I am a fan of ebooks. (Or e-books, e-Books, eBooks…whatever floats your boat.) One thing I can’t say I’m a fan of is sloppy, irritating, tedious, “creative” formatting. This is one reason so many people, when asked, still prefer good old paper-based books rather than their digital equivalents. It’s like asking someone, “Would you prefer a free $100 bill, or a free root canal?”

Desktop publishing (you know, computer + publishing software + laser printer = hell) unleashed a torrent of 8-1/2″ X 11″ flyers that, while marginally better on the eyes than the telephone poles upon which they eventually found themselves stapled, were not much better at effective communicating.

A new generation of desktop publishing, whereby the software (Microsoft Word and Adobe Acrobat) changed the end product (PDFs rather than paper flyers), didn’t exactly create a quantum leap in readability.

I suspect not one in one hundred ebook publishers is even vaguely aware of the time, effort and careful consideration that goes into not only formatting, but typography, when publishing a traditional (dead tree-based) book. There is both art and science to putting ink on paper in such a way that the reader wants to turn the page, let alone pick up a book in the first place.

A few years ago, Michael Ammar released what could be considered a cutting edge design in his book, “The Complete Cups and Balls Book.” Some of the reviews were not kind — not so much for the content, which was top-notch, but for the manner in which it was presented. Michael Close gave it three thumbs up in his September 1998 MAGIC Magazine Review of the book. I thought the book was great, but you know me and my penchant for being in the minority.

I am a huge, unabashed fanboy of Tom Peters. My introduction to the Peters Way was probably the same as most people I know, his book, “In Search of Excellence“ — possibly the largest business book I ever purchased and actually read more than once. (In Barnes & Noble the other day I noticed the newer format of the book reduces the typesize and, therefore, the apparent formidable page count.) His live seminar on innovation is one of the best I have experienced.

His recent book — “Re-imagine!“ — is over 350 pages in length, and one of the hardest books for me to wade through. And it’s not because of the context; the text is fun to read. No, the problem is its layout design. Wow. That’s not the kind of innovation I enjoy. I have to force myself to open the lid to that otherwise excellent book. It’s not exactly like taking a spoonful of castor oil, but my hand attempts to stray over to a Scarpetta novel instead.

But this is about ebooks.

Who does magic ebooks right? Richard Osterlind’s eBooks are probably the best formatted I have in my eLibrary. Jim Sisti is responsible for that.

Michael Close’s “Closely Guarded Secrets“ is a joy to read, and I have over and over and over. Michael’s wife, Lisa, is responsible for that.

Beyond that? Hmmm. Nothing comes immediately to mind, and that says something to me.

This topic was brought to mind after reading C.E. Petit’s blog entry, “On the Page.” Scrivener’s Error, Petit’s blog and part of my daily routine, is described thusly:

Law and reality in publishing (seldom the same thing!) from the author’s side of the slush pile, with occasional forays into military affairs, censorship and the First Amendment, legal theory, and anything else that strikes me as interesting.

Having only played a lawyer on television, and having taken courses that were to set me on the lawyering path (which path was abandoned when I discovered computer software development,) I have more than a passing interest in the law. Blogging lawyers are another gift to me from the Internet.

But I am a fan of Petit for another reason. From his web page:

The people who should make decisions concerning content use are those who create and use the content, with advice from professionals and marketers—not the other way around

If you’ve been reading Escamoteurettes for any length of time at all, it should be obvious my stand on that quote.

“On the Page“ (at least the rant portion of it) discusses the subject of typography. If you publish ebooks, or you’re wondering why you find some (most?) ebooks a chore to read, Petit’s rant is worth a look.

It also points to a terrific free resource, a PDF titled, “Painting with Print” written by Ruth Anne Robbins. Published by The Journal of the Association of Legal Writing Directors and distributed on the web site of the Unites States Court of Appeals for the Seventh Circuit, you’ll have to visit Scrivener’s Error to get to the link. (And while you’re there, why not take a look around and expand your knowledge and vocabulary?)

Read ’em and reap.

I just thought some of you may be interested in this:

For his next stunt, David Blaine says he’ll perform an “easy and fun” high-wire act in Manhattan on Halloween.

Blaine explains, “Basically, it’s something that’s been done in the circuses, based on the old high-wire acts.”

The entire (short) article is here: Blaine plans NYC Halloween trick

This should make the “string him up“ crown delighted.

.

Update: Bill Wheeler posted a note on the Genii Magazine board that pointed to this link, which, apparently, provides more of the story AP filed. It added this bit:

While some have said his tricks no longer constitute magic in the traditional sense, Blaine said that’s too narrow a view.

“I think magic is whatever the individual defines it to be. I say it’s all magic.”

I still like David Blaine. And there’s one reason why.

Religious tolerance has to be the oxymoron of the twenty-first century. (Oxymoron, by way of clarity, isn’t a toothpaste for idiots.) It, and its first cousin, “diversity,” may have their roots in good intentions, but have had their respective meanings twisted all out of shape.

One would expect that, in this enlightened society so many fervently believe they live in, diverse opinions would be celebrated, embraced, discussed, and — I hope you’re sitting down for this — respected. Well, that didn’t even work in several incarnations of Star Trek so you know it’s not going to work here in the real world.

Maybe I’m in the minority on this, but I find I am perfectly capable of having an enjoyable and pleasant conversation with anyone who isn’t intent on doing me bodily harm. I do my best not to discount out of hand someone’s point of view simply because I happen to have a different political point of view on some matter, or because my religious beliefs happen to be in contravention to someone else’s. Once I find someone is from planet earth, I figure we have more in common than not, and surely there’s something to talk about. I guess I’m just silly that way.

But not everyone agrees with that way of looking at life. So, in keeping with that theme, I bring you: Gospel magic.

This is a piece I’ve been writing in fits and starts for many years. For some, the subject matter is as much an enigma as, say, Ryan Seacrest’s star on the walk of fame or the relative popularity of Jessica Simpson. For others, it’s part and parcel of why they entered — and stayed — in the world of magic.

“Gospel” and “magic” juxtaposed? Seriously? Well, yes, seriously.

Now, in the spirit of full disclosure, I fully understand the concept of not preferring a particular aspect of performance magic. For instance, when I see someone produce doves on stage, first I begin to itch. Then I experience an overwhelming — almost uncontrollable — urge to shove my fingers deep into my eyeball sockets and wiggle them around, all the while hurling epithets containing calculus terms. I’m sitting here trying to think of some aspect of magic I dislike more than a tux and tails act with silks, and doves and, well, I’m drawing a blank.

I feel the same for much of what passes for stage illusion these days (or, properly enunciated, “stage illooooooooooooosion“.) If it weren’t for the chicks dancing around the perfectly normal boxes I probably wouldn’t stomach stage illusion at all, period.

Card magic? I have seen very little of what I could honestly call card magic. I’ve seen loads of card tricks, but not much card magic.

Bizarre magick? I fully grok the bizarre part. But my chalice dothn’t runneth overeth with magick, that’s for sure.

So I understand why some people would have something of an issue with Gospel magic. Except, for many, it doesn’t seem to be with the magic part so much as ridiculing the Gospel part. I find that imbecility just part of today’s tolerant and diverse society. I mean, that’s what it means to be tolerant of diversity, isn’t it? I either believe what you believe, or if I dare to disagree with you it’s considered “hate speech.” Isn’t that the way it works?

Whatever.

There are so many aspects of magic, so many interpretations, so many avenues — it’s an artform, for pity’s sake — I’m not sure why it is that some people find the need to denegrate this particular aspect of magic. Given everything that makes up the wide and long cloth of magic, certainly there’s room for a brand of magic that caused the following to be written in the prelude to a book on the subject:

“I believe in this unique method of teaching great and important religious truths.

“In the early history of the church false teachers used the art of magic to disturb the peace and confuse the thoughts of the faithful. This they did by the performance of false miracles and a sham display of supposed supernatural powers. In this book the author who is a famous illustrator has employed the art of magic to illuminate and illustrate the holy truths of our faith and so in this day of light and grace magic has become a teacher and defender of Christianity.

“I have personally known Rev. C. H. Woolston, D. D. for a number of years. He was a close student of the art of magic under my own personal instruction and we consulted together as to the mechanical and magical effects described in the chapters of this book.

“I take great pleasure in saying that these mechanical and magical effects are both dignified and in accord with the highest branches of both ancient and modern magic. It is my candid opinion that they can all be reproduced by intelligent and painstaking practice. I am most happy to welcome to the literary world this volume of demonstrated truth. ”

That, by the way, was Howard Thurston who, if memory serves, may have known a thing or two about magic.

What’s really the point to Gospel magic? Well, that depends upon who you ask.

I’ve heard and read it said that Gospel magic uses illusion to illustrate some Christian teaching — magic with a Message. In fact, much of what you’ll find in the Gospel magic books put quite a bit of emphasis on object lessons. Some are even good and entertaining.

If you are a student of the Bible as either the basis of your religious point of view, or simply because it’s an interesting book and subject of much discussion in and out of religion, you’ll find it is filled with object lessons. For many, many years schools have employed object lessons in teaching because it works so well. Outfitting a magic trick with a Gospel message engages many children — and adults, too — so it works in that venue where, say, a sponge ding dong might not.

In this case, magic is used in the same way I have used it in the corporate arena: not as the message, but as the vehicle for the message.

It’s my opinion that there’s not much in the way of really great Gospel magic. And this is where I agree with some of its detractors: bad magic is just bad magic, regardless the intent. I’ve found too many cases of attempts at shoe-horning a Gospel message into a traditional magic routine and…it just doesn’t fit. (And as we all know, if it doesn’t fit, you must acquit.)

I’ve found the best Gospel magic performances are just great magic performances, period. They don’t necessarily fill the routine with any type of message other than fun and entertainment. (Remember those aspects of magic?) Believe it or not, there’s a huge market for good wholesome entertainment devoid of unfortunate language or inuendo. I was disappointed in the David Copperfield performance I saw not so long ago because of the borderline blue material contained in it. Hey, it’s his show and he can script it however he likes. I don’t have much interest in seeing it again, though.

Occasionally I’ve come across people who can’t find harmony in the words “Gospel” and “magic” used in the same sentence, let alone on the same stage. Often I find this is a result of taking the English translation of the word “magic” in the Bible and applying it to our present-day meaning of the word. The “magic” of the Bible is not the magic that is the subject of this blog. But, feel free to apply that mistranslation if it makes you happy.

I’ve also run across people who simply don’t care for Christianity at all and, therefore, are opposed to Gospel magic. Well, obviously I’m not a very big fan of dove magic, but you don’t see me going around biting the heads off doves.

And then there are some of the practitioners of Gospel magic themselves. (Some, not all.) Again, like some of Gospel magic’s detractors, it’s not so much the magic as it is the Gospel part. I’ve never found many people who were just beside themselves with delight to be beaten about the head and shoulders with the Bible and being told they were going to hell — even if it was true. They may have the Good News, but their delivery sure sucks. Some of these people would do well to spend some quality time with another type of bible, one written by Dale Carnegie.

I was talking with my friend Jim Short the other day and I repeated one of my very favorite religious quotes:

“The greatest single cause of atheism in the world today is Christians, who acknowledge Jesus with their lips and walk out the door, and deny Him by their lifestyle. That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable.”

That’s a quote from Bennan Manning. It’s bothersome to some of my Christian brethren mainly because it’s true. I like it so much I use it as a bookmark in my own Bible.

The phrase “card magic” or, more accurately “card tricks” causes more than one person to recoil not because card magic is inherently bad, but because they’ve experienced some awful performance of card magic in the past and that’s shaped their opinion of it. That is human nature and extends to religious and political matters as well as card tricks.

I’ve stated this before and I think it bears repeating: you can’t use the word magic without qualifying what you mean. Card? Coin? Rope? Stage? Three-meter? Close-up? Street? Mentalism? Comedy? Bizarre? And yes, even Gospel has its place.

Aside from the obvious smoke-and-mirrors connection, magic and politics share one additional, unassailably strong tie: like politicians, the general public just assumes we are lying to them. (Yes, I know, not all politicians are liars. Dead politicians don’t lie, and the live ones who tell the truth we call “single-term politicians.”)

Truth be told, for the most part, we do lie to our audiences. Sure, there are some performers who don’t lie as much. But you have to admit, the sky’s the limit when you have been given implicit carte blanche to tell tall tales in the name of entertainment.

Is it completely necessary to lie when engaging in mystery entertainment? No. It reminds me of the words of Bob Lewis, “He’d tell a lie when the truth would fit better.” But I guess that depends upon what your definition of “fit” is. The issue usually is we aren’t all blessed with a rich (genuine) history to use as a coat and tie for our routining. Not all of us have a crazy aunt, or a haunted house. (A haunted car maybe, but not a house.)

I’ve used this quote before. It’s from my departed friend Mike Rogers from his lecture notes, “Opinions: A Lecture on the Art of Magic”:

“It’s all right to lie when doing magic. We are in the only business in the world where lying is accepted. Everything is a lie. We don’t do real magic; we lie about it. When we tell the lie well out magic will look real.”

In the world of magic and mentalism, a lie during a performance is a locofoco; sure there are other ways to light up, but this is as creative as any other.

I once quoted Harlan Tarbell along these same lines:

As entertainers we use the illusionary side of magic to entertain audiences — but we do so with the right spirit. Down the ages the man with a sense of humor has made entertainment from both truth and illusion, from comedy and from tragedy.

But our background has been fine — and that is why I wanted to stress at this time the importance of the Magi as well as a rough sketch of their teachings.

Audiences automatically look at the magician as being possessed of some unusual power and being on just a plane ahead. To lower an audience’s opinion of us is to court disaster.

There is an art to lying in performance and making it work. The delivery makes the difference. Some performers make a big lie a successful foundation of an act. For instance, Jeff Hobson is a funny guy. On the other hand, smarmy often doesn’t work. (I’d provide an example of the latter, but I don’t have time to sift through the thousands readily available. Just be on the look out for a routine that starts with the phrases, “when I was a kid” and “my grandfather.” That should get the alarm bells ringing.)

The point of lying during a performance — aside from it being fun and all — is that it allows you to create any necessary context at the drop of a hat. (As you may know, I am a big fan of context. Take a trip down memory lane, if you will.) Context, like good quality latex paint, covereth a multitude of sins. But just as in real life, don’t abuse the power; inelegant use never works and turns the fun into a sisyphean effort that kills the joy.

Now, don’t take this as my saying one should make a left at the corner and proceed to MSU at every turn just because we can. Far from it. What I do mean is I don’t see much point in constraining and unnecessarily constricting an artistic performance. (This, as opposed to being scum-sucking bottom dwellers like James Van Praagh/George Anderson or John Edward.) I’ve known plenty of performers who shudder at the very idea of using gaffes or even stretching the truth just a little within the context of a performance. If that’s your way of looking at things, God bless you — I have no problem with it. I just disagree that it’s necessary. But then I think putting sugar into a cup of coffee is unnecessary.

When we stand (or sit) before an audience who has the expectation of being fooled, we owe it to them to do all we can — however we can — to fool them and make them happy for it. So, throw off your Geneva bands. Smile when you lie. Or at least look your audience in the eye when you lie to them. Use gaffes when convenient. Make up family members if necessary. Just leave the guilt at either end of the stage — it’ll be waiting for you when you’re done.

Scientists Create Remote-Controlled Flies

Yes Regis, that’s my final answer.

I’m not sure who, in the history of selling, originally got it into his head that lowering his normal price — having a sale — was a brilliant idea. I believe if it were possible to clearly identify this man, I believe his decendants should be punished for his crimes against commerce. Maybe they — all of them, down to every man, woman and child — should be relegated to working in WalMart marking down slow moving merchandise.

Well, maybe that’s a bit harsh. (Maybe I said.)

I remember two pivotal points in my life when the indiustrial sized halogen bulb went off above my noggin, and it occurred to me that the classic concept of “sales” was flawed.

Incident number one occurred as a result of my youthful and frequent trips to an independently owned record and stereo electronics store. The owner of the store priced his records at $6.67 each. (Records, for you young folks, look a lot like those twelve inch round, black, plastic disks DJs put on turntables and spin. Except these had good music on them.)

Now, in the history of all retail recordom, I’m not sure any record store owner ever chose such a pull-a-number-out-of-the-air price. But this record store owner did. And I was happy to pay it, too, because not only was it just a little less than the larger chain store down the road, but one day I noticed that when he rang up my purchase and added tax, the total owed came up to an even $7.

Oh, wait a second…

When I asked, he confirmed my youthful, but inciteful suspicion. $6.67 plus city and state taxes, added to seven bucks even. You see, he hated dealing with coins.

I came to appreciate the not-so-subtle differences between a B.I.C. brand receiver and McIntosh separates, and the even-less-subtle differences between a pair of JBL speakers and a pair of Klipsch LaScalas. (Please allow me a moment of silence as I bow my head and bring to mind the end of that once wonderful company called Klipsch…)

As a result of that audio enlightenment, I discussed not the latest Led Zeppelin release — which ownership was taken for granted — but which amplifier would be most appropriate to drive my new Klipsch loudspeakers so that I could enjoy at maximum volume and velocity the glorious strains of “Kashmir“ in all the “Oh, let the sun beat down upon my face” near-religious experience (can I have an “amen” brethren) Jimmy Page must have imagined when he mixed the song.

Once the decision was made, the inevitable question was raised: would this preamplifier and amplifier pair happen to go on sale any time soon?

The answer was quick and pointed. At least it was once the blank stare ended along with the accompanying uncomfortable silence:

“We don’t have sales here.”

I recall thinking to myself in that moment that, quite obviously, it was not incense I smelled burning in the back room of the store.

“What do you mean, you don’t have sales?” I asked.

He answered that he didn’t feel it was fair to charge me a lesser price this week on the very same piece of equipment he’d sold to someone else last week at the regular price. His prices were fair and reasonably set to begin with and allowed him to keep his shop open, service his customers, and earn a living.

Then he put on a brand new copy of “Fresh Aire II” on the Thorens turntable, turned up the preamplifier, closed the glass door, and let Chip Davis Steamroll my objections away one note at a time.

It was as perfectly a reasonable response then as I find it is today.

Incident number two could have happened one week, one month, or one year later for all I can remember. But I do recall it clearly because it set into concrete what that record store owner told me that day.

I was in line at a fast food restaurant eager to fill my young, healthy arteries with death-promoting chemistry that lab rats wouldn’t eat unless shocked into it. The guy ahead of me ordered the very menu item I’d planned to, and was subsequently given the same total I was used to hearing. But then Mr. Oh Wait, I Have a Coupon handed the cashier a little slip of paper that reduced his three dollars and change meal down to a dollar and change.

I didn’t have a coupon. And I wasn’t very happy at that moment to know this company could afford to sell to one guy ahead of me the same meal I was about to order, for a lot less than they were about to extract from me. Sure, logically I understood the idea behind coupons, but I didn’t have one so I wasn’t feeling like being logical about it.

The interesting thing about the fast food restaurant-no coupon experience was that everytime I later had the urge for one of those death-promoting feasts, I hesitated because I didn’t have a coupon handy. In one fell swoop, they’d conditioned me to not pay full retail price.

Department stores are notorious for that behavior today. I can’t imagine any sane human being paying full price for anything at Foley’s. Every Sunday newspaper includes a circular offering an additional 10-20% off the already reduced prices. And if you missed the newspaper circular, somewhere in your stack of junk mail (the old fashioned kind that actually costs the sender something to send, and lands in your old fashioned inbox) you’ll find a circular. Didn’t get one in the mail? No problem; there’s a stack at every door entrance and along side every register.

If Rod Serling were not dead I’d half expect him to sidle up to me next time I’m purchasing my $65 $45 $31 $23 $19 Oxford button down.

In the end, I’m just not comfortable buying anything from Foley’s — or any store that has entered the never ending cycle of sales on top of sales. I’m never confident I’m actually getting the best deal I can. And an uncomfortable shopper is not a shopper you can count on always being there.

When you price your entertainment services, keep in mind three things:

1. When a potential client focuses on price to the exclusion of anything else of merit, regardless what you say, you are dealing with a shopper and not a long-term potential client. Shoppers shop. That’s why they’re called shoppers.

2. The amount of money a client is willing to pay you is in inverse proportion to the amount of trouble you’re going to experience collecting it. This is axiomatic and is probably canon law somewhere.

3. Charging a higher fee often gets you the job over a lower priced competitor’s fee. (In those cases where this is not true, kindly refer to number two above.)

3. Clients talk. Eventually what you charged Client A gets back to Client B and if the rates are different, there had better be a plausable reason why. (By the way, to the guy who paid more, there is no such thing as a plausable reason why. You have been warned.)

We are in the service business. Clients are not equipped to adequately and intelligently rate service in the same way they cannot rate a lawyer’s or accountant’s service. They can only be happy with the results. Happy is an emotion. People buy things from people they like.

Okay, so that was eight things.

No, not that kind of bash — the old fashioned (positive) kind.

Have you visited Glenn Bishop’s web log lately? Wow.

What is it with synchronicity? This topic of method is like buying a new car and, next thing you know, there’s suddenly one just like it on every corner.

I’m winding down, leafing through a book of one of my favorite writers, and this leaps off the page:

Method is the soul of business.
–OLD SAYING.

I AM a business man. I am a methodical man. Method is the thing, after all. But there are no people I more heartily despise than your eccentric fools who prate about method without understanding it; attending strictly to its letter, and violating its spirit. These fellows are always doing the most out-of-the-way things in what they call an orderly manner. Now here, I conceive, is a positive paradox. True method appertains to the ordinary and the obvious alone, and cannot be applied to the outre. What definite idea can a body attach to such expressions as “methodical Jack o’ Dandy,” or “a systematical Will o’ the Wisp”?

That’s Edgar Allen Poe from “The Business Man“ — published in 1850. Not “The Gold-Bug“ or “The Cask of Amontillado“, but still a great story (and not nearly as long as the others.)

And who can argue with the line, “But there are no people I more heartily despise than your eccentric fools who prate about method without understanding it; attending strictly to its letter, and violating its spirit.”

Amen, and good night.

This is in addition to the post a couple days ago.

I’m a big RFID fan. When Texas Instruments first made their RFID evaluation kits available years ago, I was worse than any of the geeks standing (in the wrong line) to see Star Wars: Episode III — Revenge of George Lucas the Sith. Except, of course, I knew which line to get in: the just charge it to my Visa card line.

So, it’s not that I have any problems with technology. Far from it.

But, as I’ve mentioned before, it’s good to be mindful of what the public is exposed to. To normal people (ie. those folks who are not magicians) an explanation may as well be the explanation, regardless of how far off the mark they may well be. (And they usually are.) This was the primary point that sucked any semblance of “excuse” for what a certain failed Vegas performer did for a certain network years ago in those exposure shows: it doesn’t matter how wrong the explanation is, when a person feels he just has to know how a trick was done, any plausable explanation will do.

Properly constructed performance pieces erase possible paths without irritating spectators because they candy coat the NFW-response in something called great routining. That tends to take some of the sting out.

(I refer you now to anything Juan Tamiriz has written, uttered, mimed, thought, or wrote in the snow.)

The reference I made to the e-ink technology is just one of many examples of how technology is doing really magical things. Based on the number of trade magazines I get each month, I believe I am personally responsible for several square yards of rain forest nudity. Today’s batch of magazines included a technology-driven publication dedicated to the latest Star Wars-type technology and gadgetry. It just — once again — reminded me that, to the degree these advances in technology personally impact the lives of our spectators is the degree to which we need to plan for technology to become part of the silent dialog between magical performer and spectator.

It’s a reminder that the method is not the thing. (Insert your favorite expletive here.)

For audiences, the method was never the thing. But magicians instantly demonstrate OCD behavior as soon as something new hits the magic market. I don’t necessarily have anything against magicians buying the latest doodad to hit the market; ours is largely a hobbyist-driven market. But it does tend to feed the false belief that our side of the fence in any way resembles our audiences’ side of the fence; that they care about the same things (largely) we care about. They don’t. And the sooner we (as a magic community) embrace that truth, the sooner this herd can head toward entertaining with magic rather than demonstrating magic.

Yes, I know, “That’s nice John. Now, please join the rest of us back here in The Real World…” But it was a nice thought, wasn’t it?