The Strange daughters were squabbling the other day.

“It’s not FAIRRRR! She’s got more sweets than me”

“It’s not FAIRRRR! Her sweets are bigger than mine”

“Why don’t you swap”

“NOOOOO! I don’t like her sweets”

“Why don’t I eat the extra one, then it would surely be OK”

“NOOOO! You can’t have any. That wouldn’t be FAIIIIIIIIRRRRR”


Now, close up magic is good for weddings, proms, birthdays, works parties etc. It also has its uses in placating conflict.


It took the extra Haribo (a tangfastic as it happens. My personal favourite) and vanished it. You know, made it disappear. It actually worked. The disparity of confectionery now eased, the squabbling stopped, and they happy filled their faces with wholesome sugary goodness.


(Obviously I didn’t really vanish it. I pretended to put it in my left hand, and during the misdirection of squeezing the “sweet” tightly, I swallowed the sour little scamp. Whole. It was a quite satisfying bit of trickery. And I got a sweet.)


Anyway, this got me thinking. If close up magic can placate warring siblings, can it heal the shitstorm that is the UK in 2019?


What do you mean you hadn’t noticed?


The Leavers hate the Remainers. The older generation hate the younger generation. And vice versa. Gammons hate Snowflakes. Neo Nazis hate anti Nazis. Motorists hate cyclists. Everyone apart from MPs seems to hate MPs. Arguments rage everywhere. It’s hard to get around the thought that come Brexit – and our self imposed poverty – we’ll be living in some post apocalyptic society, thrown into a civil war of extreme factions battling each other. Their only common feature being the intense hatred they feel for each other. Millennials hurling avocados at the leavers who bat them away with their zimmer frames. Gammons taunting the snowflakes. Snowflakes struggling to comprehend the poor grammar, punctuation and diction of the Gammons.


There’ll be fights. There’ll be untold outpourings of unbridled rage. There’ll be barbecuing rats over tea lights and a booming black market in toilet roll.


Yeah, I know what you’re thinking.


Magic might distract a couple of kids with one too many sweets, but it’s never going to to reunite a nation torn apart. A nation that has shot itself in the groin while the world looks on bewildered.

You’re right. We’re way past that. I’m not bad at tricks, but this is going to take freaking Dumbledore to fix.


However, magic is a good distraction.


And while I’m distracting people, they can briefly, just for a moment, forget the crazy omnishambles going on around them and enjoy a brief child-like moment of awe and wonder.


And while they’re distracted, my daughters can sneak around behind them and steal their rats.