Once a sad retreat for child molesters, a career as a performing magician is now a scientifically proven
means for your lonely, scrawny, acne-scarred ass to get laid
. Does it work? It should. At Magicopolis, you'll find America's last, most talented practitioners of the art of misdirection, throwbacks to an age of entertainment before simplistic oversharing. So much of the amusement industry now leans on sadism and shadenfreude--Magicopolis is cool because you get to see, not just people acting like bitches, but people more clever than you do stuff you don't have time to learn, and because anything that entertains a five-year-old is entertaining, period. If you think it's hard to break up with your girlfriend on national TV, you've never spent months alone trying to make a nickel disappear. None of these magicians comes off like a cellar-dweller. Magicopolis draws and breeds class acts. See the mainstage show on a Saturday, and stick around for the Bar Show in the front, where post-magician Erik Tait presents standup comedians and rips the bandages off his magic act. All for your entertainment.