A Really Lousy Trick for Really Lousy People
Guys who do spoon-bending just bend spoons when people aren't looking. It's not difficult sleight of hand. They wouldn't last five minutes at a close-up table with a real technically deft professional like Jamy Ian Swiss or even the hacks at the Magic Castle. It's not acting; acting is harder. You know the actor is playing a part and he or she convinces your heart without insulting your mind. To call it "acting" is to insult Robert De Niro and everyone in his profession. A psychic on a good day couldn't touch Jim Varney on a bad one. Know what I mean, Vern?
So what's the punch line? Where are we going with this? Well, we wanted to tell you how psychics do spoon-bending, but the tricks are so lousy, they aren't even fun to expose.
But here's a way to bend a spoon just by lying:
Convince someone you have real psychic powers. Become their friend. Get them to trust you. This is the most important step. The abuse of friendship and common human trust is the method.
Say you can't work under real test conditions because the skepticism will ruin your concentration.
Tell them it doesn't work all the time so you aren't pressured to perform on demand.
Wait until they're not looking, ram your thumb into the bowl of the spoon and bend it. If it's a tough spoon, use the surface of the table. (Yup, sorry, that's all there is to it.)
Cover the bend with your fingers so they don't know you bent it when they weren't looking. (From here on in, just more lying.)
Lie about concentrating, lie about energy, lie about being trustworthy, lie about the spoon not being bent already and slowly slide your finger to reveal the spoon's bend. (Breaking all the known laws of physics.)
Collect your ill-gotten gains and undeserved respect. (You're a big, important person.)
Enjoy yourself while you can. Wait until the side of truth and justice makes you a laughingstock.
If you want good psychic tricks, check out Penn and Teller's How to Play with Your Food at fine, discriminating bookstores, published by Villard Books, New York, NY 10022, ISBN 0-679-74311-1. You don't want to be a spoon-bender; you don't want Randi and us coming after you to crush you like an insignificant insect.
Recent comments
2 weeks 4 days ago
3 weeks 19 hours ago
6 weeks 5 days ago
6 weeks 5 days ago
9 weeks 4 days ago