Manual Magic

[Barrett Dorko]

Reflexive effect and dealing from the center

Dealing “seconds” from the top of a deck of cards, while not necessarily easy, has been mastered by countless people. Many have also learned to deal from the bottom. Working at the edges of a deck, like the edges of the body, isn’t uncommon or hard and most stop there.

I haven’t gotten to the part of this book that describes how dealing from the center is done; I don’t even know if that’s in there, but I’m pretty sure of one thing – it won’t involve extra force.

Manual magic is characterized by its persistent gentleness and the reflexive effect of touch. This effect always accompanies the deformation of the skin and it has no linear relationship to the pressure applied on the surface. In fact, one could easily make the case that increasing the force reduces our awareness of this effect. And reflexive effect can be sensed in the deepest parts of the body.

Getting to the center of a deck of cards probably has some similarity to manual magic. I’m betting it is done with subtlety; that the path toward it requires some careful study and practice. But, of course, the manual magician’s efforts need not be hidden, and (fortunately) they aren’t dealing with an inanimate object. After all, the deck can’t open itself.

But people will reveal their movement at the center with nothing more than the right kind of permission. We can help them do this by creating an acceptable context for this behavior, but that will require that we know something.

More about that something soon.

[Barrett Dorko]

More on reflexive effect

The manual magician understands that they are sensing and trying to influence a complex system. As Buchanan makes clear in Ubiquity: The Science of History . . . or Why the World Is Simpler Than We Think, “These systems contain continuously changing pathways of influence throughout their structure that aren’t easily measured or, for the most part, simply altered in a direction we would prefer.” Now, this sounds a lot like the ectoderm to me, especially that “not easily measured” part. Oh yes, the “continually changing pathways of influence” part as well.

Reflexive, as opposed to mechanical, effect is dependent upon the connections within the nervous system. Given that, we have to assume that that this effect is unpredictable and instinctive in nature. Since it’s instinctive we’d have to assume it’s good for the one doing it.

“Employ Simple Contact,” I say, “and now the fun begins.” I say “fun” because not knowing how the nervous system will respond keeps the therapist awake during treatment, and it can certainly waken the patient to their current activity and their potential for change in the directions they’d prefer. The manual magician’s job is to witness and explain this activity, not control it. It’s a good idea not to recoil in horror and/or wonderment as well.

I took a series of magic classes years ago and occasionally heard of how the instructors had had remarkable coincidences work in their favor. Noticing this, they simply behaved as if it had all been planned. “When the chosen card accidentally falls beneath another object and nobody else notices that, don’t panic.” they’d say. “You’ve got a miracle working for you.”

And so it is with reflexive effect. The therapist can only dampen it with coercive handling or heavy pressure, which is why most never see it or hear about it. But manual magic will always bring this to the fore. It’s why Simple Contact appears so, well, magical.

Our job is to understand it and explain it.

More about reflexive effect can be found in The Ignorance of Jed.

[Barrett Dorko]

Manual magic vs deception

I’m getting deeper into this book and it’s clear that it will provide plenty of material for the manual magic thread.

A word about that. Every new post generates nearly 100 views within a 24 hour period, and at over 6000 views now this thread has begun to compete with just a few others in popularity. But there’s a real difference – without exception, the others contain a great deal of controversy, argument and, at times, outrageous statements. Their popularity was clearly fueled by all of that. Since none of that is contained within this thread, I’m wondering what might account for the interest.

Dai Vernon’s fascination for deception led him quite naturally toward the world of the hustler, the small-time con man and the gambler. He spent countless hours watching these people at the racetrack and was especially impressed with the direct and seamless nature of the moves they made. Without that, he quickly realized, they risked bodily harm.

What I see here is the most compelling and important difference between manual magic and magic of the usual sort. Deception on the therapist’s part isn’t permitted. I’ve watched more than a few of my colleagues palpate others in an effort to discover all sorts of movement and alterations in tissue. There’s no reason to believe that any of this can actually be felt, but they claim to do so all the same. It seems to me that they have managed to deceive themselves. I can relate.

We should take care to remind ourselves that the one doing the “trick” is always the patient. Our job, again, is to create a context that makes that corrective movement acceptable and understood.

Not everybody handling patients gently in a manner similar to Simple Contact understands this, and when I am asked how what I do is different (and I always am) perhaps I should say, “I know the difference between reality and deception, including self-deception. I learned this difference by studying current neuroscience, so that advanced technology (see the top of the first post) doesn’t appear magical to me. It’s nothing more than what might be predicted and understood.”

[Diane]

I think I figured out finally why I don't like manipulation: It is a treatment system for people who don't know (yet, or ever) what else to do with their hands and with patients. It's a "put your hands here and do this" formulaic bunch of maneuvers designed to help unskilled hands/minds earn a living as human primate social groomers while simultaneously looking somehow like they deserve to. It's like learning to ride a bike using training wheels but never learning to not need them. And the "science" that is done in PT? Much of it is training wheel-ology, studies that support the perseverating use of said training wheels, never exploring ways to move beyond them. And those who would forever rely on them have quite a nerve suggesting that all PTs should or they are "riding" "suboptimally" or are being anti -"science".

OK, now back to manual magic, or the art of really riding a metaphoric bicycle through use of momentum and balance and effortlessness against gravity, not remaining dependent on heavy metaphoric training wheels.

[Barrett Dorko]

Diane,

A perfect description of a mesodermalist. Somehow it sounds vaguely familiar to me but the image that comes to mind is a therapist with a full head of hair, so it couldn't be me.

In The Magician and the Cardsharp there’s a fascinating account of a trick performed for and revealed for the young Dai Vernon. The magician displays an ordinary deck, places one of the cards aside and then asks his audience to name a card. It turns out that the card set aside is the same.

The magician explains that during the set up for the trick he subtly allowed the subject to see just that card. “I let you see that card without allowing you to register that you had seen it. The principle lies in gaining your attention; your undivided attention. You are concentrating on one vein of thought and your mind is on a different track. If you are conscious that you’ve seen the card then this thing won’t work.”

This sounds to me like an appreciation for what the psychologists now call “priming” – the distinct tendency to behave in a certain fashion given a recent experience.

Ideally, manual magic begins the moment a patient walks into the therapist’s venue. The information this environment provides and the implications for behavior in the near future are huge, and, unfortunately, they are often exactly the wrong ones if physical authenticity is anyone’s goal.

Despite that, I’m convinced that any therapist willing to work at it can become so clearly authentic personally that the patient senses it immediately. Their touch conveys this of course, but their way of moving about and speaking are every bit as important. The patient is typically unaware of what they’re being taught and encouraged to do – but like the carefully revealed card, it is there nonetheless. I think Jon’s Doctor Talk To Me thread speaks to this brilliantly.

One of the ways you can make manual magic immediately effective is to understand how your every movement can contribute to or detract from the outcome. When you as a therapist become yourself, all of that is effortless.

Good luck.

[Barrett Dorko]

Dai Vernon went on to read the work of William James, a man I refer to at every course. James’ appreciation for unconsciously generated muscular activity is exemplified in the quote, “Every mental representation of a movement awakens to some degree the actual movement.” James knew that it was possible to sense in a number of ways what the thoughts of another were because theses thoughts had a marker; muscular activity. It seems reasonable to me that palpation of this activity would be by far the easiest way to do this.

The Amazing Kreskin, a magician and “mentalist” who was especially popular in the 70s. His wikipedia entry includes this: “One of his best known tricks is finding his check for a performance, which he instructs his hosts to hide before each show; he has failed to find the check 9 times. Kreskin has acknowledged that he has no special powers.” In his own book Kreskin reveals the technique. He simply requests that someone hide his check somewhere in the auditorium. Then he grasps this person by the elbow and is led to the check by their movement. Clearly, this is the use of ideomotion by the magician. It recognizes William James’ insight confirmed by EMG analysis many years later.

This is also why there is no touching in poker.

In manual magic, touching is essential, but it’s only useful to the therapist who understands what’s actually happening in the patient’s brain.

[Randy Dixon]

Barrett,

If you are going to continue with this theme you might want to check out this book:
http://www.prometheusbooks.com/site/.../book_279.html
Magic or Medicine?


I saw it in the used book store today. It was $2, but I'm only allowed to buy what I can carry in my arms in one trip, so it didn't make the cut.

[Barrett Dorko]

Randy,

First of all, you need longer arms.

This book looks pretty good and I will certainly order it. Thanks.

Of course I worry a bit about getting the definition of "magic" out ahead of this subject. I hope that I've done that, but you never know.

[Barrett Dorko]

Dai's Obsession

I’d heard of Dai Vernon years ago as I read of magical performance. It was always “the legendary” Dai Vernon and I wondered about that, but now I know why.

In The Magician and the Cardsharp Karl Johnson writes a great deal about Vernon’s absolute obsession with magical theory and performance. For hours on end he would practice the smallest aspect of a sleight, honing his skills to such a degree that even other magicians similarly obsessed and skilled could not fathom how he accomplished certain effects. He would often perform what they called “true magic,” meaning that they had not yet figured out the mechanics. Doesn’t this remind you of Arthur Clark’s quote at the top of this thread?

Vernon’s tireless pursuit of the man who could deal from the center of the deck, a sleight eventually referred to as “The Central Deal,” reminds me of a number of things about manual care and those of us who have spent our careers trying to find someone to teach us yet another technique. This might easily become an obsession, and I’ve seen it many times. I’ve also seen a number of therapists promise that the really good stuff, the “advanced” technique or the “certification” will be provided at the next course, or, perhaps, a few courses from now, depending upon how much they want to make from those who are, in effect, told that they can’t learn it in any other way.

As it turned out, the central deal required tremendous strength and regular practice would invariably raise a blister on the middle finger. Doesn’t sound like much fun to me. Fortunately, I don’t ever handle things can’t move themselves.

[Bas Asselbergs]

Barrett, please check this article and short video. With a quote from Kant: "Context matters", I think this is very germaine to any form of teaching, learning, or interacting between humans.
I thought it was very interesting.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn...l?hpid=topnews

[Jon Newman]

Hi Bas,

Great post. Barrett inspired me to purchase I Am A Strange Loop by Douglas Hofstadter in a previous post (I can't recall which thread.) I've not yet read it but it's next on my list. I did open it to get a flavor for it. Here is a short excerpt

Consciousness is the dance of symbols inside the cranium. Or, to make it even more pithy, consciousness is thinking. As Descartes said, Cogito ergo sum.

Unfortunately, I suspect that this answer is far too compressed for even my most sympathetic readers, so I will try to spell it out a little more explicitly. Most of the time, any given symbol in our brain is dormant, like a book sitting inertly in the remote stacks of a huge library. Every so often, some event will trigger the retrieval of this book from the stacks, and it will be opened and its pages will come alive for some reader. In an analogous way, inside a human brain, perceived external events are continually causing them to come alive in all sorts of unanticipated, unprecedented configurations. This dance of symbols in the brain is what consciousness is. (It is also what thinking is.) Note that I say "symbols" and not "neurons". The dance has to be perceived at that level for it to constitute consciousness. So there you have a slightly more spelled-out version.

Barrett, I hope to read a book review or other posts with your particular insights regarding Strange Loop.

[Barrett Dorko]

Bas,

A wonderful link and story that has already generated a number of comments in my head soon to appear here. I saw this event briefly mentioned on Inside Edition on NBC last night as well. Thank you for this.

Jon,

Therapy's Strange Loop will appear as a new thread soon. You're right, it's an amazing book.

Off now to conduct the workshop in Boston. Nick Matheson is coming down from Canada.

[Diane]

Barrett, I thought you might like to see this note that arrived in the mail today, inside a nice art card, unsolicited I might add. (Bouquets to Jason for coming up with the term, "corrective movement", and the sheet to go with it.)

[Barrett Dorko]

The resourceful professional failing to improve the method changes the moment.

From Erdnase’s classic The Expert at the Card Table

The Jazz Age was in full rollick when Vernon developed his improvisational approach to card tricks: beginning a trick without knowing exactly what the ending was going to be or how he was going to get there. In a sense, he would let the effect take him and his spectators for a ride. This was pure jazz.

From The Magician and the Cardsharp

Manual magic doesn’t follow a specific pattern of application and its effect is unique. Location, sequence and configuration of movement can’t be known in advance. Because of this, Vernon’s approach to a card effect is remarkably similar to the sort of treatment session I conducted thousands of times over the years.

To many therapists this is somewhat disturbing. Okay, it’s worse than disturbing; it’s more than enough to make them abandon the method.

But this is the bottom line: Predictable responses to manual care diminish as the dominance of neurologic involvement rises. This makes improvisational management driven by the constantly changing "moments" during recovery from the abnormal neurodynamic essential for success.

Manual magic requires an appreciation for the nature of jazz. Remain in key, return to the primary theme and let the unconscious expression govern the progression.

[Barrett Dorko]

Yet Another Book To Read

I’ve started reading a book purchased and placed on my shelf unopened several years ago. It’s Holy Madness – The Shock Tactics of Crazy-Wise Adepts, Holy Fools and Rascal Gurus by Georg Feuerstien. I immediately had the sense that some of this work would inform me further of certain aspects of manual magic and its teaching, and its teaching is something I hope one day to do.

I’ll be writing more over the next few days about what Feuerstein has to say but wanted first to return here to something I wrote in post# 55 of this thread: I also recall seeing an old, comic magician pull out a pair of scissors and cut the thread which had been attached to a small item he had just "levitated." The audience groaned…he looked at them and said, "Hey, how else?"

This situation reminds me of those times when therapists who don’t know anything about the way I teach assume I must be some sort of “guru” and, understandably, assign all the negative connotations that word has justifiably acquired over the years.

But “guru” simply means “teacher” or “expert” and such a position isn’t something to avoid. In fact, many work to attain it. The problem of course lies in what the teacher does with his or her special knowledge. Though there are numerous examples of teachers in therapy whose primary goal is to make as much money as they can from their peers, I feel it’s possible to teach, make a living and share freely all at once. This is what I currently do. In fact, I often describe myself as “an itinerant entertainer playing the part of a teacher for therapists who want to learn something about manual care.” Well okay, I’ve never actually said this out loud but plan to one day. In fact, I might turn this phrase into a business card.

I am a guru in the strictest sense of the word, but, like many words, this one has several meanings. Feuerstein makes clear which of these I seek to be when he quotes an ancient Sanskrit text: Many are the teachers that rob the disciple of his wealth, but rare is the teacher who removes the disciple’s affliction.

When I saw that old magician say, “Hey, how else?” I understood immediately that he was taking the audience’s money for the entertainment value of his performance, but that he was also teaching them something. He was “removing their affliction.” And their affliction was a tendency to believe that the laws of physics could be violated.

Manual magicians (and I am one) do the same thing.