Magazines and Glamours

Guy just stopped by trying to sell me magazines. So here I am working on a commentary on the Emerald Tablet, and someone is outside my door trying to sell me Sports Illustrated. Ain’t that a nice allegory for — umm, something. The thing is, he didn’t just say “I’m selling magazines.” He said first that he had to go around and introduce himself to his neighbors, which made me think, aha, sexual offender. Then he suggested that perhaps he was looking for two “ugly chicks.” I informed him I was neither ugly nor a “chick.” Then he suggested that he was looking to sell edible underwear. That I didn’t buy for a moment. Finally, he hinted that it was a scavenger hunt. Then, he showed me the catalogue of a lot of magazines I, personally, have little interest in.

Still, while I found him somewhat repugnant in a number of ways, I found myself looking for a way I could please him by buying one of his magazines. A perfect example of a glamour — he made me want to like him, even though I didn’t, and want to fulfill his need to sell magazines, although I couldn’t.

Being a salesman for a few months might be good practice for magic. Makes me wonder: what other jobs can train us in magic?


2 Responses to “Magazines and Glamours”

  1. wlantry Says:

    Your comment today put me in mind of Pound’s The lake Isle, perhaps because of the Emerald Tablet mention combined with the commerce reference. Pasting it here so you don’t open a new google window and get distracted from the commentary…

    The Lake Isle

    O God, O Venus, O Mercury, patron of thieves,
    Give me in due time, I beseech you, a little tobacco-shop,
    With the little bright boxes
    piled up neatly upon the shelves
    And the loose fragrant cavendish
    and the shag,
    And the bright Virginia
    loose under the bright glass cases,
    And a pair of scales not too greasy,
    And the whores dropping in for a word or two in passing,
    For a flip word, and to tidy their hair a bit.

    O God, O Venus, O Mercury, patron of thieves,
    Lend me a little tobacco-shop,
    or install me in any profession
    Save this damn’d profession of writing,
    where one needs one’s brains all the time.

  2. Administrator Says:

    Quite a pity that, instead, Mercury gave him a cage and a charge of treason.

    No matter what else, our lives are better than Pound’s turned out.

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