Blaine's encounter with the British public appears to have been his first ever encounter with sustained derision. After two days in which the magician came under assault from fish and chips, eggs, golf balls, laser pens, wake-up calls from bhangra drums and women displaying their breasts, a spokesman for Sky television, which has bought the rights to this stunt, regretted that not everyone had been "respectful to the challenge"...
… on telly, a wide-eyed Nicky Campbell had referred repeatedly to "solitary confinement". Blaine had also stressed a desire for "no distractions... I think that's the purest state you could be in... " In practice, he has made his lit-up box the pinnacle of a non-stop party. Passing riverboats and vans tootle jolly hellos at him. Women wave. Spectators guffaw more or less in his face, shout at him to "put the kettle on", mime flying with their arms, threaten to come back with signs reading: "Are you mental or what?" When, laboriously, Blaine wraps a sheet round himself and makes as if to wee into a hidden tube, there are uproarious shouts of, "He's having a piss!"; then, "He can't still be having a piss"; then, "No - he's wanking!"; then - after the business is seemingly complete - hearty cheers and applause.
Awww. It makes me feel all patriotic.
:::hums "Land of Hope and Glory" à la Last Night of the Proms:::