The result? A waterfall on a phone screen looks like it’s cascading behind the glass. A person waving looks like a tiny ghost trapped inside the device. To the viewer, it genuinely appears to be a 3D hologram.
Just don’t expect to look at your phone the same way again. [End of feature]
If you’ve scrolled through TikTok, Instagram Reels, or YouTube Shorts in the past year, you’ve seen it. A person holds up a smartphone. On the screen is a photo of a lush green forest, a glittering cityscape, or a celebrity. Then, they place a second phone—or a piece of paper with a hole—between the camera and the viewer’s eye. And suddenly, the flat image explodes into a 3D diorama. Trees have depth. Buildings have distance. The celebrity looks like a hologram standing in your living room.
In an era of AI-generated deepfakes and synthetic media, the Halomy prank feels almost nostalgic. It’s handmade. Low-res. It requires a friend to hold a paper tube to their eye and say, “Whoa.”
Here’s how it works in practice: The prankster films a video using only one lens (usually the rear camera of a phone). They then ask a friend to look at the phone’s screen through a small hole—a rolled-up piece of paper, a cutout in a card, or even just a gap between their fingers. When the viewer closes one eye and peeks through the hole, something strange happens. The brain, deprived of binocular depth cues, suddenly interprets the motion of the video (the slight shake of the camera, the panning movement) as real spatial depth .
It’s not magic. It’s not augmented reality. It’s the —and it’s the most delightfully low-tech deception since the thumb-covering-a-quarter trick. The Anatomy of an Illusion To understand the Halomy prank, you first have to understand a quirk of human binocular vision called parallax . Your two eyes see the world from slightly different angles. Your brain merges those two images into one 3D picture. But when you look at a flat phone screen, both eyes see the exact same image—so it looks flat.
Even the original pranksters have mixed feelings. “I never wanted it to become a deception tool,” says a creator who goes by (anonymously, after receiving harassment from copycats). “It’s supposed to be a shared wow moment. Like blowing a kid’s mind with a spoon and a faucet. Not a weapon.” Why We Can’t Look Away Strip away the phones, the hashtags, and the hype, and the Halomy prank is something much older. It’s a camera obscura for the digital age. A reminder that your brain is not a perfect recorder of reality—it’s a storyteller, filling in gaps, creating depth where there is none, believing its own lies.