The Young Magicians and the 24-Hour Telepathy Plot
Page 24
12: 7 P. M.
1 Which is a very long fancy-pants word for ‘being a magician’.
2 Like this, for example. Everyone writes a word on a piece of paper and folds it up and puts it in a hat. The stooge writes, say, apple. You draw the first piece of paper out at random, and you hold it to your forehead, and maybe you wave your hands over it, and your voice goes all spooky and you say, ‘This says … apple! Did anyone write apple?’ Your stooge acts all amazed and says, ‘Yes, I did!’ So you unfold the piece of paper to check that it really does say apple. In fact, you are now reading what the next person has said, say, radioactive isotopes. Then you take a second piece of paper from the hat, do the same act and say, ‘This says radioactive isotopes. Did anyone write radioactive isotopes?’ And so on.
17: 1 A. M.
1 Who’s forgotten about the BANSHEES already?!
18: 2 A. M.
1 Dewey Decimal: the search-engine system for treeware. Invented by Melvil Dewey, who actually did have a life, it’s a way of assigning each book in a library with a unique decimal number that not only tells you what subject the book is about, but where to find others like it on the shelves nearby. Mr Dewey would have had a headache bringing his system to the Magic Circle, not least because books there may be classified based on Roman numerals, the Mayan calendar or other strange counting systems.
23: 7 A. M.
1 First choose your specially prepared pre-burnt match carefully. Hold it upright between the thumb and first two fingers of one hand, while you wrap the invisible thread round it with the other. When you tug the invisible thread, at the same time give the base a gentle flick with your third finger. The vibration makes the top of the match snap off.
24: 8 A. M.
1 Blame – or thank – Galileo for this. He worked out that gravity isn’t like in cartoons, where you can continue to hang in the air for a split second before falling. In fact, it’s working on us every second of our lives. We are all in a state of constant acceleration towards the Earth’s core, at a rate of 9.8 metres per second (give or take, but which either way is really pretty fast). The only reason we’re not actually falling is that usually the ground is holding us up. The moment there’s nothing there beneath us, we instantly go to 9.8 metres per second. A second later, we’re going 9.8 metres per second faster, and so on. So, the next time you trip over and bang your knee on the ground, take a moment to thank it for saving you from a much worse fate. Be grateful to the ground. The ground is your friend. Thank you and goodnight. NO, keep reading!