I’m actually rather grateful for questions when they come in, because I haven’t had to deal with writer’s block in weeks. They’re prompts and they give the entries some structure. Even if they’re talking about painful stuff. Don’t think that’s all the blog has become, though. I have actually been working on a few new posts, including a couple of new Spoilerific reviews. But in the meantime…
"Questions, questions, too many questions. You want a shard? Here."
Maybe we can start here: The most personal insult from BoE/Tentmoot for ME was the bit with Air New Zealand and the celebrity airfares. I’d like to know what your perception was of that whole bit. What did “Jordan” tell you regarding the plans/finances for bringing all those Kiwis across the Pacific Ocean? Were you told, for example, that tickets to Tentmoot were selling like hotcakes and there was plenty of money to spend on bringing celebrities to the event? When everything crashed, what story did “Jordan” give you, explaining why there was “suddenly” no airfare?
You’re right, that’s a hell of an icebreaker! May as well plunge in headfirst to one of the worst weeks I’ve gone through. But I’ll have to back up to the planning stages of Tentmoot before we get to the airfare…debacle? Scam? Bullshit? Whatever you want to call it?
The idea for Tentmoot came directly on the heels of the first Line Party, way back at The Two Towers. That event was a success – inasmuch as it wasn’t a big enough event to fuck up. We still managed to fuck up parts – the tent almost blew away, the radio promos never happened (because Andy creeped out the DJ’s), the trivia questions got lost…okay, in retrospect, it was kind of a failure. But nothing bad happened, and people had a blast. And we made a bunch of friends.
The OG Crew from the Line Party. It really WAS a fun night.
Then Project Elanor happened (guess what’s going in a different post? Yep.) and it was a success inasmuch as Sean Astin really showed up, the garden got built, etc. People were excited and interested in other events. So Andy came up with a list of other events to do, all in one year. With no experience. And no idea how to do them. The Lost Palantir Film Festival, the Hall of Fire Music Festival…yeah, those are separate posts too. And I wasn’t even really involved in Hall of Fire, so I might not have much information for that one.
The Rocky Horror Ringer Show was an impulsive event, so I'm not including it here.
Once we’d relocated to LA, things were really hopping in planning Tentmoot. We each had our own “jobs” to do, but mine were surprisingly low-level. Andy made a big deal of keeping me out of a lot of it. At least, a big deal to me. I was the mouthpiece on a regular basis; giving speeches he had prepared for me. I prepared and gave presentations about things. But my job? Was taking care of Andy (and all of the Others).
"Constant" isn't just the job title, it's the amount of work required.
I don’t really remember how we got the convention center. I do still have all the contracts, and our original proposal to Regal Cinema. Initially, it was just supposed to be a massive line party, but at some point it became a CONVENTION. I honestly can’t remember how, even reading through old documents. It’s kind of a blur. I do remember a “meeting” that happened on our porch in San Dimas – Bob, Sam, Diamond, Andy, Me and Sue. We discussed if we thought we could really pull things off – tickets weren’t selling yet and numerous problems were starting to pop up. Andy was relentlessly determined to make it work. I remember I wasn’t sure but I went along with him (which is the short form for about 80% of my life with him). I don’t remember what everyone else thought, but I do know we all agreed to push ahead.
One of the promotional fliers we handed out in Portland. Click to enlarge.
All along, “Airfare for Kiwis” had been Andy’s job. (That, and talking to the agents of the Celebrity Guests. He didn’t talk to the actual celebrities – that was my job. My bribe, really. That, and how huge it would make Bit of Earth if we could pull this off. But I digress.) He said he and…either Bob or Diamond, I can’t remember…had the airfare donated. Ticket sales were deliberately kept from me too; I was incredibly, increasingly anxious during this time. I’ve discussed my untreated depression and anxiety, which led me into Andy’s arms to begin with. When we lost my house I was crippled by it. Now that Tentmoot was getting close, I was getting frantic. All the while, Andy kept reassuring me. Tickets were selling. Everything was fine.
It's cool man. It's all cool.
Then one day early in December, Andy came to me and said the Airfare donation had “fallen through.” I was panicked, but he told me that he and Jeanine were working on an alternate plan, and that Jeanine was talking to a travel agent friend of hers. I was still worried, but he was adamant that things would be fine and I was not to fret. There was so much going on as things got close that I didn’t really see any alternatives.
REALLY IT'S ALL TOTALLY FINE
The explanation Andy gave me for why the donation had fallen through was the same one he gave Jeanine; there was a donation from Air New Zealand, but they reneged due to increasing tourism to NZ because of Lord of the Rings. I was staying calm, and then Andy hit me with another shock: in order to “verify” the tickets, we had to come up with a credit card (with a limit greater than or equal to) the amount we needed. It was all frantic at that point. He swore that it wasn’t to charge the cards; it was just to secure the tickets, and then the actual money would come out of ticket sales.
Wait...really?
Our only choice was to call around for volunteers to finance it. I fought against it, hard. I hate using the phone and the idea of calling everyone I knew to beg for their credit card numbers was humiliating and hideous. I don’t remember all the people I called. I know he made me call my mother and my father, despite my (correct) protestations that they would never, ever, ever help us in this. He made me call any friends I could think of, plus I had a list of people who had worked with Bit of Earth previously to pester. I was horrified, but I obeyed. That afternoon is a literal blur of panic and shame. Between calls, Andy was alternately reassuring and threatening me that everything hung on my shoulders at that moment.
This was a reccurent theme.
I am sorry that my memories of that afternoon and the next day are not clearer, because that doesn’t help things. I do remember that he stopped me at some point, smiling victoriously. He told me Jeanine had volunteered her own card and paid for $15,000 in airfare. It wouldn’t get everyone there (and guess who got to handle canceling people’s appearances? That? Was also not fun at all) but it would allow the convention to happen. I was horrified. I could not believe that Jeanine had done that. One of the few things I do remember was begging Andy to stop her from charging it herself. I had a seriously bad gut feeling about the whole thing, but again, my concerns were irrelevant to him. Everything was going along fine now. According to Andy.
Yup.
There wasn’t a lot of time between that day and the day we were supposed to leave for Oregon. According to the few old emails I have, the frantic calling was on December 7, and we were supposed to leave for Tentmoot on the 9th. We had become friendly with our neighbor in San Dimas, and because our apartment was a crazed mess of packing and preparations, I went next door to take a nap before that long drive. Bob and Sue had left earlier in the week. Everything was finally coming together. For the first time in days, I relaxed. And slept.
I was this exhausted.
It wasn’t the first time I was awakened by trauma. Eventually I developed a phobia of napping, because when I’d let my guard down, bad shit would happen. I don’t remember who shook me awake, but Diamond and Little Sam were frantic. Andy had locked himself in the bathroom. They’d pried the door open with a screwdriver. That was when I got there. And there on the floor was Andy, apparently unconscious next to a pool of vomit that was mostly made up of pills. There was a note; it said that Jeanine had canceled the airline tickets, Tentmoot had fallen apart, and he was sorry. Someone had already called 911. I was beyond destroyed. I was in total shock, at a level that I wouldn’t experience again until we were stranded on the Canadian border.
This is bettert than a picture of a pool of vomit.
We went to the hospital after the ambulance took Andy away (as he fought and begged the EMT’s not to take him). I remember seeing him in that hospital bed, pitiful and sad-eyed, with charcoal residue around his mouth. They’d pumped his stomach, in case he had taken more pills than he had admitted to. He said they were going to put him in a facility for a mandatory 48-hour lockup. He said he couldn’t “bring” anyone to reassure me. I was allowed to be there when they checked him in to the facility, and I remember taking great pains to ensure that he was respectfully treated in regard to his gender. I went home to a house where two other women were just as shocked and destroyed as I was. I don’t remember much of that night, except that I’m pretty sure the three of us slept in a heap, clinging to each other for strength.
It was a bad night.
Of course, with Andy in the hospital for 48 hours, it was entirely on Diamond’s an my shoulders to deal with the fallout. I remember many, many phone calls and emails. To everyone. All of whom were furious. Resignations from nearly every single person who had worked with Bit of Earth filled my inbox. Bob was enraged. Jeanine was interrogating us and sending us documentation proving that there had never been a donation. Seeing proof that Andy had lied was the worst of all; it shook all three of us to the core. None of us could figure out what to believe. We were completely lost without Andy’s leadership, and were unable to comprehend (or cope with) his lies.
I cannot describe how terrifying it was to really question his reality.
In retrospect, it was a completely transparent move on Andy’s part. He was undoubtedly feigning unconsciousness. There weren’t any medications that were likely to be fatal in our medicine cabinet – he had mostly taken NyQuil Liquicaps, Advil and multivitamins. Further, the pills were all intact – none had even lost their shape. It is interesting that he did not take Tylenol (which, with its higher concentration of acetaminophen than NyQuil, carries a higher risk of lasting ill effects), even though the NyQuil Liquicaps were blister-packaged and the Tylenol was not. His dad was a firefighter, and I do know that he taught Andy about first aid, emergency protocol. Andy’s father and I once had a friendly conversation about a national kids safety program we’d both participated in. But I digress.
He most likely took several handfuls of the (effectively nonlethal) pills and immediately made himself vomit – Andy regularly made himself vomit, usually for dramatic effect. Then it was just a matter of lying still on the floor while we screamed and begged him to wake up, until the EMT’s “revived” him. And viola, he didn’t have to deal with the immediate, terrible fallout. He had 48 hours to just relax – he was always his usual slick salesman self, spinning the situation to us on every visit (we went as much as was allowed). He was even allowed to smoke.
Do you have any fucking idea how badly I want a cigarette right now?
When we visited him in the hospital, he said he’d “panicked and snapped” because he was so hurt and devastated. He maintained that he had gotten a donation that really did fall through, all the way up until after the next core switch. At that point, it became my fault, because I had “pushed Jordan so far” and he had been so terribly desperate to please me. Ultimately it was chalked up as one of the many failings of a previous core – Andy always, always badmouthed whoever he had “been” before. But again I digress. He was completely happy and at ease when we saw him, full of promises that everything would be just fine.
All good!
Maybe Diamond, Little Sam and I would have realized how much he was lying to us if it things hadn’t taken another crazy turn. Maybe we would have had a chance to process, and maybe, without distraction, he wouldn’t have convinced us that he was still telling the truth. But that was about when we found out that three actors from Lord of the Rings were currently stranded at LAX with no tickets either to go to Portland or back to New Zealand.
And none too pleased about it.
To be continued…
This post was edited August 4, 2014
Out of Context 
Oy. OK, just a few notes….I was not the one working on airfare with him. My job for Tentmoot was getting & scheduling volunteers to staff various game rooms, panels, etc. I was also setting up the White Tower Cafe, but I think we ended up scrapping that idea. THAT was too much work (getting the cart, the health permits, my Oregon food handler’s card – since I’d already worked in food service for a long time, I wasn’t going to cut corners on this). I still remember coming up with drink names – Red Eye of Sauron, Pippin’s Spiced Cider, Legolas Lattes (almond/hazelnut), White Tower Mochas…it was fun, and pretty clever, I thought. But I digress…I was working at a cafe pretty much from day 1 in San Dimas, so I wasn’t home a whole lot during the preparations. My part had nothing to do with making phone calls, so it worked with my schedule pretty well.
And yes, I do seem to remember sleeping in a heap that night. That was an awful awful time. His suicide note left Little Sam in charge of taking care of Abbey. Sam was what, 15? I was PISSED!!!! And the note had no mention of me, from what I recall, and a “poem” written about it a year later says the same. Take it for what it’s worth. That really hurt, you know? Of course, I didn’t know about The Others yet, so it makes a little more sense, if anything Jordan did made sense.
Oh. Maybe it was Bob, or maybe he was lying about that, too. Whatever it took to shut me up at that time.
I still have the menu for the White Tower Cafe, actually. I tried to upload a picture of it to this comment but it wouldn’t work right. It’s here.
It’s amazing how much detail went into the ideas Andy had, but with so little actual knowledge. The bands and the cafe are two perfect examples. He never considered for a second how much work is needed for a concert to go on and seemed floored by all that was needed for a coffee cart.
I couldn’t remember if it was right before or right after the explosion of TentMoot that you “figured out” about the Mindhole. I know it was close to there. I remember it was in the van, driving back to or from Portland. Because I remember pulling over to smoke a cigarette or three. This was before you started smoking, when we couldn’t just light up in the car…
Sigh. This whole thing just depresses me. Speaking of coffee, I’m going to pour myself another cup.
OK, some of those I def. don’t remember – like Bilbo’s bday surprise. I think Jordan did some tinkering, but I do have to give him props for creativity. Don’t think I ever saw this write up before.
I “figured out” the mindhole in January, on the way to or from court – I think it was on the way to. I was smoking (started @ Sue’s house the last time I saw my bff’s family, just before we moved to Salem. I don’t remember why, but I don’t think we smoked in the car much.
Guh. But you know what, I am better for this. I am a better critical thinker. I am more detailed oriented. Do my own research. Stronger. Faster….oh…wait….
Good gravy, what a freaking nightmare scenario! D:
Timing is everything. I’ll bet you’re right – if you’d had even a day to talk to each other, digest all the contradictory information, and think clearly on your own for a bit, it would have dawned on all three of you that something was seriously amiss. You might have gotten away then. He had the luck of it, didn’t he?
I have to say that the ideas, the vision if you want to call it that, were good; the execution that sucked. One wonders if Andrew ever thought past how to stop you from questioning what he was doing in the moment; just keep the con going as long as possible. It would have been great to see what Bit of Earth might have accomplished with a different person at the helm.
“like”
Interesting. So you, also, got the story that there was money to pay for everything, “hundreds of tickets sold online,” etc. Well, that makes sense–why would “Andy” (who was “Jordan” at that time) tell you the truth, when that lie was working so well on so many of us?
I’m glad you were able to describe so eloquently the shame and discomfort associated with your “big ask.” I think there’s an important teaching point here, for everyone reading this blog:
When you are working for an organization that asks you to make cold calls, or engage in any other fund-raising activity, and you feel horror and shame, TRUST YOUR GUT, and DON’T DO IT. You might feel nervous and a little sheepish at the thought of hitting up strangers for money. That’s normal. But you should also feel that you’re doing an awkward thing for a cause you believe in. You should feel strongly that your charity is doing good things and deserves this money. Those feelings of a Greater Good should outweigh the discomfort of “hitting up” strangers.
If the shame aspect feels stronger than the Greater Good aspect, then you should either hang out more, volunteering and looking around, until you change your mind… or you should get out and find a charity that DOES make you feel those things.
What you should NOT do is get on the phone, or online, or wherever, and give people The Big Ask. NO legitimate charity expects ANY volunteer to do something that feels shameful and horrifying. Stage fright, maybe–but what Abbey described: NEVER.
For that matter, a legit charity should never get into an immediate, overwhelming, and “everything will fail unless YOU come through for us” situation. Only if there’s a bona fide disaster (I’m talking fire, tornado, lightning strike) should a legit charity have an immediate need for cash. I’ve been doing REAL nonprofits for years now, in fact I’m currently procrastinating on 7 different grants I’m supposed to be writing, in order to comment here. Real charities make plans, and proceed toward goals that are within their reach. They may want to grow and do more, but they don’t blow themselves out of the water by overspending themselves and then begging for make-up funds. That is a sign of poor organization, poor focus, and a poor ability to fulfill their charitable mission. Needing money is normal for a charity. Being unable to continue without an immediate, large infusion is NOT normal for a charity.
I wish, Abbey, that you’d been able to call me (or Poppy, or anyone) and talk about what “Andy” had asked you to do, and how it made you feel. “Andy” basically told me that getting the credit card donations was no big deal at all, you had plenty of people to call and were looking forward to it. And of course, we would have caught “Andy” right away in at least one lie: namely that the cards were not being charged, just “holding” tickets.
I wonder… If you and I talked, before you started those cold calls, and I’d said, “Whoa, hang on–what do you mean the cards won’t be charged? They certainly will! What’s this ‘verify the tickets’ crap?” What would you have done? Would that have been enough of a challenge to your beliefs in “Andy?” Or were you already too indoctrinated?
Obviously there was Much Drama when things went down–I was hysterical over the specter of having to pay $15,000 in airfare, and you had two angry celebrities stuck in your house, and “Jordan” was in the locked ward. I think you kinda trenched in hard, to get through that period.
But what if it had ended two days earlier, with you and I talking on the phone and realizing “Andy” had been playing us? I would have been angry, but mainly with “Andy.” Tentmoot would have gone down with a whimper, not an implosion. Everyone would have had a couple of extra days to recover from the surprise. We probably could have fixed up someplace nice for J and T to get married, in lieu of Tentmoot Fail. Things would have been very different. My question is: do you think that catching “Jordan” in a flagrant lie–WITHOUT all the added drama–would have been enough to break your faith in “Andy?”
I mean, you already knew “Jordan” was telling lies to people like me–“Jordan” even had you participate in them. But did you realize “Jordan” was also lying to you as well? If not… do you think that catching “Jordan” in a lie in that way would have made a difference?
I don’t know. I think he probably could have talked his way out of it; he would have made me think that I had misunderstood. Or perhaps he would have just used guilt – which is how he ultimately dodged responsibility. It was my fault, I had asked for the moon and was so terrible to him if he didn’t get it for me. Which wasn’t true – all of the events were Andy’s idea. Except for The Rocky Horror Ringer Show. That one was MINE and I loved every goddamn minute of it. But really, its very hard to guess. And no, I did not think he was also lying to me about the events. Until he came to me and said Oh hey, I lied, things are actually fucked, but it’s ok, here’s how you’re going to fix it. (not a direct quote)
But what if it had ended two days earlier, with you and I talking on the phone and realizing “Andy” had been playing us? I would have been angry, but mainly with “Andy.”
It’s a rough call. I hope this won’t sound hostile, because there isn’t any behind it. But when we were first talking, right after the fake suicide attempt, I was doubting his word, directly because of what you were saying. But I was already afraid of you after the Big Identity Explosion. That was still pretty fresh and raw – you weren’t shy about expressing your rage (nor should you have been, don’t get me wrong). And then you got so angry, and decided that I was lying to cover for him. You had reasons, again, don’t get me wrong. It’s so hard to know; the aggravating factor of having the Kiwi actors involved upped the ante so spectacularly that it’s hard to even guess. I really, really, really, really wish that anyone had figured this out before the Kiwis got on the plane. Not that the money doesn’t matter, but Jeeezus.
Yes and no. Catching him in a flagrant (but simple) lie was the straw that broke the camel’s back in Virginia, when I finally left. But I had to be ready to see that lie and understand what that lie signified – that he was a lying liar who lies, not just someone who told a single, stupid untruth. I doubted very seriously that day, like I said above, but I think I was probably in too deep by then.
*nods* I think that’s the part everyone gets frustrated with, right there. Once you’ve gotten pulled in, It’s not enough to catch a charismatic sociopath in a lie. You have to be READY to catch them in the lie. You have to have become fed up enough with all Teh Crazee that you flat out Will Not Accept another piece of bull puckey… and when that last one comes, you’re done.
You’re right–“Jordan” probably would have backpedaled out of the situation, if it weren’t for all the Major Drama. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time “Jordan” recovered from being caught in a lie during the BoE days. I’m sure “Jordan” would have ostracized me from the group, booted me off the message board, blamed me for everything–and I probably would have been miffed and hurt, but would’ve thrown my hands up in disgust and walked away. Sue, Jason, and your other housemates might have been none the wiser. Neither would Sean Astin. In the end, “Jordan” might have been able to move on to pull everyone into something worse… something like what happened in Fairfield.
I just want to quickly apologize from posting this here, this is being written after the rest of this post, but it got long, so I felt I should apologize.
I never worked on getting donations for travel. I had to deal with bands, setting up sound and lighting with the convention center, and speaking with various people managers. I have a lot of crap that I’ve kept from most people but Sue regarding Tentmoot, mostly how early we found out about things. I was surprised to find out when I called the ticket vendor that I had access to all the information that I wanted about ticket sales as my name was one of the names listed on the account and that I had helped set it up. Wow, that was a shock, even more of a shock was finding out, after hearing we had already sold bunches and bunches of tickets that we had sold six tickets and that a couple of those were to a band called the Forgotten Celts that were appearing at the convention. My first thought was to cancel the account and fold up everything right there, but that would have been a bit obvious and instead I just cancelled all the bands save for the Black Seeds. I refunded Gwyddion from the Celts ticket purchase myself. The Black Seeds… THAT was a disaster… The Black Seeds dub, funk afrobeat group from Wellington, NZ who’s only notable characteristic was that they counted as a member Bret McKenzie. I objected vigorously to this band. I argued that if we were going to have a group come up that featured Bret McKenzie that we should try for Flight of the Conchords, they were funny, and, as a bonus, there were only two of them, as opposed to 9 Seeds… But Jordan assured me that the Conchords were no longer performing (Not only did I learn that this wasn’t true, but they eventually became HUGE hits here in America). So after talking to Matt McLeod, the Seeds many times, and the convention center many MORE times, we eventually worked out what the Seeds would need to perform, for which the Convention Center quoted us $13,344.54, and gave us a 45% discount, making it $9,203.13. Obviously I knew this wasn’t going to work, but I brought it to Jordan and got a “No Problem, the ticket sales alone will cover it!” And he ok’d the expense. Or rather I did, only I wasn’t the one that sent THAT email… Though I did get a response that sure LOOKED like I had sent that email…. Oh well… Seems to be a lot of stuff I signed off on that I never ACTUALLY signed off on… Fortunately the Black Seeds were one of the groups that got cancelled when the whole no airfare thing happened.
My trip home… my flight home had me stopping off in SFO briefly on the way to PDX. At SFO I called back to the house in San Dimas and was assured everything was fine, everyone was fine and it was all coming together well. I land in PDX and suddenly I can’t get ahold of anyone. A couple hours later I talk to someone at home (can’t remember who, its at this point that I started really seeing red) and they told me that Jordan had taken an overdose of something in the house and tried to kill himself. That he had left a note that said it was because Tentmoot fell apart, and blah blah blah… Firstly, we had very few pills in the house, mostly aspirin and advil, I believe, and second, I knew for a fact that Tentmoot had not fallen apart, as it was never together. This was an event that was NEVER going to happen, there was NO way that it could have. At best it would have lasted an hour before we got booted from the convention center. One thing that you need to know about me before this next sentence, I have tried to commit suicide on 5 separate occasions, and, just prior to us moving to LA, my father killed himself overdosing on morphine, so I do NOT take the idea of suicide lightly, and I do NOT take people faking it for attention well, and that is exactly what I knew it was in this case. I told BoE that I resigned at that moment, that I never wanted to hear about this again, and that they made me sick. To the people that had been my best and nearly only friends for a year.
All the time that we lived in Salem and then later San Dimas I spent dropping hints to Sam and Di, as loudly as I could. I insisted that Sam go with us to meet my friend Brandon who, well, you think hobbit channeling is crazy… You haven’t seen anything like this shit… He has VOLUMES, thousands upon thousands of and written pages detailing “our” pasts. To him I am a Werewolf king from the planet Wolvaria, that united the Garou and the true blooded Werewolves in a many years long and bloody battle. You see, before I even met Jordan, I’d lived with this sort of crazy, had participated in this sort of crazy since I was 15. The lies, the need to be followed, almost worshiped… It all was very familiar. And so I insisted we take Sam there, on the pretense that he, as a designer, could design our clothes for the Return of the King premier (yet another FUCKED up story that can wait). I had hoped that some exposure to what can happen after nearly 15 years of this crazy can do to a person. I even made blatant jokes to her about how he now thought he was an elf and was searching for his husband Legolas and how insane that was. I had thought that Di might be too intelligent to be duped, but in retrospect, knowing that she had just renounced the church of her parents and, to some extent, their god as well, she was in the perfect place to be recruited. Without proper deprogramming, it is easy for one to float from one cult to another. I tried the tack with her of subtly hinting that we were being lied to, but nothing stuck. With either of them. I’ve always had that big brother, need to protect everyone complex, and I’d felt I’d failed miserably on this occasion, and when the time came to leave I felt horrible that I hadn’t and couldn’t do more to get them out of there. Abbey, whom I did love and still do love with all my heart, I had thought of as a lost cause, that she was so deeply entrenched in the madness that nothing I could do could help her, that if she were to ever get out it would have to be on her own terms. But Sam and Di… I beat myself up for years for leaving them alone down there. I know “saving” them was not my responsibility, and that nothing about the situation was my fault, but at the time it sure felt like it.
You know, this is getting long, so I’ll end it here and post again on another post sometime.
Fascinating stuff, and – mind-boggling.
This isn’t the place for it, probably, but will you please give a thumbnail sketch of the whole ‘Mindhole’ thing when you get an opportunity? I’ve never seen that term before, and I get the feeling that it’s very integral to the whole control thing.
Thanks again.
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