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Help time with Amil Niazi (™)

By Amil Niazi

Thursday June 18, 2009

Dear Amil,

Help. I like a boy. What do I do?


Dear Twilight fan,

I had no idea that this column appealed to a ‘tween fanbase. But I’m honoured you would turn to me in your pivotal “our bodies, ourselves” years. I just assumed most people with your vocabulary were sexting each other to death and then dry humping like zombies until you were teen-pregnant. Modern times! However, the Dance of Romance TM is complicated regardless of age or emotional maturity. Now, without knowing what you both look like it’s hard for me to truly gauge your potential love connection (barf.) But the illustration below pretty much sums up the courtship process as practiced by humans from Roman times to the present.


Dear Amil,

Recently, I caught one of my friends showing another friend a magic trick at a bar. He was on his way out but I begged him to show me a trick before he left and when he finally conceded, he showed me one of the most amazing tricks I’ve ever seen. He had me hold out my hands, make a fist while he lit a cigarette, had me open my hand, and there were ashes in my left hand. Amil, I don’t remember for sure, and I was a little drunk at the time, but I think the ashes were still a little warm.

Here’s the thing. I love magic. I don’t know how to do any tricks (magicians prefer the term effect) and I don’t read any magazines or books or the whatnot, but my love is real. I watch magic on TV a lot. I’ll pay to see David Copperfield if he comes to town, and in fourth grade, when we had to do a report on great Jews for Hebrew school I chose Houdini over Golda Meir and Steely Dan. So needless to say, I was super bummed. I mean this is the type of trick that only a magician would know, it would not be the only trick in your repertoire. This is a trick that clearly takes a long time to master, and because it involves smoking, means he started practicing in college, outside of the parents’ house, so the whole, I used to do magic in high school excuse is out the window.

I accused my friend of not being a good friend. He accused me of being a moron. I’m not disputing the latter, but I’m still arguing for the former. His arguments against not being a good friend are as follows:

1) He never knew I loved magic.
2) I never asked him to show me magic.

1) This is crazy. Everyone in my group of friends knows I’m the one that loves magic. I had a magician at my fucking twenty-fourth birthday party. And while Mike claimed he didn’t attend – the ridiculousness of having a magician at my birthday party, let alone the awesomeness of the magic itself would have made its way to Mike. In my group of friends you can’t take a shit longer than ten minutes (or shorter than three I guess) without its getting talked about. I once got a phone call in California because I had to be told about an argument my friends got into over whether white chocolate is in fact chocolate. So that’s a bunch of bullshit. Also, this magician who performed at my party also performed magic opening up for the band Cake. In addition to loving magic, my friends make fun of me for listening to Cake, and it came up many times that “my favorite magician opened up for my favorite band.”
2) I never asked, because if you know something that amazing, and you are a friend of mine, I shouldn’t have to ask to see it.

Right now we’re in a big fight. I’m mad at him. I’m willing to drop it all and tell him, I love magic, but I still would like him to acknowledge that in ten years of friendship, I should have known about his talent before a week ago.

What’s the deal?

Dear Sisyphus,

Your letter really speaks to the fragility of human connection. This world is such a cold, dark, hollow and ultimately tragic place and here is your friend, refusing to share with you the warmth of companionship. By not acknowledging your passion for Magik, while simultaneously denying you the gift of illusion, he is only reinforcing the lonely burden of our universal condition, the endless lament, if you will.

JUST KIDDING! Oh my god, what are you even talking about?

How the fuck is your friend supposed to know you are so krazy gay for MAGIC? Granted that birthday party, but as you said yourself he did not even attend. Maybe all he ever heard about that party was that you had a clown at your house and it made everyone very uncomfortable.

Here’s what I know:

1) Your friend has spent many years perfecting the art of putting ASHES IN YOUR HAND
2) If that is the trick he chose to do on you, you should be upset, because gross
3) The reason he probably learned magic in the first place was to perv on women, in which case, the last thing he wants to do is spend time wooing you with his elaborate “rabbit in the pants” trick. He’s like, “Here you fucking go guy, I just put a cigarette out in your hand. Now get outta here, I’ve got sexy moves to make.”

Also, this is totally your friend: