There is a reason why career advisor's never suggest being tied into a straight-jacketed and lowered into a shark tank wearing trousers made from pork chops but despite coming up with ideas that always began with me thinking 'let's see if this will kill me', i hardly ever injured myself. I was shackled and buried under six feet of dirt but the earth was too heavy and i couldn't breath so managed to poke my hand through like i was in a zombie flick before passing out and my assistants pulled me out but that was about as close as i came to dying.
I started out performing card tricks and simple illusions but i wasn't very good at it so began escaping from handcuffs and the tricks got more and more elaborate and before i knew it i was upside down in a tank of water but there was no great secret to my escapes, in many cases, i would have access to a key secreted in my hair. What, you thought i wore that weird centre parting as a fashion statement?
For a few years, i used trap doors in my illusions, it was just a stage i was going through. Yeah, i wasn't a very good comedian either.
While i fooled people, i took serious the “spiritualists” who claimed they could put people in contact with their dead loved ones and i had a huge bust-up with Arthur Conan Doyle but my death was a real punch in the gut, mainly because it came about due to a real punch in the guts.
After a show in Montreal, Canada, a punk kid wanted to test the claim that i could take a punch in the stomach unharmed and the snotty kid ran up and punched me in the belly, rupturing my appendix.
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