Weight, weight, don’t tell me

I want to go on the David Blaine diet plan. He’s that illusionist who just spent 44 days living in a clear plastic box the size of a walk-in closet suspended over the Thames River in London. He allegedly survived on nothing but plain water that was pumped in through a tube. When he was finally lowered to terra firma, his handlers said he’d lost 60 pounds over the six weeks in plexiglas captivity. Sixty pounds in what measuring system? I watched “Survivor” and saw Richard Hatch and his conniving cohorts gobble down way more than water and shrink away to sinewy masses in less time. I saw how Tom Hank “Castaway-ed” his beefy frame while technically eating bits of soccer ball and raw fish. Trust me, I know weight loss when I see it. The before and after pictures of magician Blaine reveal a man who’s gained a beard, but lost no bulk. The guy isn’t even cutting a six pack. Instead he looked like he’s downed a few. The greatest illusion David Blaine may come to perform is getting anyone to believe that he’d dropped 60 ounces while dangling over the river.

No one saw him eating. He says nothing but clear water passed his lips. I find that hard to swallow. There is speculation that the water was spiked. I hope he wasn’t using one of those steroid concoctions recently banned by the Olympic committee. He could end up with rippled biceps and a big fat subpoena to chew on. Remember too that he’s an illusionist and thus it’s reasonable to assume he’s a sneak eater. While we weren’t looking no doubt he was chowing down on Chinese glass noodles, or cheese sliced thin enough to see through. How else can you explain both his before and after body looking so.. so.. so... before-ish.

Either way, Blaine could trigger a new weight loss trend. Millions of Americans hoisted over local waterways in mega-sized Tupperwear (appropriately burped to lock in freshness) holding out hope that they can lose 3-score pounds by doing nothing. That’ll take a bite out of the gym rats. Now, don’t blame David if your personal results are so.. so.. so... not like his. Clearly he’s proved that the point isn’t much how much fat you lose, but how much flab you can convince the world you’ve lost.

The same sort of principle is at work with a new medical device. It’s called the Gastricpacer. It’s an electrical device similar to a heart pacemaker. It’s implanted in the stomach and it tricks the body into believing it’s just completed a four-hour food orgy at the Buffet Bonanza. Presumably if you’re full you stop eating. Although feeling full has never yet stopped me from double helpings of serotonin saturated Swiss cheese on focaccia bread with a side of fussilli in heavy cream sauce.

The website for this implantable gastric stimulator links you to a website in Italian. Having just returned from Italy where overeating is a tourists obsession the site seemed a cruel joke. While I can’t read a lick of Italian. I think it was about a Doctor who does the implants. It had a picture of the doctor. Like television, website photos tend to give the illusion of a few extra pounds. But, this doctor was so.. so.. so... portly. Physician implant thy-self!

Doctors aren’t sure how the Gastricpacer works - if it deadens the stomach muscles or nerves or digestive hormones. But 66% of those who have it lost 18% of their fat. That’s loads of lard. Once implanted the doctors crank up the implant to trigger cramps, bloating and nausea. Sign me up. Since that’s exactly how I feel once a month anyway, nobody will ever suspect when I get that tiny taser secretly hidden in my tummy making my cellulite melt away. Now, there’s an illusion even David Blaine would be envious of.

www.davidblaine.com
www.gastricpacer.com