David Blaine is neither real nor magic

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It just seems very obvious to me that David Blaine is some sort of wizard or alien, sent here from an entirely different realm to infatuate us with magic so as to slow down the process of science.

In Tuesday’s ABC special David Blaine: Real or Magic? the emotionally disaffected…. meta-physicist? robot? serial killer?…. Pod Non-Person blew the minds of celebrities and normals alike. He repaired an eaten piece of a $20 bill with his mouth, rage-puked kerosene he’d swallowed in order to ignite a fire, pulled a string from his eye (NOPE. STOP. CAN’T), and guessed the code to Aaron Paul’s iPhone (bitch!). He’s the craziest creature-thing I’ve ever seen.

And he’s NOT REAL. There’s no need to try and figure out what David Blaine did. He’s just executing the job the non-human life force sent him here to do. There will only ever be one of him. David Blaine has nothing to do with us.

Need proof? David Blaine DOESN’T BLEED.

There he is sticking a long-ass needle through his bicep to the delight and horror of final famous-person ogler Ricky Gervais. Earlier, Blaine had stuck an ice pick through his bloodless “hand” for an incredulous Kanye West (who remained silent for more than 10 seconds, so okay, maybe it’s possible David Blaine really is magic).

“It looks pretty real, right?” Blaine kept asking everyone — because he doesn’t know what “real” means, because David Blaine is not real.

Gervais’ commentary was the closest to my own as I sat there both fascinated and violently repelled:

“Oh, for f—’s sake.”

“F—ing how?”

“…Are you mental?” (Cool Wayne Campbell cameo, bro.)

My favorite moment of the special, though, was when a disinterested Woody Allen (pictured) suddenly perked up. “I just made this malted,” he announced, offering the Visitor the last three or so sips of his own hazy concoction to wash down Blaine’s yummy, momentary snack of live goldfish and a bathtub’s worth of water. Can we just have a two-hour special about Woody Allen making malteds in his house?

Second-favorite: “Get the f— out of my house.” –Harrison Ford, high on life and spreading the word

Did David Blaine’s special freak you out, too? There’s no way he’s real, right? Who or what sent him here?

How the f— did I even start watching this?

I invite your f—ing theories!

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