By now you’ve probably learned Dean Dill and his family were in an accident a couple of days ago. It was bad.

Apparently, Dean and his family had stopped to help someone who’d overturned their vehicle, and someone slammed into Dean’s vehicle.

Pete Biro copied a note from Alphonso:

Dean has broken ribs, cracked pelvic bone, with rest no surgery, is in a brace.

Dean’s son, Jamie -teeth knocked out, broken nose, severed thumb tendon, having cat scan.

Wife, Denise- Broken cheek, facial lacerations, black eye. in best shape of all

As you can imagine, the financial hardship when something like this happens can be overwhelming. Steve Brooks sent a broadcast message about this, so if you are a member of The Magic Cafe, you’ve probably heard about it. Also, my friend Dick Hatch (the H in H&R Magic) forwarded a note from Tim Trono with a suggestion for the magic community to contribute to covering some of those bills.

And I want to ask if you’d take a moment out of your life and consider something.

Suppose, for a moment, that it was you in that accident, and you were in the situation Dean is in right now, in the hospital, knowing you’ll be on your back for the foreseeable future, and your family hurt, too.

If you’re so lead, would you go right now to PayPal and send along a “get well” contribution and a kind word? Send it directly to Dean’s PayPal ID: intmiracle@deandill.com

It’s been wickedly amusing to see the discussions regarding Hermetic Press’s book by Max Maven, “The Protocols of the Elders of Magic” — especially when the discussion surrounds ethics and secrets. (And, eventually, all discussions regarding magic lead to ethics and secrets.)

Steve Pellegrino admits to reading the Genii BBS thread about the thing, and all he comes away with is that people were arguing about the ethics of reselling the book? Maybe someone at Genii is playing a cruel joke on Steve, feeding him a special version of the thread devoid of the context of that particular aspect. On the other hand, maybe Steve didn’t actually read the entire thread and thus we have an explanation for the straw man he first constructed and then torched.

Rather than force you to endure the thing (the Genii thread, I mean) allow me please to summarize my contribution to the thread regarding the reselling doctrine. Please read them in order, slowly:

1. There were only 500 copies of this book made available

2. There are more than 500 people wishing to own this book

3. Several people purchased multiple copies of this book with the sole intention of reselling the additional copies at a higher price to those who could not order one, knowing full and well that a limited edition Max Maven book would command higher prices on the secondary market

4. This action prevented many people from obtaining a copy from Hermetic Press at the $50 price

5. I called that “distasteful” because I thought it was unkind to deliberately deplete a limited source for the sole purpose of causing others to pay a higher price. (There’s a one-word euphamism for this behavior, which I will leave to your imagination.)

In a nutshell, that’s my position on the reselling of the Maven book.

Do I care if individual owners sell their copy? No. Jeremy Medows is one of the many valuable Internet associations I’ve made over the years. He received his book and subsequently listed it on eBay. I took the time to send Jeremy a note asking why he sold it. His reply was perfectly in keeping with what I suspected.

But that’s not a situation I was referring to and only someone who read the thread would know that.

You think I’m off my rocker in this case? Fine with me. You are welcome to your opinion. But if you believe it is ethically alright to buy additional copies with the intention of reselling them to the people your own actions deprived of their own ability to buy one, and stick them for double or triple the price for the privilege, I’d prefer you continue to make that position known publicly. Really, I do. I’d rather know for a fact you’re not someone I care to do business with or associate with personally, than be left to wonder.

For some people, their world view looks like this: if it is perfectly legal, it is perfectly alright. A close cousin to this is: it’s just business. (Haven’t we been around this “it’s just business” tree before?)

Here’s a newsflash: Legal and Immoral entered into a co-habitation partnership years ago and their bastard offspring have been causing no end of problems since. On the other hand, the marriage between Moral and Ethical has been strong since the beginning of time, and continues to cause no end of trouble to those who prefer the more popular couple mentioned above.

Back to “if it’s legal, it’s alright.” That’s not entirely accurate, is it? That someone is perfectly within their legal rights to do something does not make it morally or ethically the right thing to do. The Supreme Court of the United States of America created a situation whereby abortion is a perfectly legal method of birth control. (Next to abstinence, it’s the ultimate in birth control, actually.) But is it morally right?

In the Genii BBS thread, I used the phrase “social ecology.” By that I mean how your actions impact the lives of those around you. If you have the flu, it is perfectly legal for you to visit a retirement home. But is it fair to the people in that home that you bring a virus among them, and upset their “ecology”? In my opinion, no it is not. But that’s just me.

Oh, I can see the eyes rolling around in your head now. Old John’s comparing selling a magic book to giving some old folks the flu, and to murdering a baby aborting a fetus. I fully understand there are more than just a few people who quickly find themselves out of their intellectual depth on their initial viewing of “Dumb and Dumber” (which is the only excuse I can find for subsequent viewings), but I suspect those aren’t the people reading this blog. (Yes, I know, I’m being snotty. If this surprises you, you’re obviously new in town.)

The process for rationalizing one is the same as that of rationalizing the other; the difference is where you draw the moral and ethical line in the sand. For instance, for some it’s okay to copy magic videos, but not to kill a baby. Or It’s not okay to copy magic videos, but downloading songs via Your Favorite P2P App is okay because, well, (insert your rationalization here).

How about this: how do your actions affect those around you? Selfish people cannot even read that sentence aloud, let alone contemplate it seriously and sincerely.

As I’ve mentioned to my friend Jim Sisti more than once, I am fiscally conservative and socially liberal. In other words, I am the world’s biggest fan of free enterprise and, in fact, think it is the solution to most of the economic problems in the country — not the cause of them. At the same time, I do not believe in profiting by taking advantage of people. Financial success and not screwing people over are not mutually exclusive terms. If you find they are, perhaps you should examine your priority pyramid; it may be upside down.

And I didn’t even touch on keeping the subject and contents of the book secret. That’s a whole ‘nuther issue.

I received a note from Bob Cassidy:

Dear. Friends-

I am sorry to tell you that Peggy’s fight is over. She passed away this evening. I will post further details at the site as soon as I am able.

Bob

And there is a little update — with a picture of Peggy — on Bob’s site.

As anyone who has experienced it, losing a loved one is never easy. But losing your partner in life is simply incomprehensible to me.

Please keep Bob in your thoughts and prayers.

Coming soon to a real television network — CBS — The Druid Master, Keith Barry, will do his magic stuff and “psychological illusions” and, I suspect, get some real mentalist ratings.

The Futon Critic was kind enough to post the CBS announcement, which stated in part:

MAGICIAN AND PSYCHOLOGICAL ILLUSIONIST KEITH BARRY TO STAR IN HIS OWN UPCOMING ENTERTAINMENT SPECIAL ON CBS

Magician and psychological illusionist Keith Barry will star in his own upcoming entertainment special on the CBS Television Network. The special will feature Barry displaying his vast range of magic skills on celebrities as he demonstrates his intuitive capabilities and amazing talents.

Barry, already a popular talent in his native Ireland, has become a Hollywood force to be reckoned with over the past two years. Fueled by the success of his 2004 MTV Spring Break special, his live stage show, “Brainwashed,” debuted with 19 sold-out shows in January 2005, and was later showcased at the Henry Fonda Theatre in Hollywood. In May, Barry performed his live show at the Hard Rock Hotel in Vegas for their 10th Anniversary celebration as part of an all-star lineup that included Coldplay, Bon Jovi and Nine Inch Nails. His television shows have been broadcast in over 26 countries.

I’d also love to see Derren Brown bring his televison productions over to this side of the pond. NBC is probably gun shy about ever again running another mentalist on their network, but who knows? Criss Angel has proved that good, compelling magic performances on television can bring in ratings. Can’t wait to see Keith’s show.

I received a note from John Carney about his show, “Carney’s Wonder Cabaret” — which is scheduled to run only four weekends in December at Actor’s Forum Theatre in North Hollywood. (The first performance starts this Friday.)

Word is the show is a “don’t miss” affair. There are times when I wish I was closer to the Left Coast, and this is certainly one of those times.

If you happen to find yourself in that neighborhood, you’d do well to check out the show. John’s web site has details.

P.S. See? I went the whole thing without saying what a carneycopia of great magic you’ll see. My restraint knows no bounds.

I believe it was around 1995 when I dialed a telephone number terminating at a home in Carmel, Indiana. I dialed the number with the best of intentions; to report a slimy little bastard who was apparently duplicating and subsequently selling a video tape originally produced and sold by Michael Close. I believed this was the case because the tape I bought from the bastard (the slimy little one, I mean) was too horridly produced — both in technical quality and packaging — to have possibly come from the man who produced the three “Workers” books I owned — books with which I fell so deeply in love on first reading that the state of Louisiana actually considered passing a law against such romances.

When the ringing line was answered, the fellow on the other end verified that he was, indeed, Michael Close. Now, he didn’t come right out and ask what in the living hell did I want and how dare I dial his telephone number, but that’s the impression I got.

So I quickly got directly to the point, explained why I called, and gave him the contact information of the SLB. He thanked me. I hung up.

Then I turned out all the lights, locked myself in the closet, and wept. (I’m kidding, of course. There are no locks on any of our closet doors.)

Over the years — and despite the involuntary eye-twitching I experienced when thinking about that telephone call — I’ve continued to purchase Michael Close stuff, which includes five Workers books, one VHS tape, the L&L Publishing VHS “Workers…” series as well as the reissued “Workers…” DVDs. As someone who recognizes the difference between clever magician creations, and magic tricks that play to real and paying audiences, I’ve loved Close’s work.

I also read with near-religious ferver his review colums in MAGIC Magazine. The only thing that ever came before them was when Stan had Max Maven writing his (much missed) Parallax column.

Okay. So let’s fast forward to Las Vegas in late August 2004, and probably my favorite magic-related event ever: MAGIC Live!. Not only was it everything you heard it was and then some, it was two firsts for me. It was the first time I’ve been to Vegas, and it was the first time I’d actually met my longtime Internet friend Jim Sisti (and his lovely wife Sandra). During that week in Vegas, we all hung around together and made more friends than a human being should be allowed. (I’m getting weepy now. Tito, hand me a tissue.)

In the dealer room, I found myself at Dean Dill’s table (he of Dean’s Box fame). Dean was sharing a booth with — that’s right — Michael Close. I stepped up, said hello, and half expected both barrels to go off. Of course he simply said hello and we entered into a chat. Brief as it was, and with our telephone chat from nearly ten years previous fresh in my mind, I wondered which alien race had kidnapped Michael Close and substituted him for this very personable, funny and darned likeable guy.

I purchased a copy of his new CD-ROM, “Closely Guarded Secrets.” That night when I returned to the hotel room, rather than climbing into bed for desparately needed sleep, I suddenly remembered I was at a magic convention in Vegas, and, instead, called the front desk for a hooker popped the CD-ROM into my laptop. I read the entire thing and watched all the embedded videos that night/morning, taking notes and wondering about one of the tricks in particular — all actions for which I would pay dearly the next morning at reveille.

The next day I find myself in the dealer’s room once again. (Being a magic convention, I know, you’re shocked.) I pass Dean’s booth again and Michael was there chatting with someone a little taller and with a bit more hair than I (neither of which is much of a surprise, frankly.) I patiently waited for this fellow to finish talking with Close, which he did and then started chatting with Dean without moving an inch. I pushed this guy aside so I could step up and discuss something from the CD-ROM with Michael. (Turns out the fellow I shoved aside was David Blaine.) Close was as kind and just plain nice as he was the day before.

Okay. Let’s fast forward to the present time. Michael Close and his wife Lisa have slaved over the computer converting the five “Workers…” books into an ebook. (It’s not really my fault for buying and downloading the thing I already have in four other formats; my credit card told me to do it or else. No, really. Look, I’ve got “Dark Side of the Moon” in all seventeen different versions, and I don’t recall you berating me for that.)

The ebook version has the added bonus of being annotated by the author himself, rather than the usual method which first requires the author die first, and then suffer the indignation of having someone else do the annotating. And, in places, the annotations double the value of the material on which the annotations are based.

It’s almost 20Mb in size and over 650 pages in length. And formatted, dear Lord, formatted beautifully. It is a joy to (re)read.

In the introduction to the ebook version, Close says this:

All the material in the Workers series was created and performed in and around Indianapolis. The books were written in Carmel, Indiana, from 1990 to 1996. This was a dark period in my life, and looking back, I’m amazed that I was able to produce these books at all. I carried a lot of pent-up anger during this time, and, unfortunately, that anger manifested itself in my performances, personal interactions, and perhaps even in the pages of the Workers books. I wish (for many reasons) that I had handled things differently back then, but we can’t change the past, we can only learn from it. I guess my point is that if you met me during that time, and you walked away from the encounter thinking, “That guy’s a jerk,” you might not have been wrong.

So the moral of this story is: don’t walk where you’re not supposed to walk because there may not be someone with superhuman strength to save your little ass. And don’t do drugs.

Wait, that’s Sal.

No, the moral of the story is people are not portraits on the wall. While first impressions are important, the older you get the quicker you’ll stop letting those first impressions make such an impression on you. Ten years is an awfully long time and people change. For whatever reason, people change. I know I’d just as soon not be remembered for some of the things I said ten years ago (except, maybe, for my comments about Jeff Davis and his Origami copy, but that’s a post for another day.) I know this may be hard to believe, but I have been known to be somewhat bombastic in the manner in which I make my points.

Now that I think about it, I’d probably rather not be known for some of the things I said last week.

Is there someone you’ve been harboring a sore spot for? (And I don’t mean Jeff Busby; feel free to let that fire burn.) Could it be that, over the years, you’ve both changed and that snapshot in your mind that gets your eye twitching is no longer accurate? Is that possibility worth making a phone call to say, “hello”? Hey, it’s just a question.

With Thanksgiving clearly on my mind — I’m putting the finishing touches on my famous rice dressing — I’m reminded of a few things I’m thankful for. I’m thankful for being above ground today. I’m thankful for being married to the Cute Redhead, for having the daughter I have, and the granddaughter she gave us. I’m thankful to have such a deep interest and love for magic and mentalism– which brings me great joy and not a few shekels — and for the creators who share their idea-babies with us. I’m thankful for friends like Jim and Sandra Sisti. I’m thankful you, kind reader, for actually reading this entire thing and not skipping directly to the end, thereby avoiding the eternal fires of hell and damnation.

And you thought this was a post about magic.

For many years there has been a fun/frustrating/mindless/useless game people play. It’s called the “five foot bookshelf” and the concept is simple: create a list of books pertaining to a special interest to fit in a five foot shelf space, to the exclusion of all others.

Theoretically, this should cause the player to contemplate which books meant the most to him and why. (I say “him” because, as with other intellectual pursuits, chicks aren’t allowed to play. Oh, stop rolling your eyes; I was only kidding. Mostly.)

You may not be aware that the five foot bookshelf has its roots in remarks made by a former Harvard University president, which ended up being responsible for putting millions and millions of books in the homes and offices of normal people across the country.

Sometime before 1909 or so, Charles W. Eliot suggested in a speech that “a five-foot shelf would hold books enough to give in the course of years a good substitute for a liberal education in youth to anyone who would read them with devotion, even if he could spare but fifteen minutes a day for reading.”

Having read that speech and sniffing a good idea that could sell quite a few books, Norman Hapgood and William Patten, two editors from the publishing house of P.F. Collier & Son, told Eliot that if he would select fifty books to make up that shelf, they’d publish them. With the help of English professor William A. Neilson, Eliot whittled down the list and the Harvard Classics were born March 10, 1910.

Originally fifty volumes (now numbering fifty-one or fifty-two, depending upon which edition you find), it remains even today a remarkable set of books. The concept was so well received over 350,000 sets were sold in the first twenty years. Ladies and gentlemen, that’s a lot of books.

Starting early — and continuing through the years — the list of volumes has been criticized not so much for what was contained as for what was excluded. But Eliot didn’t intend for his choices to represent every discipline, nor even wholly represent any discipline included. It was what it was and, considering the audience to whom that speech was given — an audience of working men — and to whom the final canon was aimed, Eliot did a remarkable job in his selections. Besides, it was largely Eliot’s list.

But there’s no doubt that original list of books would have some substitutions if compiled today. The same goes for my list of magic books; there are some selections I’d have made ten years ago that can be replaced today by a more up to date book (or set of books.)

And therein lies the fun of coming up with a five foot bookshelf. You are free to make up your own list based on your own needs and criteria.

And that brings up to the world of magic and mentalism.

A little over a year ago, I posted Five Feet of Literary Love, based on a list Annemann created, of which he stated:

Down through the years have come many books on the art of magic and allied subjects. Of late the production of such literature has increased until hardly a week goes by without the appearance of a book, brochure or manuscript. Many are good and many are not. The titles given here is an impartial and unbiased opinion of my own as to what books constitute a working library on the art of mystifying.

Every included work has its value and I take my stand now that the shelf of magic as herein listed covers every phase and known principle necessary to a modern performer. There are hundreds of other books, magazines and pamphlets which contain excellent and practical effects but I’m not listing trick books alone. I’m listing what I think are textbooks and if an absolute stranger to magic asked me tomorrow what books he should buy I’d give him this list. Check it over carefully and see if you can think of a subject connected with mystifying that isn’t covered with the best book (my opinion) obtainable.

That’s close to the concept of the Harvard Classics for magic. And the list is hard to argue, even today.

Suppose someone were to ask you to put together your five foot bookshelf of books representing your own interests in magic and mentalism — not a general course for everyone, but something representing who you are in magic today. How would you start? What would be your criteria for what could and could not be included? Hey, it’s your list, it’s your set of rules.

For me, the only hard and fast rules would have to be: only books published publicly; no private editions; and no booklets or lecture notes. Beyond that, I can’t think of a good reason to limit things.

It’s been a very, very long time since I’ve worked on my list and, even if I could find previous iterations, my contemporary list would certainly be different today than it would have been even a year ago.

Surveying the shelves of books in my magic library as it stands today, I know I’d have to include the following in my first cut at creating a list (in no particular order):

The Jinx three-volume reprint
Stanyon’s Magic three-volume set plus Serial Lessons (Kaufman edition)
Stuart James — The First Fifty Years
Stuart James — The James File (with index)
The Secret Ways of Al Baker
Card College, Roberto Giobbi five-volume set
13 Steps to Mentalism, Corinda
The Compleat Magick four-volume set
The Compleat Invocation three-volume set
Mind, Myth & Magick TA Waters
The Books of Wonder, Tommy Wonder
The Magic Menu two-volume set
Stars of Magic
Mastering the Art of Magic, Eugene Burger
Expert Coin Magic, David Roth

Most of that is pretty simple to understand if you know my professional interests in close-up magic, mentalism and bizarre magick. Someone without an interest in performing for hire would trade the 3-1/2″ of The Magic Menu for something else.

Hate mentalism? Well, I’m not going to add it up, so let’s just say you’d have room for the Paul Harris Trilogy, Tarbell, and some electives on top of that.

Stuart James and Al Baker come in at almost eleven inches of books, and worth every bit of space given the width and breadth of what is taught within the covers.

What about what I left out?

Redundancy, and certainly not a lack of veneration, causes Bobo to be replaced by Roth. Same for “The Art of Magic” and “Greater Magic” — certainly two of my cherished volumes — when I consider the contents of Stanyon’s.

As many fine books on mentalism I own, I believe The Jinx, The Compleat Magick, and 13 Steps will satisfy that pallet. Becker’s Stunners! Plus! is a wonderful book, but I’d venture to say any of the concepts found in there can also be learned in the previously mentioned volumes. Same for another of my personal favorites, “The Mental Mysteries” by William Larson. And then there’s all of Max Maven’s work in mentalism I rationalize not including by virtue of his contributions to Magick.

Most obvious, naturally, is that Tarbell is not on the list. My criteria for this list is based on personal interest as it stands today, not in creating a magic version of the Harvard Classics. (This lets me cheat.) While certainly one of the finest sets for laying a well-grounded foundation in magic, Tarbell contains too much of what I’m no longer interested in. I believe what it does include is covered in the volumes I did choose.

The Fitzkee Trilogy is also absent from that list. My dearly departed pal Mike Rogers and I had plenty in common, and an opinion on this set of books is one of them.

I was very tempted to include Brad Henderson’s “The Dance” to that list, given my interest in readings, but that’s a topic best learned by doing. The book is certainly my favorite on the subject, though. So, naturally, there was no need to consider other titles on my shelf which are often cited as bibles: “King of the Cold Readers” by Herb Dewey and Bascom Jones, and the three Herb Dewey/Thomas Saville volumes, “Red Hot Cold Reading”, “PsychoBabble”, and “Mindblowing Psychic Readings”.

Then there are the ebooks. In the psychology department, Richard Osterlind’s “Principles of Magic” should sit right next to “Mastering the Art of Magic” and the volume I didn’t include, “Magic & Meaning” by Burger and Neale. There is the ebook version of Stanyon’s, but I have a fondness for my set of books.

By my estimation and the use of a tape measure, that leaves thirteen inches to be filled. And, for me, that’s where the blood is spilled because even the list above is just a first cut, not the final list.

The next excercise would be the bloodiest of them all: actually creating the magic version of the Harvard Classics shelf — a college course in magic, soup to nuts. I’ve been working on that list almost since I became seriously interested in magic, and it is no small thing to do.

So. What would be your choices?

UPDATE: Talk about your senior moments. I added TA Waters’ “Mind, Myth & Magick” which means the remaining space is even tighter.

Now that word is spreading across the Internet that copies of “The Protocols of the Elders of Magic” are being delivered, I’m seeing an awful lot of activity here at the digital home of Escamoteurettes in the form of Google searches for hints at what’s between those beautiful covers.

The new book by Max Maven, published by Hermetic Press, was described as “an unpleasant little book that no discerning library should be without. Over a century in the making. No tricks. Only one secret, but it’s a killer!”

Not much to go on, is it? I made my guess over a week ago. And, as I told Steve Bryant in an email today, I was wrong — but at least I’m consistent, darn it.

It will be eternally unfortunate for that sorry soul who tips the secret, but that hasn’t stopped Mike Maddox from listing his copy for sale on eBay. Bidding started at $1 and has already skyrocketed to $3 $76 $91 $100 — where she stops nobody knows.

Perhaps the greatest motion picture ever filmed — outside of “Smokey and the Bandit“ of course — has to be “Scrooge“ featuring Alistair Sim. (I like the 1938 Reginal Owen version, too, but to me, Alistair Sim is Ebenezer Scrooge in the same way Timothy Dalton is Bond. James Bond.)

Early enough in the flick, Scrooge comes face to face (sort of) with the ghost of his departed old partner Jacob Marley. In a scene that still sends a shiver up my spine, to answer Scrooge’s suggestion that they were just doing “good business” Marley howls a blood-curdling, “Mankind was my business!” — only Michael Hordern, the actor playing the par t of Marley, enunciates the word “business” as “busy-ness.”)

Over on his blog, MagiCentric, Steve Pellegrino continues the Sankey/Penguin/Magic Makers saga, and posts a picture of me on his blackboard as he points and pontificates about how Penguin Magic/Magic Makers are not the same company; are preferred vendors for L&L Publishing and Michael Ammar; are not Evil Incarnate; and how I’m being petty by addressing Sean by the name he gave the first time I encountered him.

I’ll state again that Pellegrino is free to have and share whatever opinions he holds, and to associate with whomever he wishes, but let’s remember Pellegrino has a penchant for placing his bet on the wrong horse and having to eat crow as a result. (Pie a la Shell Game, anyone?)

Fellow Louisianian James Carville wrote a book a few years ago, partly in an attempt at explaining the unexplainable: his dogged and blind loyalty to certain people in his life. The book was called “Stickin'” and was typical Carville. By the end of the book you’ve been served so many side orders of juicy rationalizations, deep fried in the fat of blind loyalty that it’s hard to tell when he’s being serious and when his tongue is planted in his cheek. (Actually, he’s being dead serious throughout, which is why the Pellegrino-Stickin’ association came to mind.)

I respect loyalty an awful lot. It’s one of two reasons many people prefer dogs to people, the other reason, of course, explained by Mark Twain in this quote:

“If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous, he will not bite you. This is the principle difference between a dog and a man.”

Blind loyalty, on the other hand, is foolish. If I have to explain why, there’s no point to even start.

In the end, this goes back to the distinction between “ethics” and “just business.”

But it’s his final punctuation mark at the end of the piece — the part where he states “End of story. The rest of the crap is none of our business.” — that’s awfully amusing to read when one considers the source.

I guess I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t entertained by Penn & Teller “Off the Deep End” (a self-fulfilling prophesy of a title if I ever saw one.)

According to ratings figures, the P&T television special managed to get beaten by everything except reruns of Reba.

Wow.

If that’s not bad enough, ABC’s America’s Funniest Home Videos had more viewers than the P&T special.

Ouch.

In the event some major television network again extends the opportunity for Penn & Teller to produce a television special, I hope they manage to produce one that people find entertaining. All in all, it seemed to me this television special would have been more at home on the WB network, where audiences are used to being abused and taken for granted.

UPDATE: “Someone” took me to task today, suggesting I don’t know my shoe from container of Shinola when it comes to television ratings. Well, please allow me a bit of arrogance so that I can climb out on this shakey limb and suggest I may know just a little about television ratings. You know, and stuff.

When your television show gets its ass kicked by America’s Funniest Home Videos — and the calendar shows it is the year 2005 — your ratings suck. Even stripping away my, you know, limited knowledge of ratings and that sort of stuff, it seems a bit obvious.

Also, comparing P&T’s broadcast television ratings last night to Criss Angel’s cable phenomenon seems a bit — oh, how shall I put this? — specious? And that’s being generous. Yes, it’s simply embarassing that the local guy, who swept the election with a landslide win in the city council race, didn’t get as many raw votes as the losing state governor got. I’ll bet the local guy’s constituents are all torn up about it.

Criss Angel is singularly responsible for A&E, known for delivering codger ratings to the doorstep of agencies the world over, to break into the 25-54 money demo. (Or something like that. I only overheard stuff like that at the nearby table over lunch one day last week.) Criss Angel delivers the goods where it counts, and he’s rightly praised for it. And, just like P&T, Angel is using his success as a stout platform on which to launch his personal success in the land of little pieces of paper sporting pictures of dead presidents on them. I wish him all the success in the world.

The bottom line is the ratings from last night support the suggestion that I wasn’t alone in thinking the show was not entertaining. If the P&T fanboys and fangirls are happy with the emperor’s new suit, God bless them all I say. For me this isn’t love/hate for Penn & Teller — when it comes to the P&T act these days, I’m agnostic — it’s simply that I didn’t find the show entertaining on any level.