjoyed it too. But now that I’m the voice of a generation of magicians, I have to be careful. They say: With great power comes… hmm… I don’t remember. Is it something about fudge? I forget what it is exactly. But I know they say something.

Anyway, with my old blog there were a bunch of fucking nerds who would want to start shit with me because I said something they didn’t like. And then I’d have to pretend like I gave a shit about them one way or the other and we’d have some public back and forth, and it was always a bloodbath because they couldn’t formulate a compelling thought to save their lives. So then it became the equivalent of them setting a ball on the tee for me, and me crushing that shit half a mile over the outfield fence. Then they’d get all mad and threaten to beat me up, threaten to get the site taken down, tell me I was going to get cancer, tell me they were going to sue me, or have me thrown in jail. (Scroll way, way down to the MCJ Advent Calendar I did on this site in December 2015 for a trip down memory lane.)

At the time, I was writing MCJ when I was working a day-job in the field of medical copywriting. So bashing some magic dullards was preferable to thinking about whatever mysterious bacteria or new breed of herpe I was supposed to be writing about. But now my time is my own, so pretending to care enough about some goof in order to write about them is just not a rewarding way to spend my time. Instead I just want to write about the things that get me excited, not pointing out how lame some other magician is. That sort of thing only works when you’re low down on the totem pole, not when you’re the Tipsie Award winning person behind the most acclaimed writing in modern magic. If I attack almost anyone it would be seen as punching down. Who can I go after? David Copperfield. Hmm… maybe, I guess. Derren Brown? That’s guy’s my puppet.

But, that being said, I do still like the artistry of some well-constructed shit-talk. So I just use Josh as the go-to butt of my jokes. That way I don’t have to deal with some angry-worded email from some other magician who didn’t have friends growing up and thus they take every silly joke as if it’s an attack.

But hey, look, if you’re someone who is known in the magic world and you’re okay with me taking shots at you as well, just send me an email with, “You have my permission to roast my ass,” in the subject line. (It would be particularly helpful to me if you’re at least somewhat fat.)


Speaking of magicians being delicate little babies who can’t handle criticism, there used to be an excellent twitter account called Magic Transcribed. This account would post video clips of magicians and transcribe their performances. That’s all the account did. They didn’t comment on the performances, they just posted them. The site was removed from twitter a few weeks ago.

I tried to figure out why and I reached out to the young lady who ran the account and a couple JERX: UK members who are also part of the Magic Circle. I had heard the Magic Circle had issues with the account and were trying to get it taken down for “bullying.” That’s a fascinating definition of the word “bullying”: posting—without comment— performance clips that were available online. There are some real fragile-ass dudes in the magic community.

Anyway, the twitter account had that going on and some DMCA strikes against it and ultimately it got removed from Twitter. But now she has an instagram, which you can find here. I’ve told her if she wants to give a more detailed explanation of what went on with the account that I’d post it here.

I’ll also post the Magic Circle’s side of the story here as well, because I guarantee you it would be hilarious.


I received a major award recently. It was quite unexpected. It just showed up in the Jerx PO Box. I don’t live in the area of the PO Box, and I didn’t know I had anything coming, so I hadn’t told my friend who monitors the box to be looking for anything. So it came as a surprise to both of us when he randomly checked the box, found a package, and when I told him to open it up and tell me what was inside, he said, “A golden thumbtip.”

But not just any golden thumbtip. A Sarah Trustman First Annual Tipsie Award Golden Thumbtip.

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I’m no metallurgist, but the front of the award features what I believe to be a 24k gold thumbtip. The engraving on the back (done using a very expensive process that mimics the look of Sharpie marker) reads:

Sarah Trustman’s
First Annual
Tipsies
Awarded to Andy Jerxmann
For advancing magic by writing truth
2020

I didn’t know Sarah before receiving this, but it turns out she is an author, artist, mnemonist, and—I think it’s fair to say because I received this award—a keen judge of genius.

So thanks to Sarah (and Dan Harlan). With this and my Tarbell award, I am just one award* away from achieving magic’s Triple Crown!

* (The Goshman Golden Sponge Ding-Dong for Excellence in Genital-Centric Magic.)

If there’s something you’d like to send to me via mail, the address is:

White Wand
PO Box 2026
Liverpool, NY 13089

Don’t put “Andy” or Jerx on there, just use that address. It’s best if you email me to let me know something is on the way, or else it may be some time before someone picks it up.

Salvage Yard: Summit

Is there any chance you could give some thoughts/ideas for the new Patrick Kun/Other Brothers effect, Summit? Like an idiot, I purchased it without doing much research, and now after doing a deeper dive into the effect I’m somewhat regretting my purchase. Did you buy this? Or do you have any thoughts on it? —FJ

Okay, to get everyone on the same page. Here is the trailer for Summit.

The effect is that a “thought of card” appears in a Sharpie marker.

At first I was interested in the trick, not because I thought that a card appearing in a Sharpie was inherently a good effect, but because I thought it might be a self-contained trick. And the convenience of just being able to have this Sharpie in my bag appealed to me. After doing a little research, I realized that wasn’t the case. You have the Sharpie and you also have an index that takes up one of your pockets. So that made it not for me. I wouldn’t walk around with an index in my pocket in order to perform this casually. And if I’m doing a planned performance, I feel I have tricks with plots that are much stronger. So it just doesn’t really fall in any of my sweet spots. It’s not convenient enough to be performed casually and I don’t like the premise enough to perform it in a planned scenario.

That being said, I don’t think it’s a bad trick. And I do have some thoughts that may be of some value.

“No Equivoque”

One of the issues people had with this effect was that the ad stated “No Equivoque.”

This is a claim that is sort of true. The fact of the matter is that you need to get the spectator to name a court card (it can be any one). There are perfectly good ways to do this with equivoque. And my understanding is that they do go over an equivoque version in the instructions.

They also offer a totally dopey way to do it without equivoque. And that is to ask the spectator, “Name a card that represents yourself.” Since no one is going to respond to that by saying, “I’m really a five of clubs type person,” it is very obvious—even to laypeople—that their choice is quite limited here.

Even more-so if you’re performing for a female. They only have four good options and probably 80% of the time it will be the Queen of Hearts. This should have been an obvious short-coming of that method to anyone who regularly performs for women.

And that was probably the issue in the development of this effect. I mean, look, I love the guys, but let’s be honest, do these two look like they spend a lot of time in the company of females?

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No, of course not. In fact, now that they’ve removed Aunt Jemima from the syrup bottle, these two probably won’t even see a woman for months at a time.

But I digress. The point is this, if you think asking someone to “name a card that represents themselves” is in any manner a fooling way to limit their choice, then good news, you don’t even need this trick. Just roll up a Queen of Hearts, put it in a marker, perform for a lady, and you’ll hit more often than not.

The other problem is asking someone to name a card that “represents themselves” makes zero sense in the context of the routine. If you asked them to name a card that represented themselves and that card appeared in a picture frame that previous held their picture, that would at least make some sense. But what is the logic here?

“Name a card that represents yourself.”

“Uhm… the Jack of Clubs.”

“Yes. Yes… And haven’t you always sort of felt in some way that you—that your essence—has been trapped inside of a marker?”

So just use equivoque. All you need is to get them into the court cards and then it’s free choices all the way after that. I’ll give you the wording I would use in a moment, but first…

The Premise

The other issue with this trick is the premise.

If you showed the marker empty and then the thought of card appeared inside, that would be a magic trick.

If the marker wrote one moment and then the next moment it didn’t, and the card was found inside, that too would be a magic trick.

But in this case, the card in the marker is just a needlessly complicated place for you to keep your prediction. The impossibility of the trick itself is no different than if your prediction was on the table in front of you. So what’s the point?

There isn’t one really, but if you build it up a little presentationally, then you can at least add some cohesiveness to the plot.

Imagine I used a forcing pad or something like that to force the words “bowling ball” on you. Then I said, “open the refrigerator and look inside.” And inside was a bowling ball. You might be amazed, but the trick would feel disconnected. Why was it in the refrigerator?

Now, imagine this. You walk in the living room and there’s a gallon of milk on an end table. “Why is the milk out?” you ask.

“Oh,” I say, “I needed to make room for something in the refrigerator.”

Later I force “bowling ball” on you and we open the refrigerator and there it is.

Revealing the ball there is still illogical, but it’s also satisfying in some way because it answers a question (Why was the milk removed from the refrigerator?).

And by answering a question and creating a full-circle moment, you kind of get some of the same benefits you would if the trick made logical sense.

So, with this effect, I think introducing the non-working Sharpie early on is better than doing it seconds before the reveal. That way the card appearing there isn’t completely arbitrary. “Ah, that’s why the marker wouldn’t write earlier.” It feels like a missing piece of the puzzle that you hinted at earlier, rather than just the card appearing in a completely random location.

How I Would Do This

I’m not planning on doing this trick. But if I were to, this is sort of the direction I’d go with it.

On the table is a card box and a marker.

“There’s this great trick I learned with a marker and a deck of cards. Unfortunately, I just can’t do it right now. So I’m going to have you imagine yourself doing the trick. And it’s still going to amaze you.”

This opening does a few things. First, it creates a little mystery that is at least mildly intriguing. Why can’t I just do the trick with this deck and marker in the real world? Why are they here if I’m not using them for the trick? How am I going to amaze them with something that happens in their imagination?

Second, it puts the marker in play as an important piece in the “first act.”

“The trick is pretty cool. Imagine this: Anything that gets drawn on with the marker disappears. So what happens is, you draw a line on 51 of the cards, causing them all to vanish completely. Then you snap your fingers and the remaining card disappears from the table and reappears in a completely impossible location.”

“So, as I said, we’re going to do the same trick, but just in your imagination. And you’ll still be amazed.

“The first thing we have to do is vanish 51 of the cards completely. We’ll do that in stages.”

The Equivoque

“To start, which do you prefer, the picture cards or the number cards?”

This is a type of equivoque I wrote about in The Jerx, Volume 1. It’s something I use a lot. It’s a perfectly normal English sentence. But it has two important words in it, and depending on how they answer the question, I will emphasize one of the words going forward, giving the sentence one of two different meanings.

Here the important words are “start” and “prefer.”

So I say, “To start, which do you prefer, the picture cards or the number cards?”

This can have two potential meanings. It can mean, “Tell me if you’d rather start the process of making cards disappear by vanishing the picture cards or number cards.” Or it can mean, “To start the process of making cards disappear, first tell me which group you prefer.” And then it makes sense that you would proceed in such a way that the final card remaining would come from the group they prefer.

So let’s play out the two scenarios:

Option A

“To start, which do you prefer, the picture cards or the number cards?”

“The number cards.”

“Okay, we’ll start with those. I want you to imagine I’m spreading the number cards across the table, and then I want you to imagine drawing a line along the cards. And—having been touched by that ink—every number card vanishes.'“

Option B

“To start, which do you prefer, the picture cards or the number cards?”

“The picture cards.”

“You prefer the picture cards? Okay, then we don’t need the number cards. In your imagination just draw a line along the row of number cards and see that magic ink causing the number cards to vanish.”

(I would likely give her the marker at this point in order to pantomime along with the process.)

From that point on, the selection process is free and the same regardless of how they started…

“Now we have three piles left here. The jacks, queens and king. Decide which one you want to get rid of and draw a line through those cards.

“Now we have the jacks and queens. Again, decide which ones you want to make vanish and draw a line along those cards in your imagination.

“So, just the jacks remain. I’ll split the jacks into red jacks and black jacks. Use the marker and make one of those pairs vanish.

“Finally, draw a line on either remaining jack. Leaving us just one card.

“Now, I want you to imagine snapping your fingers and the final card disappearing. But it doesn’t vanish completely like the other cards. It reappears in an unexpected place.

“And that’s what my trick looks like. Isn’t that a good trick? Are you amazed?”

They are either confused or gives a sarcastic, “Sure.”

“I get the sense that you don’t believe I can do that trick? I really can. And I would. I just don’t have a marker and a deck of cards.”

The other person notes the marker and cards on the table.

“Oh, those? Oh, I can’t use those. Because there are no cards in here.” I open the card case, showing it empty. “And there’s no ink in that marker.” I take the marker from her, uncap it, and draw on my hand, showing there’s no ink.

“You see, last night I took the deck that was in this box and this marker. And first I drew a line along all the number cards making them disappear. Just like you did. The Aces, the 2s, the 5s, the 8s—all the number cards— they just vanished completely.

“Then, like you, I drew a line along the kings making them disappear. Then the queens. Then I separated the jacks into black and red and vanished the red jacks. Then I drew a line on one of the remaining black jacks, causing it to vanish. That left me with just one final card. And I snapped my fingers and that card disappeared and jumped to an unexpected location.”

I slowly draw my attention to the marker and shake it a little. “I told you there was no ink in this marker, right?” I open the marker, showing the rolled up card. “Now, remember when you were down to the two black jacks? The club and the spade? You drew on one of them, causing it to disappear. Then you snapped your fingers causing the other card to jump to an unexpected place?

“What was the final card? The one that jumped to the unexpected place?”

They say the Jack of Spades.

I unroll the card showing the Jack of Spades. “Yeah, that’s how it worked with me too.”

___

What I like about this is that it’s no longer framed as a prediction, which we all have enough of. And it’s not really a magic trick either. I mean, it is, but it’s not. They see the end-result of a magic trick that they just imagined. I think that’s an interesting way of framing the effect. And, as often happens with these posts, I may have just convinced myself to get this trick.

Blowing the Dust Off the Ol' Blog

I’m back, bitches!

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Yes, much to the chagrin of my critics who said, “He’ll never blog again.” I’m back, and better than ever, baby. In fact, I don’t want to spoil the surprise, but you might recognize a familiar name at the top of People Magazine’s, 50 Hottest Magic-Bloggers Under 50 list which comes out next week. (Eat shit, Amazing Carl of Amazing Carl’s AbracadaBlog. After nearly 6 years, you’re in my rearview mirror. Get used to it)

Today I need to get some housekeeping out of the way before we pick back up with regular posting.


First, thanks to everyone who has written in with their feedback on the newest book. The response has been really amazing, which is especially gratifying considering this is likely the most “out there” book I’ll ever write, and I really had no clue how it would be received. So thanks for all the positive feedback.


Just to reiterate from a previous check-in post, the schedule going forward will be the old schedule of new posts on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays throughout the month. Non-magic posts will no longer be on this site. So you can easily avoid the music posts or other recommendations that you might not be into. The site for those posts will launch on Friday.


Important dates coming up for supporters and potential supporters.

Feb 25th: Current supporters will receive an email with details to see if they want to sign-up to support for another year. If at least 90% say yes, then the site keeps going. (This keeps me from overstaying my welcome with this site.)

March 1st: If the consensus is to keep the site going, then any unclaimed supporter slots will be made available at noon, New York time, March 1st on a first come, first serve basis. See this site at that time to sign up if you’re interested.


If you do any type of large mailings, I want to recommend pirateship.com to you. It’s shipping software, like stamps.com. But it has a couple distinct advantages. First, it’s completely free, unlike stamps.com, which cost me $250 a year or so. Also, it’s not complete garbage, unlike stamps.com.

Stamps.com would do things in the past like just swap names and addresses on orders randomly. Or they’d tell me an address didn’t exist. We’d double-check the address with the person who placed the order. They’d say, “Yup, that’s my address.” And there was no way to over-ride stamps.com’s objection to the address.

And stamps.com would constantly crash on us. That’s doesn’t feel like something you hear too much about anymore: websites “crashing.” But stamps.com managed to do it about a dozen times when we tried to get it up and running for this year’s mailing.

Pirate Ship has had none of these problems for us. It’s a little more of a pain to get the orders into the system. (It takes a couple minutes as opposed to being automatic like stamps.com.) But once the orders are in, it’s easily 20 times faster to do what you need to do to print out the postage. The customer service is super easy to deal with as well. (Although, be warned, they chat in “pirate speak,” which seems like one of those business decisions that is not long for this world.)

I haven’t noticed the postage from Pirate Ship being any cheaper than the alternatives, but as a service it definitely seems to work better.


For the first time since this site became reader supported five years ago, no supporter died over the course of the year. All my supporters made it through 2020. Interesting. Especially when it was supposedly such a “deadly” year with the “virus” and all of that. Hmmm…

Are you saying you don’t believe in the coronavirus?

No, dummy. I’m saying that—from all the available evidence—it looks like supporting this site keeps you safe from the coronavirus. In fact, I think it’s probably fair to say this site is a cloak that protects you from all the horrors of the world.

That’s why it’s so good to be back.