Inside Magic

The first email is from a young magician in Shelby, Tennessee:

 

Tom:

 

How do you know the news so quickly? How do you find out about some magician doing some walk around restaurant gig in a Denny’s in Taipei on alternate Sundays? Do people send you the news or do you comb the web or what?

 

Signed,

 

"If this buggy’s rocking, call 911. I’m alone in here."

 

Dear Lonesome Buggy Boy:

 

First of all, the name is Tim. Second
of all, just because some magician hasn’t made it to Vegas yet, and is
still doing what we do at the Ordinary Magician Stratum, doesn’t mean
you can make fun of him/her/us/me. I read a poll
the other day in MagicData that said, 97.2 percent of all magicians who
actually make a living from their work, "are working in restaurants,
bars or doing parties." I thought that was a high statistic so I called Irwin Sines at MagicData and he told me it was a real stat. Apparently
there is a big drop off in the figures when you go from magicians
working for a living by doing magic and magicians doing magic for pay
(every once in a while) but not living on the wages.

 

I
learn about the magicians covered here by either combing the Internet
or receiving press releases or notes from magicians around the world. The
magician you referred to in your email, was actually not doing
table-hopping at Denny’s in Taipei but was doing Hippity Hop Rabbits
that he bought from Denny and Lee’s Magic Shop with a toupee. I think you need a new web browser or something. Maybe that’s why you got my name wrong.

 

The second letter is from someone in an unidentified location:

 

Hi:

 

Are
you embarrassed by what women think of you? Do you wish you could
please them even more than they’ve ever dreamed? Have you given up on
being a real man . . .

 

Dear Unidentified Emailer:

 

I assume you are either my first or second wife. I
doubt you are my common law wife from the former Dutch Republic of
Southern Vimgav ? as she does not read and write in English.

Continue reading Letters to Inside Magic

Last night, we read the story of two men with a group called
Pirates With Attitude ("PWA").

The Feds (as opposed to the "Well-Fed," which
describes us) claimed that the PWA folks were hacking software to take of the
copy protection and thus allowed anyone on the Internet to download the
software for free.

This was premium software. PWA thought that because they did
not charge for the downloads, they shouldn't be prosecuted of theft.

The Seventh Circuit Court of Appeals disagreed.

They stole, they got caught and now they go to jail.

It got us thinking — it could happen — of a novel method
to protect magic inventors intellectual property.

We don't know why this idea hasn't been suggested before –
perhaps because it is either too obvious or unworkable.

We, as magic-consumers, and we, as magic
dealers/manufacturers, could be honest about what we are buying.

We live on the east side of Mystic Hollow, Michigan and those familiar with the
neighborhood, know it has its seedy side.

The least offensive or dangerous character wandering our
realm is the guy in the tan, non-descript Chevrolet Astro Van.

We think the Van Man's selling skills must be week. He cannot afford to upgrade his wheels to
something made in this century. Or maybe
his customers recognize him by the van.
Either way, the Van Man won't get out of his home on wheels unless you
give him the nod.

He hasn't changed his van, his sales methods, or toothbrush
in the 15 years we've seen him work for customers.

As residents stroll along the tree-lined boulevards of
Mystic Hollow, the Van Man slowly pulls astride from a safe distance in the
roadway. Once he has your attention, the
Van Man politely inquires whether you might be interested in stereo equipment
or, and this is a recent addition, video games and consoles.

Mr. Van Man offered us a system he claimed cost in excess of
$2,500.00 in the stores. (We've since
checked the actual retail price for the products offered: it priced out at just
under $2,000.00 — close enough).

His price for the system? A mere $200.00 — cash.

Is it better to avoid temptation or to withstand its
attraction? We didn't have $20.00 much
less $200.00.

We're not noble, just poor.

Still, we'd like to think that if we had the cash, we would
righteously reject the offer.

Of course, we can also be convinced we would maintain our
vow (involuntary) of celibacy if Lindsay Lohan started stalking.

We think it was that dad character in Hamlet who said to his
son, ". . . [a]nd this above all, to thine own self be true." Of course he got stabbed through the curtain
and the two guys his son was leaving to find were dead. True Dat.

Let's return to the theme of this article: temptation, noble
causes, and temptation causing us to be less than noble.

We asked Mr. Van Man his source for the deeply discounted
product.

"Where'd you get
it?"

"Why?" he asked quickly but without an irritated
tone.

Mr. Van Man probably didn't make us for a law-enforcement
officer but looked us over quickly; perhaps out of habit.

"Just wondering," we said.

"I have a friend who had a store that went out of
business and they didn't get a last pay check — they were allowed to take some
of the stock. He needed money, not
stereo equipment, so he sold it to me."
So far the story sounded possible.
Michigan
is in the midst of a pretty bad economic downturn.

Mr. Van Man continued, "I was just driving home and
then I remembered my wife's gonna kill me if she hears I helped my friend out
or that I spent all that money on this stuff."

If we ignored the fact that Mr. Van Man is an institution on
the East Side of Mystic Hollow, this was a plausible story.

Sure, that could be the case.

It is possible Mr. Van Man's recently fired buddy needed
help; Mr. Van Man helped him out but now had buyer's remorse.

It was as our feeble brain considered the situation that we
became enlightened.

Mr. Van Man's plausible story was likely not the truth; but
it was plausible.

We would never knowingly
buy stolen goods. But perhaps we are
evil enough to buy stolen goods if we have a convenient or plausible
explanation for the incredible opportunity.

There is a saying amongst the farmers south of Mystic
Hollow, "Let's get down to the Lick-Log." The Lick-Log is a salt or sugar encrusted
piece of wood tossed into the pens of some animals to keep them happy. Eventually, the sugar or salt is gone and
you're left with a log.

At its most basic level, Mr. Van Man was hoping to make us a
fence for the stolen goods and to sweeten the deal, he would throw in the soul
assuaging, plausible explanation.

Michigan
codified the statute years before our encounter with Mr. Van Man. A "fence" or possessor of stolen
goods of more than $500.00 in value is guilty of a felony and subject to more
than a year in prison.

 

So, where is the Magic Lick-Log? Was Mr. Van Man selling magic tricks as well
as stereo equipment? What is the relevance of this story? Is it possible people searching Google for
"Lick" and "Log" will find this story and wonder why they
were directed to a magic news site?

The application to our current crisis in Magic isn't that
difficult — but that doesn't mean we can't write about it a very confusing and
convoluted manner.

Let's divide magicians and manufacturers into a few
categories:

First: brand-new
magicians without any experience or knowledge of the craft's history;

Second: magicians
with some knowledge of both the market place and the recent magic history;

Third:
manufacturers or dealers just starting out in the business (such as a mom and
pop shop); and,

Fourth: experienced
manufacturers or dealers.

 

We want to encourage young people to get into our wonderful
art form.

The new magician is unlikely to purchase a counterfeit
version of David Copperfield's latest illusion.

The rookie magi will probably find satisfaction practicing
Cups-and-Balls, Chinese Sticks, or Cut-and-Restored Rope.

For the most part, novice magicians will purchase effects in
magic's version of the public domain.

The amateur or semi-professional or professional magician
should not receive the same benefit of the doubt extended to beginners.

A magician at this level knows or should know certain tricks
are not in the public domain. They may
not know the true inventor but they can discern those tricks we've had in our
craft for decades versus a more recent entry into the commercial magic market.

A "real" magic shop always has the hand-written
sign, "No Refunds. The Secret Is Told When the Trick Is Sold." It is de rigueur in the magic shop cohab.

We'll venture out onto a sturdy limb to suggest all
magicians know this maxim.

When we bought Jerry Andrus' Linking Pins we didn't really expect the cost of the five (?)
safety pins made up most of the $25.00 price.
We were buying the secret. We
were paying for Mr. Andrus' innovative routine and secret.

Are you still with us?
Let's review. If you're a new
magician, you probably don't know any better.
If you're a professional or semi-professional you do know or should know
whether a trick is in the public domain or the property of a magic
inventor.

Karl Marx said if one was going to object to his economic
philosophy, they would have to object to his most basic premises. Once you accept the premises, he said, the
philosophy and structure is logical and invulnerable to attack.

So if you accept our premise that we have responsibility for
acting in an ethical manner, you are ready for our logical exploration.

The experienced magician knows or should know that the price
tag reflects not the raw materials but the innovation of the trick's inventor.

We are not audiophiles but we generally know when something
is too good to be true.

(We're definitely not any kind of audiophile but we almost
were, we think. Eight years ago, we sort
of made out with a person at a family reunion who we kind of thought was our
cousin but it turned out we were wrong.
So, we didn't really do anything wrong after all. Our true cousin was really angry when we told
her the story though. She couldn't see
any similarity between her and the 82 year-old man rummaging through the trash
cans).

If we bought the stereo equipment, Mr. Van Man would get a
windfall and we'd get a stereo system at a crazy price. The true owner of the equipment would get
zip.

So didn't we have a duty to the victim of Mr. Van Man's
theft?

Sure. And not just
because we didn't want to break the law.
It was more than illegal, it was wrong.

We sleep with a loaded .38 under our pillow and our arm
wrapped around our 22 year-old Sony Betamax Video Player. We'd hate to lose the machine. Sure, we don't really sleep that well –
we're worried we'll fire the gun while dreaming about being fitted for a new
bowling ball — but the Betamax has value to us. It may not command much on the street but it
means something special to us.

(By the way, have you noticed there are less and less tapes
available for the Beta format? We
haven't seen a new release since The
Daring Dobermans Go To France).

You protest.

Hey Mr. Moral, who are you to judge whether a seller is
legitimate?

What if they have a plausible case for claiming the right to
sell a particular trick, isn't that good enough?

How is a simple magician to know the true owner or inventor
of every trick I want to purchase. I don't
live at the Magic
Castle or breathe the
rarified air of the elite historians. I
am just trying to make it month to month and have to shop solely on price.

We can't judge you or your motives. We can tell you, however, purchasing magic
based on price alone will often reward the thief and punish the inventor.

Let's head back to the Lick-Log for a second.

In your heart of hearts, your deepest self, you know you can
discern knock-offs from authentic magic effects.

Whether shopping at a brick and mortar magic shop or on the
internet, you know if there are two very similar versions of the same trick but
with disparate price points, one of the two is the knock-off.

The salesperson or web site will probably not tell you the
difference in price is because knock-offs cost him much less than the authentic
version of the trick.

But you don't need that explanation. First because we're telling you here and now;
and second, because if you possess the skills to use the internet or get to a
magic shop, you have the innate intelligence required to discern something that
is too good to be true.

Sure, it's possible the more expensive effect is a knock-off
or even just a better quality version of the authentic version authorized by
the inventor. We play the odds everyday
in our real job and we're willing to bet great price disparity evidences a
knock-off.

Test our theory.
Pause before pushing the purchase button long enough to post an inquiry
on Magic Café, the Genii Forum, SAM Talk, or the IBM Listserv. You will receive feedback almost instantly.

You can turn a blind eye to the issue but we all know not
seeking the truth is ethically no better than doing what we know is wrong.

The manufacturer and dealers are held to a much higher level
in our ethical model.

Whether a "mom and pop" magic store or a
sophisticated magic dealer or manufacturer, the dealer/manufacturer knows or
should know the history of the effect they are buying and selling to the magic public.

This is a radical concept.
It is tough to measure, impossible to enforce, and there is no official body
to sanction buyers or sellers who buy knock-offs. We have integrity and when the integrity fails
to keep us honest, we should be able on the peer pressure and support of our
magic brothers and sisters.

The costs are potentially very high if we ignore our ethical
responsibility to inventors. Eventually,
we will force the quality and innovation out of our art.

Continue reading Mr. Van Man Learns Us Good: Just Say ‘No’ to Knock-Offs!