Welcome to the second installment of Cyclopean Orm.

One of the earliest magic tricks I remember owning (versus making), was a toy called "Fortune Teller Miracle Fish." I obtained it from a trinket machine at a store called Spartan's. If memory serves, it was transparent blue celluloid. It has long since been lost. I realize that owning this fish is not technically a specific feat of wizardry, but if you understand what the wheel of magic is all about, then I believe it qualifies. Let me elucidate.

Misdirection. Deception. Illusion.

These are the three spokes that connect the nexus/hub that is the magician to the rim that is his/her audience.

So, with the miracle fish, when you placed it on your palm, it would start moving around, tail or head flapping up and down, or the sides curling, or sometimes even turning completely over.

To divine the meaning of the movement, one simply had to look to the accompanying directions.

The movement was real, but the illusion was that it was a motion with intelligence behind it. The movement also served as misdirection because there was no easy explanation of why and how it moved. What was the deception, you ask?

The meanings of the movement, which I and everyone else took perverse glee in reading and believing. Through my young eyes of a child, the fish appeared alive. I can still see it, and it is almost three dimensional instead of flat, squirming in the palm of my hand. It looks oily, jelly- like. Like something that would crawl out of your ear on Star Trek II: The Wrath of Kahn.

Creepy Creepy Creepy.

At some time around the same age, I experienced what I call the "Limpet Incident," which I may write about in the future. I don't know which came first, the Miracle Fish or the Limpet Incident, but clearly I was some sort of fish prophet.

This is one of my earliest memories of the perception of magic/illusion. And it was one of self-deception. And to pardon any reference to the fish, I was hooked. Later, a gentle prod from my great uncle forced me to investigate sleight of hand. At a humble thirty-five years of age, I now delve into both magic and magick--much to the chagrin of my Protestant Fundamental Baptist roots.

My mother warned me I would end up this way if I kept studying mentalism and multiplying billiard balls. She knew it would lead to drugs and murder and KISS.

Nearly three decades later from that surreal gift from a trinket machine, an inner time clock went off and demanded I locate a Fortune Teller Miracle Fish. I had seen some modern versions at a party store, but they were different in style (red celluloid.) I bought some anyway and it helped lessen the craving. Later, I lucked out and located an old version from the 1930's that had more definitions of the various movements and the fish was made of a fragile white paper type material with blue details. It had a different name: "Modern Fish-Oracle." I like it. I like "old" anything. Women, records, cars, etc. You name it.

An exception to this rule would have to be food. Old food sucks.

I recently made a couple of additions to my collection of magic gear. Felix Furlow was cleaning out some of his memorage rooms and wanted to find a home for a few of his first magic tricks. You know how it is . You have things you don't want to necessarily keep, but they demand something other than being discarded. I did him the same honor when I was looking for a home for all my back issues of MONDO 2000.

He chose me well. I'm a bit of a bastard for guarding things. Magic props have a power all their own, and they demand a respect and awe that, for me, borders on the religious. I don't care if they are cartoonish magic-trick-of-the-month gems or various orphans from different magic sets.

As Dennis Hopper might say, "Abrafuckingcadabra, man."

You may be wondering where I'm going with this column. Patience my future Blackstone. Relax, dear embryonic Houdini.

Like they say, keep your eye on the empty hat.

The second addition I added to the Magic Vault is a book by T.A. Waters.

You don't know him? Tut tut.

Mr. Waters is a very interesting magician. He worked for years in military intelligence. He has a mysterious past. In other words, a prime candidate for smoke and mirrors activity. He looks like a hit man with a deck of TV Magic Cards in his pocket.

His book, Mind, Myth & Magick, is something that will leave you wanting to drop whatever you are doing and practice mind reading, bizarre magick, psychometry, etc. At over 800 pages, you can also use it to make your living room tilt in any desired manner.

I can't say enough good about the guy.

Unlike a sterile performer, say like, oh I don't know, DAVID COPPERFIELD, Mr. Waters injects the craft with an almost occult presence. At a recent magic conference, Harry Anderson showed up wearing a mask depicting an intimidating bald man and claimed he was T. A. Waters. It went over well and Waters thought it was funny too.

Don't get me wrong, Copperfield has the best magic that money can buy. He has the best equipment. . .the best wife. . .the best hair. . .er. . .you know.

The problem with Copperfield is that he attempts to keep up the illusion of his stage presence into other areas of his life. When he does this, I see the magnets, the strings, the powdered fake milk substitute (That's an inside magic reference.)

With Waters, by God, I see a true magician.

In every sense of the word.

I could go on and on about Mind, Myth & Magick, but the truth of the matter is that you can have absolutely no idea what it's like unless you peruse a copy. Let's see. . .

It's like, in surreal painting, there's no beating Dali or H. R. Giger or DiMaccio.

In music, you can't beat true masters, be they Elvis, Hank Williams, or Mozart.

Well, in magic, you just can't beat T. A. Waters.

Now, here is the payoff of the column. Life is a magic trick. Everything you see (and do) is a form of misdirection. The goddess Maya is in control. Illusion is the norm. Some of the best pleasures in life are those of self-deception. The mind is a servante tray on the magic table of reality. You don't know what a servante tray is? Research, oh sluggish Thurston, research.

What you must learn to do is manipulate the trick in your own way. It is supreme irony that you should practice in front of a mirror. Misdirection is amazingly similar to advertising, public relations, and attitude.

And above all, remember this:

There is always going to be some dickhead that tries to spoil the effect for everyone.

These guys are to be pitied. They've lost all sense of the magical and they orbit a necrotic sun.

If you want to find your own vintage fortune teller fish, I suggest you take out a cheap ad in the PCM. The Paper Collector's Marketplace is one of the best ways in existence to find paper exonumia of all types. Twelve issue subscriptions are only $20 and you'll meet a lot of honorable old timers who have been around the block. How the Hades do you think I obtained my much revered copies of Satan's Scrapbook? I met an old timer through the PCM who had five different pristine mint copies, that's how. For those of you who don't know, Satan's Scrapbook was a girlie magazine published by Parliament in the 1960's. Enough said:

http://www.tias.com/mags/pcm

PCM
P. O. Box 128
Scandinavia, WI 54977-0128

If you are interested in seeing an awesome magic catalog which of course, offers Water's book, then I can not over emphasize the need to contact Steven's Magic Emporium. This catalog is built like an issue of Scientific American or something. It's full size, comes with a cool photograph of a famous magician on the cover, has many medium to high dollar magic products, excellent interviews, excellent books, and more.

And they almost always have a picture of Sigfried & Roy on the back cover. And you have to love those two.

http://allmagic.com/stevensmagic

Steven's Magic Emporium
2520 E. Douglas
Wichita, KS 67214

Tell them The Cyclopean Orm sent you.

(And the magician reached into the empty hat and pulled out a strange non-white and non- furry rabbit.)

And the Blue Rubber Rabbit says: "Phase two complete. But how in the bleeding hell did I get transported from my Enochian Chamber into this musty old hat?"

Copyright 1998, Cyclopean Orm