You Don’t Wanna Know

You know that moment . . . the moment that your Raven gimmick doesn’t get snagged, and the quarter that was – a moment ago – on the spectator’s hand is now completely gone . . . that moment when the dude formerly holding the coin blurts out a blast of obscenities that would make a Polish Nun blush with shame (apparently Polish Nuns have bigger potty-mouths than Navy Sailors – take it from me . . . I used to be both).

The moment when he picks up his jaw from the floor and says . . . “How the @$*()# did you do that!?”

How do you answer this question?

Is he serious?

Does he really think you’ll tell him?

“Sure Mr. Spectator, it’s a product from Chazpro – Chuck Leach called, The Raven. If you have $50, you too can be as cool as me.”

Or do you say something like: “Quite well sir!” or “Magic” or “Dog Anuses”

That’s my favorite response. The question to you, dear reader, is what is the correct response . . . is it a brush off? a “legitimate” answer? a “stock” line?

My answer is always the same –

Spectator: How did you do that?!

Jeff: You don’t wanna know.

Root:
Let’s remember our roots. This month’s root: The audience does not want to know how it’s done. Oh sure; they think they do . . . but when all is said and done. They don’t. I performed a speech in my local Toastmasters circle. The speech started with me having a card freely chosen from the deck. I then revealed a prediction (Queen of Clubs) that proved I knew what card they would pick.

At that moment, the audience was in shock. They gasped. Then I showed the deck to the audience to reveal that all of the cards are the same (Queen of Clubs). Of course, the audience clearly showed their disapproval of my actions. They groaned; they were upset that they were taken in by such a scam.

I then proceeded to explain to them that the moment they knew the secret, the magic, the feeling, the Astonishment was gone. I then gave a few examples of moments of lost magic that we’ve all experienced that ultimately robbed part of our souls. Everyone could relate. They began to appreciate the value of not knowing.

At the end of the speech, I picked up the deck from the table and once again showed the faces saying “remember this deck of 52 Queen of Clubs . . . well it’s actually not . . . it’s a normal deck” – I then showed the deck to be normal. My final words of the speech were . . . “If you’re wondering how I did THAT, believe me . . . you don’t want to know.” The speech left them with a feeling of astonishment, and a powerful lesson . . . they really don’t want to know.

Branch:
Let’s build our branches. The branch is simple . . . every time, this month, someone says, “tell me how you did it,” I want you to respond by saying, “Believe me, you don’t want to know.” If you are pressed further, say “You think you want to know, but trust me . . . you really don’t. I promise.” If even further discussion is warranted – which it often will be – don’t be afraid to explain the concept. See my December 2007 article about Astonishment if you want even more detail on the subject. The bottom line is that we need to train our audience to know the truth . . . They Really Don’t Want to Know!

Now go study the classics, and go discover your true magical self.

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