"Those who don't believe in magic will never find it."

I just picked this one up at the library, so I haven't read it yet, but it's Fooling Houdini: Magicians, Mentalists, Math Geeks, and the Hidden Powers of the Mind, by Alex Stone.

It comes recommended by my cousin Casey, but just in case you've somehow never heard of the founder of Holy Fetch, your one-stop shop for busting or confirming Mormon myths, I'll back his recommendation up with a couple other hipsters you might have heard of.

I'm not always a sucker for blurbs, but when they're written by Steven Levitt of Freakonomics fame, Ira Glass, and John Hodgman? Well my lil' head perks right up.

I'm excited to read it. To quote myself in the comments of my last entry, almost everything I know about the magic industry is from The Prestige and Arrested Development. The writer left a PHD program in physics to become a magician, so he brings some science.

Anyway, let's read it, shall we? It's the perfect palate cleanser after all those hard drugs.

So. Drugs and murder, huh guys? I know what you're thinking, when do I cover Austenland?

In the days since Friday, I haven't made much progress on the books on my list. Well, ok, I finished two of them. Benedict Arnold and Methland are... in the books? That sounds awful.

Anyway, I'm going to get back to Native Son soon, and finish it, and then maybe leave society and all its ills? I haven't decided yet. In the meantime, I need to pick some new books. Since nobody has suggested any yet. HINT HINT. I'M SAYING HINT HINT BECAUSE IF YOU'RE READING THIS YOU SHOULD HAVE SUGGESTIONS. That's the end of the subtle hint portion of this post.

If you're watching Breaking Bad you know two things: The Mexican cartels are very, very scary and Walter Jr. sure loves his cereal.

Also, if you read or are reading Methland, you've learned that a very small minority of Mexican immigrants have taken over American meat-packing plants and have turned them into a drug-smuggling network.

Oh, and if you've known me at essentially any point in the last 2 decades you probably know that I lived for a couple of years in Mexico.

These things have combined, along with a fascination for the name "Ioan," brought me to El Narco. In it, already, there have been many beheadings. You guys sometimes find out how scary life is for some people and then think what the what? Yeah. Me too. By the way, Ioan is pronounced 'yo-an.' So there you go. And "Grillo" is spanish for cricket.

Speaking of drug cartels and callbacks to earlier blog posts, do you remember when I said that in a hypothetical future I could say something about having just read an Elvis Cole book and thinking it was fun? I'M DOING THAT RIGHT NOW. Well, not this instant, but while I'm out working, to get through some of the slower times, I've been listening to Taken, by Robert Crais. If you're into any of the private eye books I've mentioned in the past, Crais' Elvis Cole is one of the greats. You should probably just start at the beginning, though.

And that would be with The Monkey's Raincoat.

OK! So last night I had some crazy fever and hallucinations all night followed by a long day of physically demanding work, so I'm going to lie down.