Penn & Teller's How To Play In Traffic by Penn and Teller
Reviewed by Jamy Ian Swiss (originally published in Genii October, 1997)
Many of my readers no doubt read the Penn & Teller section of Genii which I assembled
for the May 1995 issue. Thus it should come as little surprise to find my name briefly
mentioned in the back of this book at hand, amidst a lengthy list of thank yous and a
short list of no-thank yous. I did not have anything of particular significance to do with
this book in order to earn that mention; it is there by deem of my longstanding personal
and professional relationship with the authors. For the record, I did in fact work on the
previous Penn & Teller book as a paid creative consultant. I draw your attention to these
two (no doubt) troubling conflicts of interest to avoid any misunderstanding: I take
some measure of pride in the independent standing of this column, and while it's difficult to avoid the need to comment at times on the work of one's friends and
colleagues, the case at hand is unusual at very least by degree. However, the magic
community did such a lousy job of addressing that previous Penn & Teller book that I
have in the final analysis elected to write this review myself. If you feel this is
inappropriate you're probably right, but rest assured that my concern that you be aware
of any possible bias is sincere. You've been warned.
Penn & Teller are not merely postmodern magicians who regularly litter television talk
shows like Leno, Letterman or Conan with vermin and blood, or nightly on stages across
North America attempt to shoot each other to death with bullets marked and identified
by the audience and then fired from .357 magnum revolvers.
No, no.
Penn & Teller, true Rennaisance renegades, have also published columns, essays and
articles in the New York Times, Harper's, Esquire, Playboy, Spy, the New Yorker, and
more. And now they've just written their third book. Not bad for a couple of eccentric
guys who've learned to do a few cool things.
Like Cruel Tricks for Dear Friends and How To Play With Your Food (1992), the
newest addition to the Penn & Teller catalog, How To Play in Traffic, will be found in
the humor section of your local bookstore, but in fact includes an array of material
including essays, short stories, stunts, gags, magic tricks, a plethora of laughter-
inducing photographs and yes, plenty of that aforementioned humor. As such, the
volume is an eclectic tour through the minds of these unique creators-cum-
commentators, embracing subjects as far ranging and near and dear to their dark and
duplicitous hearts as skepticism, atheism, libertarianism, free speech, free markets, a
panoply of other varied ism's and freedoms, and sex. This is an engrossing and
entertaining book of ideas for the deeply hip in fin de siecle America.
If you're already familiar with the work of Penn & Teller, then you can expect more of
the same—like it or not— within these covers. The title refers to the loosest of excuses
for banding this material together under one cover, namely that the material has
something very loosely indeed to do with the subject of travel. The table of contents is
organized by category, and so forget any linear itemization of the contents in order; the
only order here is conceptual. Thus the book is divided into "stories— really true and
kinda true"; "stupidly easy tricks—just read 'em and do 'em"; "just as stupidly easy
tricks—but maybe you have to stick something in your pocket"; "real tricks—it's not
going to hurt you to learn something"; and "hard, impossible, immoral, and/or illegal
tricks—maybe you'll go to jail." But at least you'll probably go laughing.
An entry in the "stories" section includes a paen to the Mütter Museum and its creepily
wonderful collection of medical oddities at the College of Physicians in Philadelphia, and
another salutes the classic sideshow illusion known as Girl To Gorilla. There is an
appreciative account of attending a NASA shuttle launch that is told via a discussion of
comic timing. Another narrative touches on issues of free speech and sexuality, while
providing an awfully nifty and inexpensive tip for how to become the hit with the dancers at a strip bar, courtesy of Michael Goudeau, long-time featured juggler in the
Lance Burton show. And in "The Devil Went To Bell Labs," a short story turns a classic
barroom joke into a thought-provoking tale of computer programming set among the
computer whizzes at Bell Labs.
"Stupidly easy tricks" includes a nice stunt with which to spread a bit of joy and
confusion at your next toll booth; a strongly worded anti-drink-and-drug piece which
includes a prank to play on a drunk that will provide some slightly mean amusement but
also prevent said drunk from starting his or her own car; a version of a clever but simple
prediction trick which the great Al Koran once used to fool Albert Einstein; a
presentation for the Paul Harris/Eric Mead trick, Fizz Master, in which you transpose
the fizz from one soda can to another; the old neck cracking stunt, utilizing a plastic cup
concealed in your armpit, described here as particularly effective for freaking out your
fellow passengers on a bus or airplane; and another airplane/bus/train bit which
requires only some acting skill but is hilariously conceived and, like most everything in
the book, just plain fun to read, climaxing as it does with an hysterical full-page photo
featuring Mac King.
On to more "stupidly easy tricks" which might require a little advance preparation. One
of these entries describes an amazing trick that requires very little other than the ability
to lie like a rug with wit and style, in which you predict the time that a restaurant
waitperson sets your watch to. This is an "instant stooge" kind of thing, contributed by
circus and carnival veteran, Aye Jaye. Some of these items are far more difficult to
explain here than they are to do; in one of these, for example, in an effort to torture your
afraid-of-flying companion (even the authors confess that "This is a mean trick"), you
ask him or her to choose a country in which the plane might crash from the route map in
the airline magazine, whereupon you reveal that their point of impact has in fact been
predicted on the safety card in the seat pocket in front of them! In another rather more
cheerful item, you bring a laugh to anyone who asks for your photo ID and, according to
the authors, you might just get a free airline upgrade, or escape a possible speeding
ticket. This is a joyful bit that's too cute to ruin by revealing here, but is a delight to read
and think about; what's more, it was contributed by Tom Mullica, includes a fine
photograph of and introductory write-up about him, and also includes a photo of Lance
Burton wearing a clown nose. Would I make that up?
"Do you have any idea how many magic books Teller reads? I mean do you
have any idea? Well, I don't—but it's a lot. He wades through the mind-
numbingly bad writing confusing directions, and the zillions of tricks that
just plain don't work. And what does he get out of it? How many tricks out
of these books end up in the Penn & Teller show? Well, two, but Teller had
to reinvent how to do them."— Penn & Teller's How To Play In Traffic
Among the "real tricks" that require a bit more commitment in the practice and/or
preparation department are some real doozies. In "The Eternal Card Trick," you can
reveal a card on a bronze headstone at Forest Lawn cemetery, either by actually visiting
there or via a do-it-yourself video, that reads, "Penn & Teller—Is this your card?" and is accompanied by, indeed, the bronze impression of the Three of Clubs (natch). Deadly
funny, this.
But if that's not dark enough for you, how about inviting a friend into your hotel room,
asking them to pick a card, then opening that annoying Gideon's bible in the bedstand,
ironing a page and suddenly having three words mysteriously darken, thereby indicating
the name of the selected card? Penn & Teller encourage you to provide your own bible,
so that upon concluding the trick you can "[r]ip out the page of the bible and give it to
your friend as as souvenir. Remember, the book is your own property, so you're not
thwarting the Gideons' self-righteous intentions by mutilating the missionary bunk
they're trying to ram down your throat."
Also in this section, in an imaginatively conceived everyman miracle, your friend thinks
of a vegetable. You take his or her picture with an ordinary Polaroid camera. The
vegetable in question, which you have identified as your friend's "guardian vegetable" (a
la the current loony toon guardian angel craze); appears on the photograph as it
develops. The complete instructions and a little something extra are all provided for you
here, along with the additional materials required for producing the image of a selected
card or a Virgin Mary-like figure (which possesses a remarkable facial resemblance to
Teller). According to the authors, "This is the best kind of trick because it takes evil
scams developed by hateful cheesebag phony psychics (triple redundancy) and uses it
for truth, justice, and a good-natured joke to drive a so-called friend crazy. Let's hear it
for our side."
Hear! Hear!
These are some pretty darn good magic tricks in this section, including "The Price of
Admission," wherein, accompanied by a charming reminiscence about Teller's high
school theater and magic mentor, you'll learn to do this: Standing in an airport or a bus
station or the like, you borrow a dollar bill from a friend. You tear it into pieces and
then, after leaving one piece with you friend, openly flush the rest down the toilet.
Eventually, your friend finds a locker key in their pocket. You accompany them as they
locate the appropriate locker, open it with the key, and find a dollar bill within. Not any
dollar bill of course, but their bill; they can tell, because that missing piece fits it. No,
magic friends, the torn corner switch is not revealed here. While some might consider
this variant a bit close for comfort and I might be one of those myself, nevertheless, in
this version the handling is extremely low-tech, a center piece is used instead of a
corner, and most important of all, the magician/reader actually does flush away the
dollar bill, hence rendering the principle of a sophisticated corner switch handling
rather as incomprehensible as ever to your lay audience as far as I'm concerned, and all
the more so if you'r borrowing big bills.
Also included in the grouping of stuff you have to put some effort in to master is yet
another trick utilizing that ubiquitous Gideon bible. In the course of a rant about
psychics that would warm any skeptic's heart—"Ask yourself which is more likely: the
laws of the known universe have been suspended; or some chiseler is doing a trick and
lying about it to make money"—you make a strange, doodly-type drawing without actually watching what you are writing, since you are "drawing" by moving a paper pad
face-down on the point of a pen held by your victim. Although the drawing doesn't look
like much, and it seems impossible for you to have applied much precision to the
process, you eventually "discover" that, if held up to a mirror, the drawing depicts a
recognizable subject and an abbreviated reference to a bible verse. Turning once again
to that bible, the depicted verse verbally describes the object that has strangely appeared
on the pad. Any bizarrist, mentalist or seance magician worth his Square Circle should
think long and hard about adapting the ideas embedded in this amazing routine.
Finally, in the section on "hard, impossible, immoral and/or illegal tricks," you will see
elaborate photographic evidence of why Penn Jillette allowed his friend Tony Fitzpatrick
(a serious painter of "outsider art" fame) to carve a tattoo onto Penn's arm without using
any ink (in short, you get the pain but without the gain of permanence; this is a
temporary tattoo that draws blood and takes a couple of years to wear off). I must note
here that this elaborate contribution begins with the lyrics to a song which Lou Reed
composed for Penn entitled "Tattoo of Blood." (Jillette recorded this as the title song of
the first album with his band, The Captain Howdy, [Shimmy Disc, 1995]; a second
album is about to be released.) And finally, you are given an idea that brings a message
up on your laptop when you're powering it up for the airport security staff that is quite
likely to put you in jail, but will give you an hilarious story to tell if and when you ever
get out.
"Magic is for geeks. Magic is for boys who are not popular. (Soon, as sexual
equality spreads through our culture, we're hoping socially unskilled girls
will also be doing card tricks.) Professional magicians aren't babes. The
profession just doesn't turn out sexy stars. Magicians are either asexual or
desperate. They pick people from the audience they can flirt with them in
public. It's just not right. Some finally get enough money and fame to hire
real sexy people to act sexually attracted to them and that's even creepier.
Okay, okay, so maybe Lance Burton does okay."— Penn & Teller's How To Play In Traffic
No doubt this book will create yet another round of complaints about how Penn & Teller
are bringing about the end of magic as we know it and/or the end of western civilization.
But the history of magic is the history of exposure, from Reginald Scot to Professor
Hoffman, David Devant to Penn & Teller. I don't mind discussing or debating the issue,
but I do prefer that it be framed in the appropriate context; that is, not in terms of
religious dogma ("If you reveal the secrets you are evil and will burn in magic hell"), but
in terms of theatrical approach ("Don't ever give away the secret. ... I think it's the most
important compositional rule." As stated by Penn Jillette in the May 1995 Genii .).
What's more, I would hasten to add that this book, although it is a book for the public, is
very carefully credited. Explicit permission was obtained from the contemporary
contributors. And along these same lines, this is a book which very generously and
unabashedly promotes a respect and even love of magic and magicians. Eric Mead gets a
plug for the Tower Magic Bar. Tom Mullica gets the afore-mentioned writeup and photo.
Ken Klosterman gets a mention for a funny gag he once stumped Teller with. There is a delightful photo of magic's funniest assistant, Pamela Hayes, aka the "& Co." of Tomsoni
& Co. (you know, the better-looking one in the act who gets most of the laughs). There's
a great story about the Shimadas. Lance Burton gets a nice mention, in addition to that
photo of him (along with some other magic notables) wearing a clown nose at Tom and
Steven Mullica's wedding (worth the price of the book if you ask me). There's an
anecdote about Al Koran. There is a lovely portrait of Johann Nepomuk Hofzinser, along
with some historical information (and a matching portrait of Teller) included in a story
about Teller and Bob Read that will bring a smile to any magician's lips. There's a
portrait of Max Malini amid some memorable anecdotes. Like other magicians of their
stature, Penn & Teller sometimes get help from their friends. Rather than hem and haw
about it, they seem to delight in the chance not merely to admit this, but to use it as an
excuse to promote these generous collaborators and contributors. No one ever seems to
complain about it afterward. They have even named some of these people on national
television, which is above and beyond what any of these contributors asks for or expects.
This is a book that is kind to magic.
Some readers of this column probably started out in magic, early in their youth, by
discovering a copy of Hoffman's Modern Magic in the public library. Somewhat younger
but thoroughly middle-aged magi like myself might have begun by buying a copy of a
Bruce Elliott or Henry Hay paperback in the local bookstore. That is all perfectly well
and good, Grandpa. But we are in an age in which a new generation of magicians may
look back and find that their first introduction to magic came from a couple of
teetotaling, rational magic lovers who honored their history, impeccably credited their
sources, created imaginative new presentations, and provided extraordinary examples of
how to take classic magic ideas and adapt them to your own style, character, and point
of view. They could do worse.
