They speak a peculiar jargon. They call red cloths silks, instead of handkerchiefs.
They call a silver ball Zombie, although it doesn’t look like one that comes straight out of the TV series The Walking Dead.
They claim their threads are invisible even though you can see it, if you watch close enough. Or shine a light on it in darkened restaurants.
They also boast they can move undetected the upper half of a deck of cards to the lower half. They call that maneuver and Invisible Pass, even though your shortsighted grandma can see it without her glasses on.
Taking the lead of famous conjurers of the world, magicians in the Philippines style themselves as “The Amazing”, “The Great”, “The Professor.”
Or they add “dini” to their names, as in Randini or, horror of horrors, Leodini.
Magicians in the Philippines also have preferences that are alike. Like hypnotized cattle, many move as a herd. They profess their love of the same stuff. They perform the same routines. They play the same background music. And they study their magic lessons under the same professor, namely, Mr. YouTube.
As a magician in the Philippines, I pride of these traits. They make me as unique as countless of other magicians.