So
far, David Blaine has failed to drown himself, starve himself to
death, suffocate in a coffin, freeze himself, end it all by
plummeting off a huge pole, and to spin himself normal or
entertaining. Also, and I can’t be alone here, he comes across as a
bit of a tool doesn’t he? With that biro eye on his palm, and the
staring and low, boring, monotone voice. Yep, a bit of a tool. Next
out of the tools box is an attempted electrocution, but rather than
just lick a socket or stick a fork in a toaster like any normal,
clearly suicidal person, he is going to pass one million volts
through the faraday suit and helmet he will be wearing. For three
days. With a bit of luck, some of those volts will sneak past and
pulse through him, popping his smug little head like an egg in a
microwave, or like popcorn on the hob (or in a microwave), but I
prefer the imagery of the egg.
Why Mr Blaine chooses to do these
things, I don’t know. Perhaps he imagines we give a solitary shit,
or is labouring under the illusion (Ha! He’s an illusionist so
that’s funny) that standing still/being upside down/lying in a box
usually reserved for the dead, for whatever amount of time, is
impressive. Well, I could probably sit on an over flowing toilet
whistling the theme tune to Minder, while geese shat on me from a
great height for a week, but I’ve got better things to do. Well,
other things. So in celebration of this next pointless,
clearly-possible-so-why-bother-we-don’t-care, embarrassment of a
‘feat’, I have decided to outline five exercises of mental and
physical endurance that Blaine should try next. Starting with:
The
Human Picnic
Granted,
he may have missed peak season for this one, but there’s always
next year. Simply, he slathers himself in jam – don’t mind which
flavour – washes his hair in cola, screws some tarts or mini
quiches onto his nipples, and wears a loin cloth made of snack sized
scotch eggs and cocktail sausages. Then, in the height of summer, he
lies on a chequered table cloth on the grassy floor of a British
park. The danger here is obvious: Swarms. Be they ant or wasp, they
will come. Particularly if he feeds solely on Calippos. The added
threat of local dogs coming and eating his meat pants is merely icing
on the bug infested cake. Worst case scenario, he distracts all the
irritating wildlife while normal folk enjoy their al fresco dining,
and at least if anyone throws food at him he won’t notice.
The
Bitter And The Brave
Having
spent three weeks suffering a plethora of paper cuts whilst sending
out the invites for the Magic Circles christmas party (so that
they’ll let him in), David is then tasked with squeezing the lemon
juice the event requires for its Tom Collins’ and Whiskey Sours. By
hand. In front of him is a crate of 9,000 lemons, one huge bucket,
and a giggling cameraman. After a while, say the first couple of
thousand lemons, people may get a bit bored, and Blaines Pain may
become dulled. To combat this, members of the audience that will have
no doubt gathered will be offered the opportunity to fire jets of
recently boiled salt water into his eyes. When every drop of the
vital, precious juice has been squeezed, David will be told that he
isn’t actually invited, on account of no one really liking him that
much, but the salt water will have dried out his ducts leaving him
unable to weep. Bless.
The
Pendulum
This
particular project has the benefit of a weighty, artsy, overblown,
self important kind of a name, so works before anything even happens.
After 18 months spent doing intense neck muscle training exercises
that make him look a bit like he’s trying to expel a Chieftain Tank
through his pee-pee, and maybe years mastering zen relaxation
techniques, Dave ties his hair – which has grown very long during
his regime – to the top of the 829.84 metre tall Burj Khalifa in
Dubai, dresses as a lemming from popular 1991 computer puzzler
‘Lemmings’, and jumps. Actual chances of survival are slim, but
nowhere else will you be able to witness the side splitting hilarity
of a man dressed as a lemming (from popular 1991 computer puzzler
‘Lemmings’) jumping from the worlds tallest building, combined
with the horrifying finality of either a fatal scalping, or the sound
of a neck snapping like a refrigerated Kit-Kat. Not even on Sky. And
say what you like, that’s good TV.
Death
By Narcissism
Daves
eyelids are held open, Clockwork Orange style, while he sits in front
of a seventy inch OLED, 3D, SuperAmazing Television, displaying the
entire back catalogue of his own death defying stunts. Not just the
edited bits for broadcast. All the raw video. Weeks of him sitting,
or lying, or hungry, or icy, or just talking absolute horse shit at
unsuspecting journalists. After a while he’ll probably start to
lose his mind, or his eyeballs might dry up and plop out of his face
like dead,empty marbles, and it’ll serve him right. That’s how it
feels Dave, to watch this turgid nonsense. It’s risky, yes. It’s
cruel, yes. It’s probably even illegal, but fuck it, and if he
survives they can adapt the process and use it to replace water
boarding. Then Blaine could spend a few months at Guantanamo Bay.
He’s got dark skin so there’s probably a warrant out for his
arrest as we speak. Escape from that ‘Modern Day Houdini’. If you
can.
Maybe
Just Stop Now, Yeah?
Self
explanatory. He could maybe have a film crew follow him round while
he does absolutely bugger all. It’d be a vast improvement. Or,
just, do some magic tricks or whatever. They were pretty good. But
don’t do the hand-eye thing, it’s weird and off putting.
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