Well, every now and then we see someone getting turned around and coming back to The Light Side (as opposed to The Dark Side).... Remember those silly "Magneforce" shoes that Florsheim offered to the gullible? It appears that the original owner of this renowned company has bought the firm back, and has announced that they will no longer carry the quack shoes. If I may be forgiven the pun, this is a step in the right direction.

My informant added to this news the wry observation that it is also now somewhat more difficult to board a flight with magnets in your shoes, since 9/11. I can just hear the explanations: "But officer, Florsheim says in their literature that these magnets interact with the natural magnetic poles of the Earth to prevent me from spinning off into space!" Go directly to the loony bin. Do not pass "GO." Do not collect $200.

Ever grateful for rationality in the real world, the JREF congratulates the Florsheim Shoe Company for this decision. But do those who purchased the imbedded magnets for an additional $25, all get refunds, or a complimentary extraction of the magnets....?

I've just returned from London, where I taped a very interesting and important session with the BBC "Horizon" show. In the USA, the Horizon program is often adapted and shown as "NOVA" on the PBS-TV channels. I certainly hope that WGBH-Boston picks this one up. I'm sworn to secrecy, but I can tell you that a large group of fervent believers in a certain aspect of which we've written here frequently, will be seriously annoyed by the findings made at the Royal Society, where we taped the show. And, I can see those eager lawyers perched for action, as well. This should be devastating to the believers, but I've predicted that even this well-derived and convincing data will be ignored, and the flag-waver for this particular nonsense will emerge from the fray still admired and fawned over by the naive.

You'll have to wait until October to see the fur starting to fly....

On the UK visit, I lectured at the University of London, full house, and met many old friends, including mentalist David Berglas. Lots of JREF Forum members were there, as well. Thank you, all, for bearing with my laryngitis.

While in London, I attended a performance of the current D'oyly Carte production of Gilbert & Sullivan's "The Mikado." What a delight, totally unqualified and strongly supported by the evidence. As a result, I've renewed efforts at writing my own lyrics for "They'll None of 'Em Be Missed" and "A More Humane Mikado," of course substituting various psychics and wonder-workers, as the actors in this opera have long done as a tradition. Yes, I relate closely to Ko-Ko....

In the UK, particularly, magician Paul Daniels is a very well-known personality. He's had several TV series there that are of excellent quality and clarity, and a Brit asked to name the "most famous" conjuror is very likely to bring up his name without hesitation. I haven't been in touch with Paul in years now, and just did not have the time to contact him during my recent UK visit. A reader has quoted from an article of a few years ago in which he brought up a matter which is becoming of increasing importance to me and to the JREF:

Daniels strongly approves of James Randi's work. "It's something that really needed to be done. I think in his life he must have done more than anyone has ever done to raise public awareness — certainly in America — among thinking people. The saddest part is that Randi isn't young, and that he isn't on every day doing this, as the audience is changing all the time. It should be taught in school. To me, the works of Randi should be taught alongside the works of Shakespeare because it's as necessary for your quality of life as art or literature." Praise indeed!

Not a day goes by that I'm not reminded of this persistent problem of an heir. There's no solution on the horizon.....!

Reader David Ewalt of New York, NY, writes:

I'm experiencing that sensation unfortunately common to skeptics — simultaneous bemused laughter and tears of woe. Check out the link http://www.local6.com/sh/news/stories/nat-news-159634720020806-090805.html to a story on the web page of WKMG Channel Six, the CBS affiliate in Orlando, Florida. It appears as one of the "top story" links on the site, and presumably appeared on their news broadcast. It's an entirely credulous article about Sasquatch, asserting that as many as 6,000 of the beasts live in North America.

Of course, I'm flummoxed that anyone — even an outlet as chronically stupid as a local TV news team — would write a news story about Bigfoot in this day and age. But what's really galling is that there's not even a sentence suggesting that the things might not exist. The "reporter" even goes so far as to offer viewers some safety tips on what to do should you come across one in the wild! (Can't say I'm particularly worried about that; I'll file those survival techniques right behind the three wishes I've got planned for when I catch my first leprechaun.)

I have emailed the station a letter complaining and pointing them towards your web site, suggesting that in the future before they fall into such a big load of yeti dung they may want to call a reputable source for comment. I don't know if there's anything else to be done to prevent this sort of idiocy, but if nothing else I figured yours is a sympathetic ear to vent about this to!

Keep up the great work and I hope to meet you at the conference next spring!

Going to the site http://www.bfro.net/ which is referred to in the WKMG article, we find excellent examples of the specialized and misleading language used by believers who are trying to establish their notions as fact. For example:

What are the undisputed facts about the bigfoot/sasquatch mystery?

implies that the facts are established. No. An accurate version of that question would be:

What are the disputed statements about the bigfoot/sasquatch mystery?

Continuing:

It's a fact that for more than 400 years people have reported seeing large, hair-covered, man-like animals in the wilderness areas of North America.

Yes. That's a proper statement, correctly constructed. Reports have indeed been appearing. Note: "reports," and not "undisputed," at all.

It is a fact that sightings of these animals continue today. Real or not, these reports are often made by people of unimpeachable character.

Alarm bell.... First, it is the reports that continue, not the "sightings." The difference is paramount here, and the ploy of easily metamorphosing one into the other, is a typical one. And, "people of unimpeachable character" have also reported that I and many other conjurors performed many miracles, over the years, and they were quite wrong. They were not lying, and their character was never in question — yet they were wrong. Their integrity was not a factor; their authority and judgement, were.

Enough. Look at the site and find your own examples of this process. The reporters from WKMG accepted all this as established data, which it is not, and sailed into a naive story that their editor obviously found good enough for the consumers — who were thereby badly served.

Here is the final installment of the account written by Lucian of Samosata — an ancient Greek philosopher — to his friend Celsus. It deals with the history of one Alexander of Abonutichus, a swindler/mountebank of the day who had been exhibiting a combination snake-and-puppet figure of a popular god that seemingly was able to answer questions submitted in sealed packets. Lucian, no fool by any standards, decided that he would entrap the "god," and to that end he handed in questions that he knew would reveal the trick. Part Four:

I must give you one or two of the answers that fell to my share. I asked whether Alexander was bald, and having sealed it publicly with great care, got a night oracle [response] in reply: "Sabardalachu malach Attis was not he." Another time I did up another question — "What was Homer's birthplace?" — the same question in two packets given in under different names. My servant misled [Alexander] by saying, when asked what he had come for, that he sought a cure for lung trouble; so the answer to one packet was: "Cytmide and foam of steed the liniment give." As for the other packet [with the same "Homer" question], he got the false information from the servant that the sender was inquiring whether the land or the sea route to Italy was preferable. So he answered, without much reference to Homer: "Fare not by sea; land-travel meets thy need."

I laid a good many traps of this kind for him; here is another: I asked only one question, but wrote outside the packet in the usual form, So-and-so's eight Queries, giving a fictitious name and sending the eight shillings. Satisfied with the payment of the money and the inscription on the packet, he gave me eight answers to my one question. This was, "When will Alexander's imposture be detected?" The answers concerned nothing in heaven or earth, but were all silly and meaningless together. He afterwards found out about this trap of mine, and also that I had tried to dissuade Rutilianus [a rich believer in Alexander] both from marriage and from putting any confidence in the oracle; so he naturally conceived a violent dislike for me. When Rutilianus once put a question to him about me, the answer was: "Night-haunts and foul debauch are all his joy."

Randi notes: Could it be that even Alexander resorted to character-assassination of his detractors when he could not account for their exposures of the tricks? That technique is not unheard of today, I assure you. The grubbies out there have created rumors that have me involved in a colorful variety of vices — though I've yet to try "night-haunts and foul debauch," I must admit. Is that one vice, or two....? Lucian continues:

It is true his dislike of me was quite justified. On a certain occasion I was passing through Abonutichus with a spearman and a pikeman whom my friend the governor of Cappadocia had lent me as an escort on my way to the sea. Ascertaining that I was the Lucian he knew of, he sent me a very polite and hospitable invitation. I found him with a numerous company; by good luck I had brought my escort. He gave me his hand to kiss according to his usual custom. I took hold of it as if to kiss, but instead bestowed on it a sound bite that must have come near disabling it. The company, who were already offended at my calling him Alexander instead of Prophet, were inclined to throttle and beat me for sacrilege. But he endured the pain like a man, checked their violence, and assured them that he would easily tame me, and illustrate Glycon's [the fake serpent-god] greatness in converting his bitterest foes to friends.

He then dismissed them all, and argued the matter with me: he was perfectly aware of my advice to Rutilianus; why had I treated him so, when I might have been preferred by him to great influence in that quarter? By this time I had realized my dangerous position, and was only too glad to welcome these advances; I presently went my way in all friendship with him. The rapid change wrought in me greatly impressed the observers.

Randi comments: In Los Angeles, years ago, Uri Geller invited me into a dressing-room backstage at a video taping, to have a chat. His approach was much the same. Why, he wondered with wide eyes, was I so antagonistic toward him? I responded that we held quite different views of ethics, that his attitude appeared to be that there were the weak, and the strong, and that the strong should take from the weak. I told him that though his Law of the Jungle might be a winning process, I could not share in it, and felt that if I could inform people of what was much more likely to be true, they could benefit from that action. I left him at that point — though I certainly did not bite, nor did I at all want to bite, his hand.....

When I intended to sail, [Alexander] sent me many parting gifts, and offered to find us (Xenophon and me, that is; I had sent my father and family on to Amastris) a ship and crew — which offer I accepted in all confidence. When the passage was half over, I observed the ship's master in tears arguing with his men, which made me very uneasy. It turned out that Alexander's orders were to seize us and fling us overboard; in that case his war with me would have been lightly won. But the crew were prevailed upon by the master's tears to do us no harm. "I am sixty years old, as you can see," he said to me; "I have lived an honest blameless life so far, and I should not like at my time of life, with a wife and children too, to stain my hands with blood." And with that preface he informed us what we were there for, and what Alexander had told him to do.

He landed us at Aegiali, of Homeric fame, and thence sailed home. Some Bosphoran envoys happened to be passing, on their way to Bithynia with the annual tribute from their king Eupator. They listened kindly to my account of our dangerous situation, I was taken on board, and reached Amastris safely after my narrow escape. From that time it was war between Alexander and me, and I left no stone unturned to get my revenge. Even before his plot I had hated him, revolted by his abominable practices, and I now busied myself with the attempt to expose him; I found plenty of allies, especially in the circle of Timocrates, the Heracleot philosopher. But Avitus, the then governor of Bithynia and Pontus, restrained me, I may almost say with prayers and entreaties. He could not possibly spoil his relations with Rutilianus, he said, by punishing the man, even if he could get clear evidence against him.

Thus arrested in my course, I did not persist in what must have been, considering the disposition of the judge, a fruitless prosecution. Among instances of Alexander's presumption, a high place must be given to his petition to the Emperor: the name of Abonutichus was to be changed to Ionopolis; and a new coin was to be struck, with a representation on the obverse of Glycon, and, on the reverse, Alexander bearing the garlands proper to his paternal grandfather Asclepius, and the famous scimitar of his maternal ancestor Perseus. He stated in an oracle that he was destined to live to a hundred and fifty, and then to die by a thunderbolt; he had in fact, before he reached seventy, an end very sad for a son of Podalirius, his leg mortifying from foot to groin and being eaten of worms; it then proved that he was bald, as he was forced by pain to let the doctors make cooling applications to his head, which they could not do without removing his wig.

So ended Alexander's heroics; such was the catastrophe of his tragedy; one would like to find a special providence in it, though doubtless chance must have the credit. His funeral celebration was worthy of his life, taking the form of a contest — for possession of the oracle. The most prominent of the impostors among his accomplices referred it to Rutilianus' arbitration which of them should be selected to succeed to the prophetic office and wear the hierophantic oracular garland. Among these was numbered the gray-haired physician Paetus, dishonoring equally his gray hairs and his profession. But Steward-of-the-Games Rutilianus sent them about their business ungarlanded, and continued the defunct Alexander in possession of his holy office.

My object, dear friend, in making this small selection from a great mass of material, has been twofold. First, I was willing to oblige a friend and comrade who is for me the pattern of wisdom, sincerity, good humor, justice, tranquillity, and geniality. But secondly I was still more concerned (a preference which you may be far from resenting) to strike a blow for Epicurus, that great man whose holiness and divinity of nature were not shams, who alone had and imparted true insight into the good, and who brought deliverance to all that consorted with him. Yet I think causal readers, too, may find my essay not unserviceable, since it is not only destructive, but for men of sense, constructive also.

Thus endeth the saga of an ancient scallywag, with its obvious parallels to so many of those who succeeded him. I must thank reader Adela Torres of Corvallis, Oregon, for bringing Lucian to my renewed attention. Never met the man, but wish I could have....

Guess what? The powers of the now-discredited Thomas Green Morton, of Brazil, seem to be even poorer than we'd suspected. He showed up, unannounced, at the door of the JREF while I was away on the other side of the world, saying that he wanted to discuss matters with me. Well, the only matter I'll discuss with him, is the test he promised to do, and that's obviously not on his mind. He stayed around a while, then gave up. But before he really went away, he emptied a bottle of cheap shaving-lotion on the gate to the JREF. You see, that's one of the "miracles" he specializes in, making perfume materialize. With the unwitting assistance of K-Mart, in this case. A fact that also escaped his wondrous powers, was that a camera crew from GLOBO-TV caught him in the act.

Film at 11.

Dr. Elizabeth Targ was the daughter of Dr. Russell Targ, one of the two scientists who brought Uri Geller to the attention of the world. A respected researcher and psychiatry professor at the California Pacific Medical Center in San Francisco, she was funded by the National Institutes of Health on a project to look into the possible role of a mind-body-spirit connection involved in medical healing. Dr. Targ died last week of glioblastoma, a rare brain tumor, while conducting a 5-year-old study into the efficacy of prayer on patients with the same rare cancer. She was 41.

The entry for this week is a bit short, I admit. Sorry. I've also been quite discomfited by a bad throat and lots of jet travel. Next week.....