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October 19th, 2003

Again: Bagging Out Reality Boy.

it appears as if reality boy magician david blaine has succeeded in his forty four day stunt. in doing so, he has demonstrated a keen awareness of the entertainment fads sweeping through the world, by constructing an illusionary act based upon banality that is identical to watching twenty people sit in a house and discuss their bland sexuality and watch the telly.



"The small transparent container next to Tower Bridge was expected to be lowered to the ground some time after 9:00 pm (2000 GMT) in front of a crowd, organisers of the stunt predicted, of around 250,000 people.

The 30-year-old illusionist was then due to be placed on a stretcher and rushed to a private hospital, where a medical team will assess whether 44 days of drinking only water has permanently affected his heart or other organs.

Blaine, who has suffered severe palpitations and breathing difficulties in recent days, is expected to stay in hospital for some days, and will not be restored to full health for around six months, doctors say.

A nutritional expert tasked with preparing a briefing on restoring Blaine to health warned Sunday that the US entertainer could even die through "re-feeding syndrome" if he ate too fast."

one can only hope that blaine will die. i'm generally labelled as being a nasty and unfriendly sort, which is fine with me, and i'd hate to disappoint folks, so i'll continue in this trend and wish blaine plenty of pain. this is based off the fact that he has sat in a box for forty four days... and that's pretty much it. no causes, no attempts to bring awareness to the men and women starving themselves in protest around the world, no attempts to get himself out of a straight jacket, not one bloody thing of merit done in the box, except that he kept a notebook which i am sure will be available soon from your local bookstore. and worse: you can't even say he did it in isolation, what with the crowds camped out beneath him, the remote controlled helicopters dangling their cheeseburgers, the golf balls cracking off the glass, the eggs splattering, the paint bombs bursting, and the drums punching out their tempos at midnight. psychologically, i am sure that all fueled him.