Inside Magic

The Tyee a great Canadian paper with an attitude – their
motto is "A Fiesty One On Line" – asks the musical question
"What the heck is going on at the University of 
British Columbia?"
 

Some of our younger readers may not be familiar with that
musical question as originally posed by Jimmy Dorsey in an unreleased recording
during his Great White North Swing Tour. 

The Tyee shows its feisty fish has spurs in their scathing
attack on the whole notion of pseudo-science, "morphic fields," and
pet telepathy.

We need to clarify a couple of things that may be lost in
the translation as this story crossed the US-Canada border.  While it is true that the late comedienne /
actress Totie Fields was originally married to Morphic Fields and took her new
stage name from that short-lived relationship (her maiden name was
Feldman),  Morphic a/k/a Maury Fields
never visited Canada.  In fact, in his autobiography, I Love the Heat, Mr. Fields suggests one
of the prime reasons for breaking up with the much younger Totie was her desire
to travel to Canada; and
specifically to British Columbia.

Writes Mr. Fields:

I
loved Totie like a sister – she was the strangely, alluring cousin encountered
at a rare family reunion I never had. 
But when she decided she had to visit British Columbia to appear in a summer stock
version of Annie Get Your Gun, I told
her I couldn't go with her.  She
understood.  She sent me the divorce
papers while she was booked for a couple of weeks in Vegas. 

I
don't know if I wanted to secretly break-up the marriage and so I pretended to
have strong feelings about British Columbia or
if I really did have strong feelings about British Columbia.  It is so hard to tell and the memory of the
heart is often elusive and self-defensive. 

The
last word I got from Totie came from British
Columbia.  She
sent a post card with a picture of some famous cemetery in the province – they
had WWI heroes buried there – and she wrote "Wish you were here!"
with an arrow drawn towards one of the freshly dug graves. 

She
was a joker, that girl.  She got my name
and I got repulsed – so it was a fair trade, I figure.

But let us now digress back from this more interesting
tangent to discuss another form of Morphic Fields in British Columbia and the news service named
for a very angry fish.

The Tyee kicks it real in the opening paragraph.  We'd expect nothing less from a Feisty
Fish. 

When Rupert Sheldrake takes the
stage at Robson Square
on July 20, Vancouver
audiences will have a chance to hear the world's leading expert on
"morphic fields." But then, he's the only expert in the field, since
he invented it.

"Morphic resonance" is
his notion that the field of energy — think of The Force in Star Wars movies
– is affected by what we think. It leads, he supposes, to people knowing when
they're being stared at, and telephone and e-mail ESP, which is when the person
you're thinking about contacts you. Apparently, it also explains telepathy
between pets and owners.

In short, what audiences will
actually hear in this lecture, co-sponsored by Hollyhock Retreat Centre and the
University of British Columbia, is one of the world's
leading proponents of pseudoscience.

Now for the purposes of any subsequent legal action
contemplated by Mr. Sheldrake or his kin, it is the fish and not Quinlan's
Inside Magic casting aspersions towards the alternative fields of science. 

Penn Jillette once observed you can ridicule, attack,
slander, and, if you have pen and paper handy, libel any religious figure.  But if you "screw with Uri Gellar"
you'll be sued within an inch — or the metric equivalent – of your life.  It doesn't matter if what you say is true and
can be proven, said Mr. Jillette.  The
psychics will come after you. 
 
The Tyee, however, is apparently unaware of this sage advice
from a very tall man who knows a thing or two about angering people. 

They describe the field thusly:

Mystical entrepreneurs have long
peddled variations on magic — such as palmistry, astrology and energy healing
– but Sheldrake is part of the new New Age that capitalizes on widespread
scientific ignorance to market books and speaking tours that present his
eccentric views as legitimate science.

                    What are the ethics?

The article is a great read and inspiring. 

We'll get to the "inspiring" part in a second (or
its metric equivalent), but first let us praise good writing and brave
reporting.

There is a portion of journalism that lives under the
misapplication of the axiom that every story has two sides.  Actually, it seems like that's most of
journalism today. 

We were watching a cable news show the other night and were
amazed the anchor-model tried to offer "both sides" of the debate on
polygamy.  While we know there are men in
our country who believe polygamy is God's clear instruction, they don't usually
constitute the most-coveted demographic for television advertisers. 

But the anchorwoman had a member of a sect speaking up for
those who are too tired to speak for themselves. 

We don't know what they said in defense of the practice; or
for that matter, what the anti-polygamist spokesperson said.  We were watching our neighbor's television
and he had the windows closed.  So we
could see the titles and graphics but couldn't hear a darn thing. 

But that brings us back to The Tyee. 

The reporter suggests universities are willing to pay good
money to proponents of "the woo-woo." 

Dale Beyerstein, who teaches
philosophy at Langara College and is an oft-quoted debunker of the woo-woo,
says that most people involved in the New Age are true believers, and that it's
possible Sheldrake genuinely believes in morphic fields — despite existing
knowledge to the contrary.

But as someone who teaches ethics,
he adds that it's "intellectually unethical" for institutions such as
universities and newspapers, which are supposedly in the business of gathering
or delivering knowledge on behalf of the public, to be so careless.

"If you just accept what
these people say, you're failing in your calling," Beyerstein says.

While unintentional, the flim-flam artists use the
university appearances as an imprimatur of their skills, education, and
significance to the academic world. 

The instant credibility brings Mr. Sheldrake more gigs with
schools but also serves as a great launching point for his promotional campaign
to other flim-flammers. 

Mr. Sheldrake uses the university tour to enhance his draw
among the psychic community.    In fact,
another school advertised not only Mr. Sheldrake's upcoming lecture but also
his "appearance with the Vancouver Prophets Conference (August 4 to 7).

The Tyee points out that the Prophets Conference is less
impressive than the hallowed, ivy-covered halls of Canada's finest educational
facilities. 

The conference is a franchise
business (www.greatmystery.org) that delivers a latter-day version of the
old-fashioned travelling tent shows full of healers and mystics. It includes
"Adam," the Vancouver
teenager alleged to cure cancer by…well, by something mysterious that has to
do with energy.

Despite the wealth of information
available on Sheldrake, The Straight's headline legitimizes his views by
emphasizing his previous work as a scientist: "Staring is telepathy, says
scientist Rupert Sheldrake."

Writer Gail Johnson describes
those who dismiss Sheldrake's work as an illusion as "cynics." The
Oxford Canadian Dictionary defines a cynic as, "as person with little
faith in human goodness who sarcastically doubts or despises sincerity and
merit."

Perhaps she confused the word
scientist with cynic? There is no way of knowing, since Johnson refused to
respond to repeated attempts to interview her. While her piece does offer one
critical quote from an article written by the executive director of the
California-based Skeptics Society — it notes that psychologists dismiss
anecdotal evidence of being stared at — it hardly provides balance. The piece
emphasizes that Sheldrake has also done "studies," which implies that
these are just warring opinions, as opposed to a conflict between facts and
medieval ideas about metaphysics that pre-date centuries of accumulated
knowledge.

Check out the full article at The Tyee and see their now
famous Feisty Fish logo while you're there.

We mentioned earlier Mr. Sheldrake's success was inspiring
to us.  Sure, we could go to the Dark
Side, sell audiences on the truth of our own version of Morphic Fields but
there is a more legitimate way to cash in.

Paul Daniels offered a spectacular day-long lecture/workshop
focusing on how to make money from magic. 

Some of the ideas were old and not practical for us. 

"Practice your effects," he said. "Work your way up
by taking almost any paying show to hone your ability to work with audiences,
protect your reputation by being professional on stage and in business
dealings, and earn star status based on your talent." 

Not practical for us. 

We have little talent, we're unreliable, hate to practice, and are never
offered paying shows so our abilities remain un-honed. 

One of the other suggestions resonated well within out
tender soul, however. 

Mr. Daniels suggested assembling an one-hour talk (including
questions and answers) for
libraries, church groups, and service organizations
on topics like "The Danger of the New Age Tricksters." 

You wouldn't compromise your oath as a magician
because you wouldn't reveal secrets of the faux-psychics. 

The lecture could show how apparently
miraculous effects could be duplicated by a magician who disclaimed any psychic
powers. 

We know others have suggested this type of lecture/show and
many are doing well with it.  But we
became convinced it was a great idea when we read The Tyee's take on the
unfortunate mantel of legitimacy universities bestow on these fakers.

It is not often one can do good and do well at the same
time.  This might be one of the ways
worth exploring.  

If we become an overnight success based on this inspiration
and instruction from The Feisty Fish and Mr. Daniels, we'll be sure to delete
this article to hide the evidence. 

We'd
suggest you read quickly, but given our shiftless and ambling attitude combined
with little talent and quirky tics and cowlicks, there is no chance we'll
achieve success overnight. 

And if the lecture series doesn't pay off right away (like
in a week or two), we're going with Plan B: Kid's Parties for Polygamist
families. 

That's a gold mine waiting to
be dug.  We're already thinking of neat
modifications to our standard routine to fit into the alternative lifestyle. 

Instead of Run-Rabbit-Run,
we'll offer Hide-Daddy-Hide where the
screaming kids help the Daddy character dodge the Feds.  Maybe,we could come up off a dime or two for
changes to an old standard. 

We'd introduce our version of the classic audience
participation effect:  The Twenty-First Century Bra Trick but
using 14 or 16 silks so that all of the mommies can be involved in the
surprising and embarrassing ending. 

And don't even think we're going to share our version of The Linking Rings where we show how all of
the wedding rings link, unlink, and can look like a catcher's mask, Mickey
Mouse, or hand-cuffs.  

We've got a line already for a new Six-Card-Repeat.

We've already special ordered the props for our close-up bit
- also a novel twist on an old classic but sure to keep the ever-expanding
family tree off their respective nuts: Multiplying
Sponge Bunnies reworked to have Mommy and Daddy multiply into Lots-O-Mommies
and one very tired, spongy, easily manipulated, and squishy Daddy. 

It's a gold mine, we tell you.  

Continue reading Psuedo-Science Equals Real Money for Some