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Accidental Initiations (in the Kabbalistic Tree of Olympia) by Andras Jones

Book review: Dr. Rhonda Baughman

The signs are here. There. Everywhere.

And they’re always here. There. Everywhere.

They always have been – and I suspect now, they always will be.

I just had to notice them. Acknowledge them. Trust them.

Trust myself.

            2012 will be full of positive force, synchronicities, and adventure – and can be considered a catalyst for large scale change if we want it, embrace it, accept it, and oh yeah – move on it.

            The last week of March will also see the release of pivotal, 21^st century action plan Accidental Initiations (in the Kabbalistic Tree of Olympia) – or AI for short, from the mindful depths of Olympia, WA based author, actor, and musician Andras Jones.

             Strangely, the last week in March was my planned Pacific NW sojourn away from corporate America and my particular chosen week actually coincides with the book’s release. That, alongside signs too numerous to even write about (it’s a gorgeous daily occurrence now), and the fact I have decided to even take a vacation to serve a fractionally larger proportion of self rather than just others and C-America, all seem to line up according to my sense and understanding of serendipitous linear time. Or to put it more simply: I just did what Andras suggested – I evolved.

            Well … and I asked a question and followed my Radio8Ball interpretation.

             Before I even launch into my why-you-should-read-this-book conversation, I’ll give you the disclaimer that yes, I know Andras. I’m a fan of his films and a fan of his music. And I’m now a fan of his writing. I also think that while I’m proud of his new book, I’m also a little … jealous. I’m a writer. I can’t help it. I agreed to give the book a first glance-over before press – and I expected it to be good, of course … I guess I just didn’t expect it to be fucking great. I’ll take it as a sign that I just need to work that much harder on my next effort. Bright side, Rhonda. Bright side.

            AI is actually two books in one. At least, it would appear so on the surface.

            Dig a little deeper.

            It’s also a self-help book. An adventure tale. It’s a little bit history, a little bit humor, and definitely all honesty and escapade. It’s a huge hunk of magickal material that you can either dismiss and return to your comfortable routine or consciously decide to pick it up, examine it, and read at your open-minded leisure. AI has already spawned a NYC engagement and a blog sequel: the former of which I will miss and the latter I have come to understand as one of the only internet marvels to hold magick for me as well, as opposed to just my usual neo-luddite exasperation.

            Something else happened when I read AI: I found peace.

           And in the spaces between I found uses for the chaos.

           I should also admit, I annotated the text – not simply as proofreading advice, but as an academic.

           It took me a minute, but I recalled one late Richard M. Jones, academic – was the father to one Andras Jones, author. So, of course I annotated AI like I would a textbook – it can also be used as one. Andras has a new calling – he just might not know it yet, and who knows, he may decide to ignore it. The academic world would be less for it, but I would understand. Frying pan, fire, eventual crock pot, after all ….

             So when I say the book may affect readers in myriad ways, I wasn’t kidding.

             I want to meet the people who read AI.

             The ones who get angry.

            The ones who are enlightened.

            The ones who criticize it.

            The ones who embrace it.

            Call it simple … curiosity.

             Or call it anything you want, really. I would just prefer to establish a dialogue about it. I only consider AI to be one of the most important books by a new author I’ve read in the 21^st century. And my taste is picky, to be sure, but I’m not a snob. Not anymore, anyway.

Wait for the book’s release – end of March. Meet me back here – or meet me over at AJ’s AI blog. Meet me in your head. Meet someone, somewhere. Sync up.

Until then …

I.

Sometime last week, in a state of general snooty disdain, I simply could not decide what to read.

Me.

Could … not … decide … what to read.

Of all people.

Oh ye of the faithful demanding of books at Christmas time … since I was four.

Come … on …

There are hundreds of books in my dream loft – books of all shapes, sizes, and genres; books evoking myriad feelings and a range of emotions – many of them I had read before and some I had yet to open.

… but none of them spoke to me. None of them said … open me … love me … read me … none of the said I will change your day, your week, maybe your life – if you let me …

What was the matter with me?

As usual, I thought I was just over-analyzing even the simplest of decisions, when in fact, I was doing quite the opposite.

Finally, I was just listening to the little voice that asked:

What do you really want, Rhonda?

Not:

What do you think you want, Dr. Baughman?

What does someone else tell you that you want, Rhonda?

What did you want yesterday?

Last week?

Last year?

In a former life?

Instead:

What do you really want, Rhonda … right now?

And in all honesty, my response was:

I have no fucking idea.

II.

On November 23rd, before I would become dizzy from giving thanks to both a heap of food combined with time off work, I looked to my Facebook page open on my laptop, to look for reading inspiration.

The first name I see on my feed is Andras Jones – and his post:

Guiltfast starts tonight at sundown and runs thru sundown tomorrow. Let your hunger draw your attention to that which is missing before giving full-mouthed thanks to the American story.

I smile a little – for many reasons.

I hadn’t talked to Andras in a few years – and as I immediately recalled: he was a great source of book recommendations, another avid reader like myself, a voracious word-eater who might be able to push me in the right direction.

So, I pop over to his wall, say howdy – and ask:

What are you reading right now? I need a recommendation …. XO

He links me to The Sync Book.

Of course! The book was in my Amazon Wish List, but through the madness of buying books for EVERYONE ELSE for Christmas, I forgot about me.

Before I order it, I get another message:

Do you have some time to proofread something?

Strangely, and Andras doesn’t know this, but I like proofreading. It quiets my jittery nature, intrigues me enough to focus my energy: like teaching, loose change, and laundry chutes, for examples. All random, but all nonetheless operate under the same peaceful banner for me. Rhonda likes. Rhonda calm. Good Rhonda. Look at words. Play with them. Treat them well and they will befriend you forever.

Naturally, I say yes – also, I always liked AJ’s writing style as well, be it his journalistic forays or musical revolution, and I thought – let me help out a comrade … and maybe I can center a bit, scuff a little path, shed a pocket light on that eternally italicized question above. Or at least distract myself, since I was feeling a little bummed out. Dr. Rhonda Baughman is just not kosher with I don’t know. (stamps size 8 foot)

Accidental Initiations (in the Kabbalistic Tree of Olympia) arrived a few hours later to my inbox and I dug right in.

And honestly, I have been able to think of little else since.

Accidental Initiations really is going to be one of those books you dismiss early on or you will embrace it like a lost love – intensely hugging, exploring, and RSVP’ing to the invitation it is … I chose to respond to the invocation … er, … summons … I mean … the book incite … (sniff) … i-n-v-i-t-e.

You’ll see what I mean.

The sequel begins here – and as soon as Accidental Initiations is available to the public, I will post a full review here on MicroShock and implore you to read it.

I don’t really think it was an accident that I was asked to look it over: I almost feel like the book found me.

You heard me – and yes, I did just character-stamp the book and attribute to it a personality. It very much feels like a living entity – as alive as you or I. Andras, in his pithy manner, will call it magickal. I, in a bit more convoluted fashion, might say something like: ‘wow,thatwassofuckincool!Ifeelsostrangeafterreadingthiswhatdoesthismean?

I have always been from the sleepaway camp that believes there is no such thing as accident or coincidence. But I want you to read it. I want you to write about it. I want for us to talk about it. Join me on this road mind trip …

I haven’t said those things in a very long time.

And it’s been awhile since I invited people I didn’t know somewhere …

The time has come for me to do so again.

See you soon.

XOLove, Rhonda

Apocalypse Currently

By Rachelle Williams

Now was already taken.

2012 will be the apocalypse for many … some envisioned it with Nicholas Cage, some with John Cusack. Some will have followed books and billboards, preachers and poets … some see it as the end, others as a new beginning. Some will use the term apocalypse biblically, others metaphorically – and Rachelle Williams views it as just another day at the office. But this time – she’s cleaning out her desk. She’s go other shit to do.

Rachelle recently shot ‘Leaves of Terror’ in her hometown, (where yes, she was attacked by killer leaves) and ‘Hardly Beloved’ for On Mark Productions, but after her calendar shoot in 2012, shot in conjunction with Comics, Cards, and Collectibles, her work with Chris Seaver, and one more year in the quicksand pits, Rachelle will be retiring where she may pop out again for a worthwhile adventure, but most likely, she will focus on taming her id Rhonda (and if Rachelle was a thundering jolt of lunacy, Rhonda is the afterquake no one feels coming). She wishes to thank her fans, friends, and colleagues, for a successful almost decade run – it’s more than she thought she would get.

Quicksand! Year Three – Studio 588, Leslie AR July 27-29, 2011

As always, Brinke and I had a fabulous time sinking and splashing around in Arkansas in various states of costuming and role play, for what would be my third year in the quicksand pits. Year Four is a go should the contract arrive.

Our scenes this year included the following:

Buffy Von Sinking! (duet with Brinke Stevens)

They’re Not Gonna Let You Leave! (Childhood Fears) (solo, written by Rachelle Williams)

The Positives and Negatives of Forest Rangers (duet with Brinke Stevens)

Just Ducky! Cougar and Puma Yard Sale (duet with Brinke Stevens)

Master Q (solo, written by Rachelle Williams)

Stoners (duet with Brinke Stevens)

Stark Raving Ravers (duet with Brinke Stevens)

Bachelorette Survivor (duet with Brinke Stevens)

Dog & Pony Show (solo, written by Rachelle Williams)

Pirate World (solo)

The Initiation (duet with Brinke Stevens)

The Evil Landlord (duet with Brinke Stevens)

Note the ones that say: “written by Rachelle Williams”. Note it one more time. Also note that this doesn’t happen much outside the realm of Arkansas Quicksand! (and Rachelle loves that about working with Studio 588), her own projects, and most recently, a little dalliance with underground cult filmmaker Chris Seaver in a Cinema Wasteland hotel room.

Not to worry – there were too many people present for more than just a quick hug and some money exchanging hands. But really – what else would happen in a hotel room with Seaver? Especially after Canadian webmaster Nicholas Peron brought Passion Flakies from across the border … all bets for hanky panky were off. In any case, Seaver and his crew have brought Warlock Video (shot on video, silly campy schlocky horror) back to life. Rachelle will act, write, and produce a Warlock video in the near future as soon as everyone takes their attention away from the goddamn box of passionate, flake-tastic, party pastry puffs.

Stupid Flakies.

A Brief Review of Scheck’s 2010 short feature “Sprinkles”

By Dr. Rhonda Baughman

I do adore Roger Scheck – I will have to make that clear. And this review might be a little bit biased based on that aforementioned adoration. He’s just able to get inside my head, you see … and with just a little short film. I would pretend other writers and directors have been able to do so, but there’s no proof – unless you count the body in my trunk. Scheck does not need to worry about that though – I think he has a few of his ghosts to contend with, but thankfully, he does so for giddy public consumption.

Scheck slammed into my cerebral cortex in 2008 with his brilliant indie psychological horror film “Nobody Loves Alice,” to which I was able to interview baddie director Scheck for MicroShock and hottie lead Nitzan Mager (please return to us, you little minx) for cult magazine Sirens of Cinema. And with most writers I have been obsessed with, the more questions I ask, the more questions I still have … I want to ask Scheck when I meet him why he loves to root for the underdog – and does he think they should always win?

Scheck knows how to cast, as well – to give credit where it’s due. I love that I can watch a film with a face I do not recognize as being desperately overexposed or incredulous, but at the same time a face I can both identify with and can’t look away from … I could even be that face. It’s amazing this is even possible in the 21^st century, but Scheck has nailed it. Just as he did with Nobody Loves Alice, Sprinkles gives us versatile characters who you can actually give a shit about the moment they are introduced. Think about it: admit to yourself the last time you rented an indie film (or any film for that matter) and truly gave a damn what happened to one of those “actors” onscreen … Have you thought of one yet? My list is few and far between. And Scheck has proven this does not have to be the case.

Striking call girl Maura has a bone to pick with Kansas man Gary Jackson – and the only one who doesn’t suspect it is Jackson. He’s got that smarmy seen-it-all, been-there-and-done-that aura you can’t help but loathe. And yes, I got fidgety when he asks Maura to … tie him up. Yes, I always allow call girls I strike in the face to tie me up. Good going, Gary. Let’s see how long that confidence lasts.

When Maura finally breaks the final illusion that her presence is not exactly an accident – and the mayhem begins to ensue … and then just stop and think for a moment who you’re going to cheer for … who you want to win … I think I know who Scheck wants to win, but will viewers agree?

I did.

But then again … I might have my reasons for rooting for the wicked call girl, too … and so might you. Roger Scheck thinks you do, too. You don’t have to tell me about it – I just want you to think about it. Think.

So go forth and sprinkle a little Scheck into your life – and reap the sugar high.