Magical Monday

“I know how you hate magic, but…” started an e-mail from the aforementioned Lisa in Florida.

First: What a comfort. When somebody knows you long enough to learn the quirky little things. Like the fact that I hate magic or that I refuse to eat food out of baskets lined with paper.
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Yep. I don't like magic.

But first, we should define which type of magic.

There’s magic, Magic, and magick.

I hate the first kind, possess a bit of the second, and am highly skeptical about the third.

Explained:

mag·ic n
1. conjuring tricks and illusions that make apparently impossible things seem to happen, usually performed as entertainment
2. a special, mysterious, or inexplicable quality, talent, or skill
3. a supposed supernatural power that makes impossible things happen, or that gives somebody control over the forces of nature.
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Being tricked is not entertainment.

We know it’s not possible to pull a rabbit out of a hat or make some big-boobed bimbo disappear from a box.

But the magician tries to make you believe those things are possible. They’re trying to make you believe a lie.

Why would you pay someone to lie to you? They're professional liars. Not entertainment.
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David Copperfield. David Blaine.

Why do magicians insist on David? Does it sound more professional? More legitimate?

If one of these ridiculous magicians actually called himself Dave, the Amazing Bullshit Artist I might actually go see him.

Wait. No I wouldn’t.

But it was a sincere, albeit fleeting thought.
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Furthermore, when did sitting in an aquarium for a week become magic?

If David Blaine could make himself disappear forever, now that’s something I would pay to see.
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More on the paper-lined baskets thing: I’m not a snob. Really.

I believe that cookies and sammiches taste best when served on a paper towel at the kitchen counter.

What’s with the baskets then? It’s because of the germs. I don’t think they clean ‘em too often and that paper under my burger seems awfully thin.
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Magic. Now that’s something I can understand.

It’s a Michael Jordan dunk. It’s singing along with the crowd at a U2 concert in Soldier Field back in 1996. It’s the fireflies putting on their synchronized light show in my backyard.

And it was me, mowing on Saturday: When every turn, every movement flowed into the next resulting in a flawless lawn.

Magic with a capital ‘m’ is when everything comes together effortlessly.

I’ve experienced it and can even make it happen sometimes, but not always.

There’s a little bit of Magic in all of us. Really.
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Then there’s magick. A touchy subject because there’s a risk even talking about it.

You mean the satanic stuff, right?

No. Before the early Christians turned earth-worshipping religions into evil, there was magick.

Today many modern pagans believe that you can in fact make the universe bend to your will by using spells.

It’s a conundrum, though and something I can’t get my mind around.

Because good pagans are supposed to believe in the adage: “If it harms none, do what thou will.”

But if you find it necessary to make something happen via a spell, you’re messing with The Plan and there will be Consequences.

Furthermore, who needs magick if you can make something happen the old-fashioned way via hard work, determination or – if all else fails – wads of cash?
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I just thought of a good spell that wouldn’t harm anyone and certainly wouldn’t mess with your Karma: a spell to make your garden grow.

I wonder if that’s why they call it Miracle Gro.
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“If it harms none, do what thou will.”

Do what you feel like, just don’t hurt anyone.

Isn’t that the same as the Golden Rule?

Yep.

Even pagans believe you should treat others as you want to be treated. They just said it a little differently.
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I am listening to: Muted train conversations
I am reading: Nothing
And I am: Magical