UnNews:David Blaine surrounded and attacked by mythical creatures
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20 January 2013
NEW YORK, New York - Magi David Blaine's new stunt has backfired, as the mythical creatures, demons, and flora and fauna of the occult realms he has conjured up while living in the front window of New York's downtown Macy's have surrounded and attacked him unmercifully. During his two-week long "Real Magick" be-in, where passersby can request that he perform various dark arts ceremonies, Blaine has gone without sleep so long that he's made several unforced errors in pronunciation and measurement. For example, when an 11th century Sumerian spell he'd performed many times before called for "eye of newt", he instead used a "thigh made of fruit". And on Friday, while calling forth the dreaded Quiwufid jinn from the sixth realm of Jupiter, when a little girl in the audience sneezed Blaine automatically said "God bless you", a costly mistake.
"I've really screwed the pooch with this one," Blaine told CNN's Anderson Cooper, who ventured into the window for an exclusive interview, almost losing a limb and his sanity in the maelstrom. "If I'd gotten more rest this week I wouldn't have a scorpion attached to my scrotum," Blaine complained. "And just look at what I have to put up with there," he said, pointing to an unhesitant thing hanging at eye level, "it gnaws and growls and freaks me out, man."
The constant buzzing of the circling Isis bees and the soft monkey-like moans coming from Blaine himself have amused the crowd no end. Girls pose against the window taking cell phone pics with Mephistopheles, and the grey dog of Canaan pees on Blaine's leg so consistently that regulars set their watches to it.
At one point yesterday Blaine was literally caught between a Roc and a Hrdplaas, ancient Arabic creatures called forth as a result of a pre-woodland era Inca spell gone wrong (Blaine was actually shooting for Inca-era cookies). "I was doing the dark bidding of a comely young woman who'd been pressing her phone number up against the glass with her tits," Blaine explained, "and before I knew it I was smashed in-between bizzaro heaven and the creep blue sea. These things smelled like Inuit licorice root left out in the sun to rot. Took me the better part of the afternoon to move my hand enough to summon the counter-spell, but that gave us this sweaty centaur crawling up my leg, the tiny goat tangled into my hair, and the peeved micro-midgets attached to my chest with Cupid's own brand of recalled ectoplasm, thank you very much."
Blaine's "the show must go on" attitude, despite the steady circular parade of miniature rams, horses, twins, crabs, lions, and scales that Blaine set in motion during a fit of sneezing, has also aided him in his other projects, including walking across the Grand Canyon on razor blades, living in a cube of ice like a demented Eskimo for four days, and balancing himself on one foot while whistling Dixie for twelve-hours straight within spitting distance of Fukushima reactor number three.
David Blaine will be appearing in Macy's window until 5 p.m. Thursday, and although he is still taking requests to call things up and put things down, his bewitching talent jumped the shark overnight, giving an entirely new meaning to the term "graveyard shift". Onlookers are amused at the spectacle, and their screams can often be heard over Blaine's as the hours tick by.
|This article features first-hand journalism by an UnNews correspondent.|