Post by Phil Atken on Oct 26, 2012 18:11:00 GMT -4
We find ourselves in a dimly lit room with a cardboard cut out of a roaring fire sitting next to an oversized armchair and a side table that contains nothing but a decanter full of brandy and a single glass. We hear the sound of a crackling fire emanating from somewhere, quite possibly from directly behind the cardboard cut-out.
Phil Atken walks on to the set, the top few buttons of his shirt are undone, his tie is a little loose around the neck as if to say that this session we are about to embark on is pure “cas”. Phil plunks himself down on the large and rather comfortable looking armchair, leaning his right arm forcefully on the well... arm of the chair as he leans in towards the camera.
Atken: I'm glad you could find the time to join me. I know with today's hectic world and all those marvelous technological advancements that there's a lot to of wonderful, marvelous things all battling with each other to get your attention, perhaps you've not been keeping up on APW as much as you used to. It's understandable. However, you've decided to spend some time with dear ole Phil and I must extend a hefty load of gratitude to you and after we're done here, you'll extend that same gratitude back to me. Me and you viewer, we're not a one way street, far from it. You'll get as much out of this cozy chit chat as I do. I'm all about the giving back.
Phil pours out some brandy from the decanter and holds it up towards the camera, as if to say cheers to you, the viewer! Yes, you! The viewer!
Atken: It has been quite the journey, has it not my friends? Quite the journey indeed. A mere year ago, I sat here in good old Tokyo, in a hotel room that was not quite as flash as my current accommodations and I told you all, the fine APW interview watching public that I, Phil Atken, was about to make amends for his missed opportunities. A year ago I sat here and promised that I was finally going to redeem myself for the years that I wasted my potential. That I would no longer let opportunity slip through my finger tips. I tried to convince you and really, I tried to convince myself that I was a changed man. They do say that the most convincing con-man is the one who buys into his own lie. It would explain Michael Callahan.
Phil swirls the glass around in his hand, gives it a quick sniff and then downs it in one.
Atken: Now, I ended up fourth in that Battle Royal. I didn't even get on the podium. The chance of redemption had come and it had passed and as I stood there, all I had was an umbrella and a bowler hat. I was a fraud in the eyes of you, the APW faithful. I was driven by glory for glory's sake and I was hurt by it. I wanted to redeem myself but I didn't really have any purpose or drive to do so. I was still the same old Phil. The frustrated outsider wishing just once he could show people what he was capable of.
As 2011 came to a close, it was the same story. Opportunities just fell by the wayside, I watched as Chaz Dillinger handed a contract for a World Heavyweight Championship shot that I had just battled for away to his master, Nate Havok. I watched our dearly departed Nate steal that win and the title away from Jason Kash and I looked on with envy. I commented to anyone who listen, anyone who just happened to walk by me that the title should've been mine, that Havok was enjoying my moment in the sun. I was driven by envy. Christmas Choas could have been much different if I had any real purpose, any real goal. To want the title for the sake of it, to walk around and claim your the champ, that's not purpose, no matter what my chamber colleague may lead you to believe.
Atken reaches around behind his armchair and pulls out a little plastic baggy with a lot of shredded paper in it. He waves it around in front of the camera and continues on.
Atken: I continued to seek relevance as we moved forward to the year of our lord, 2012. I'm a man who has a set of what I view as good and decent guiding principles and with the best will in the world, I thought that my fellow wrestlers would hold those same principles. I thought that the guys backstage, they'd be very concerned about their own safety, that despite what ever may simmer within them, you should always prioritise your own health above anything else. I held a simple petition in my hand. The one you see the remains of in this bag...
Phil shakes the bag in front of the camera again.
Atken: … turns out President Jeff didn't care much about the health of his talent, turns out most of the talent didn't care about their own health. Very few were willing to join my cause, take up arms to stop the Survive and Conquer match, a match that left the APW exposed to surprise attacks from miscreant outsiders, who may I add received very little reprimand or police action for their attacks. You'd almost swear the whole thing was encourage. Still, I humbly presented my petition to Jeff, I had hoped he would see sense and realise that APW could not continue the way it was, that we should be at the forefront of embracing safe and practical lesson, over the cheap tricks that weapons and violence brings. We should've been an industry leader on this, not lagging behind like some sloth. President Jeff tore up my petition, my hard work, live on Pay Per View and then had me hauled out of the arena. I keep this bag to remind me what brought me to the chamber. That the beliefs I held then are ones I still hold true now. I keep that bag to remind me of how innocent I was thinking I could achieve my goal with a good-natured discussion alone. It's a shrine to my own naivety and failure. That moment at Survive and Conquer was pivotal for the man you see before you now, the man who could beat the clock, the man who drove Shane Borderland to the drink and out of the chamber, the man who knows his calling in this industry.
Phil puts the bag back away and pulls up a framed picture of himself sailing into a bathtub full of tea at Rasslemania.
Atken: Of course the long journey from Survive and Conquer until now, it wasn't smooth, Rasslemania for example. APW's biggest event of the year, the time to showcase what you're made of. Turns out I was made of scalding burns by shows end. Julius and I, we had a fight over something that just seems so trivial in retrospect. A man is entitled to his own tea preferences, they are not what we should be fighting for, they are not what we should be striving for. Still, I only have myself to blame. I got sidetracked from my true cause in this company to have a petty battle with a generally fine, upstanding and moral character. One of the few who was willing to sign my petition, a man who knows this company needs to be purged at the top but instead of aligning with him, we allowed ourselves to be pawns. We let Jeff and his puppet Reggie drive that wedge between us, to make us a mere sideshow at Rasslemania in a match that would ensure one of us would end up as living, breathing punchline by the end of the night. I was burned by that, literally, but Rasslemania is what I would call a teachable moment. It's why I keep a framed picture of that humiliating moment. I want these mementos of my mistakes to be burned into my head. I want to see them the second I close my eyes. These are the moments that have brought me the closest I have ever been to my ultimate goal.
Atken rummages around at the side of his chair once more, this time pulling up a picture of himself, Dirk Dickwood and Hank standing around the old Atken's Asylum set. All three of them with broad smiles and Phil giving a disconcerting smile to the camera.
Atken: Ah, now this. This was the worst moment of all. This picture represents me becoming complicit. This is what giving up looks like folks, take a good, long hard look at it. I know I have on many an occasion. I was no longer a man fighting for his belief in a misguided way, I wasn't even a man led down the wrong path due to his misguided obsession with the correct preparation of tea, instead I had bought into the company. I was a mouth piece for APW. I was their damn minstrel, welcoming people like Johnny Knuckles, men who embrace the very thing that I stood defiantly against for a little bit of light hearted banter and good natured trolling. I had lost my way for a safe spot with the company. People classified my interviews as “hard hitting” but all I was doing was acting as an attack dog, distracting attention from the bigger issues. I should've had Michael Callahan on, I should have asked him about the Pro-Life title and his philosophy on violence. If anything, it would have added to the exposure of showing just how large a fraud he is now. Instead I wallowed in the filth with those who knew no way but violence but instead of showing them the light, I went for the fight. The things I could have done with that show but I didn't. It haunts me and it hurts me.
Phil puts the Atken's Asylum photo down on the ground.
Atken: Speaking of Mr. Knuckles. I must thank him. I'm sure he'd be the last guy to come up and thank me though. One day he will though. He may be limping around promising to fight till his dying breathe right now but retirement is in that man's future and he will thank me for it. He will appreciate that I saved him from himself. That's why I must thank Johnny. I must thank him for snapping me out of my Talk Show stupor and realising that I needed to return to my cause. That I needed to tirelessly campaign for the health and well-being of my fellow man, even if they themselves did not realise they needed my help. Now, I'd learned my lesson from Survive and Conquer, I knew that paper work and debate wasn't going to spread my message of sanity. No, I needed something grander...
Phil grabs the last photo of his collection, a picture of him standing atop a stack of televisions, Johnny Knuckles buried beneath them.
Atken: I needed to show those unwilling to help themselves the error of their ways and what better way to do it than bury the poster boy for violence, the man who felt he was superior to me because he embraced the way of weaponry, Johnny Knuckles, under a pile of televisions. This picture is a warning shot. It's one of those “teachable moments” I was talking about earlier. Johnny though, he's a slow learner, he tried to stop me on my way to the chamber and he failed. He's going to try and prove himself in a Death Match Battle Royal and he will fail. His career ended at Shockwave, he just hasn't realised it yet. He will though and he will realise the error of his ways when he does. He will take up my cause and he will fight on the side of good. He just needs to walk away from the brainwashing provided to him by Reggie's busty secretary. People may say lust was his downfall, it wasn't, it was ego. It was the refusal to learn. I learned, that's why I stand where I do now. That's why I'm the last to enter the chamber match. I learned and I rediscovered my purpose. I'm not that Phil who arrived in APW a year ago with the mindset of glory for glory's sake. I'm a man with a defined purpose and message. I'm also a man above the fray, I'm not driven purely by self-interest. Not like my pals in the chamber.
Phil takes down the last picture and places it safely with the rest.
Atken: Those pictures remind me where I came from to get here. To remind me not to betray myself and my beliefs just for the briefest hope of getting that World Heavyweight Title but that's exactly WHY I will win. My opponents? They are as fake as the fireplace in this room. No, seriously.
Phil kicks the fireplace and the cardboard cut-out falls over.
Atken: That shit's fake and well, so are they. I think that's why they don't like to acknowledge me. It must make them uncomfortable to be around a man of principles. I mean, let's explore them, shall we?
Michael Callahan, as we've discussed, a man I once actually respected. I didn't like him, how could you? I did respect him however. He refused to use weapons on moral grounds, now I wish that was due to some kind of understanding of the impact it would have on his fellow man but hey, good enough for me. The minute the World Heavyweight Championship gets within his grasp, that's all out of the window. Now he fancies himself as the next big MLB star. He's a fraud.
Johnny Rebel wishes to be considered something of a renegade, a lone man and a lone star. Of course this runs a little bit counter to his frail and failed attempts to negotiate alliances like some desperate Survivor contestant.
Keaton Saint, a man who claims to just want to show case his abilities clearly doesn't want to go through the awful rigamarole of actually deserving to be in the chamber. He'd much rather get his spot handed to him than earning it.
Sally Talfourd, she isn't doing this for her, she's doing it for the fans, she wants to give them a show. Until the cameras turn off and your six year old wants an autograph from her at the airport. Then you might as well play hide and go fuck yourself. Must be nice up there on the moral high ground all the time Sals.
And our current champion, Asylum's leading light. A man who can't even keep his family together, never mind be our champion. A man who tries to justify stealing a victory after Sally was attack by a vicious, manic drunk. Yet he still plays himself as that happy go lucky humble gentleman, unless you happen to be Michael Callahan, then he doesn't believe much in turning the other cheek. He'd rather make your personal life a public issue too.
What is the common link? They don't want this victory to champion a cause, they want this belt to champion themselves. They want glory for glory's sake. Just like I did one year ago. Maybe they'll learn too.
Phil Atken walks on to the set, the top few buttons of his shirt are undone, his tie is a little loose around the neck as if to say that this session we are about to embark on is pure “cas”. Phil plunks himself down on the large and rather comfortable looking armchair, leaning his right arm forcefully on the well... arm of the chair as he leans in towards the camera.
Atken: I'm glad you could find the time to join me. I know with today's hectic world and all those marvelous technological advancements that there's a lot to of wonderful, marvelous things all battling with each other to get your attention, perhaps you've not been keeping up on APW as much as you used to. It's understandable. However, you've decided to spend some time with dear ole Phil and I must extend a hefty load of gratitude to you and after we're done here, you'll extend that same gratitude back to me. Me and you viewer, we're not a one way street, far from it. You'll get as much out of this cozy chit chat as I do. I'm all about the giving back.
Phil pours out some brandy from the decanter and holds it up towards the camera, as if to say cheers to you, the viewer! Yes, you! The viewer!
Atken: It has been quite the journey, has it not my friends? Quite the journey indeed. A mere year ago, I sat here in good old Tokyo, in a hotel room that was not quite as flash as my current accommodations and I told you all, the fine APW interview watching public that I, Phil Atken, was about to make amends for his missed opportunities. A year ago I sat here and promised that I was finally going to redeem myself for the years that I wasted my potential. That I would no longer let opportunity slip through my finger tips. I tried to convince you and really, I tried to convince myself that I was a changed man. They do say that the most convincing con-man is the one who buys into his own lie. It would explain Michael Callahan.
Phil swirls the glass around in his hand, gives it a quick sniff and then downs it in one.
Atken: Now, I ended up fourth in that Battle Royal. I didn't even get on the podium. The chance of redemption had come and it had passed and as I stood there, all I had was an umbrella and a bowler hat. I was a fraud in the eyes of you, the APW faithful. I was driven by glory for glory's sake and I was hurt by it. I wanted to redeem myself but I didn't really have any purpose or drive to do so. I was still the same old Phil. The frustrated outsider wishing just once he could show people what he was capable of.
As 2011 came to a close, it was the same story. Opportunities just fell by the wayside, I watched as Chaz Dillinger handed a contract for a World Heavyweight Championship shot that I had just battled for away to his master, Nate Havok. I watched our dearly departed Nate steal that win and the title away from Jason Kash and I looked on with envy. I commented to anyone who listen, anyone who just happened to walk by me that the title should've been mine, that Havok was enjoying my moment in the sun. I was driven by envy. Christmas Choas could have been much different if I had any real purpose, any real goal. To want the title for the sake of it, to walk around and claim your the champ, that's not purpose, no matter what my chamber colleague may lead you to believe.
Atken reaches around behind his armchair and pulls out a little plastic baggy with a lot of shredded paper in it. He waves it around in front of the camera and continues on.
Atken: I continued to seek relevance as we moved forward to the year of our lord, 2012. I'm a man who has a set of what I view as good and decent guiding principles and with the best will in the world, I thought that my fellow wrestlers would hold those same principles. I thought that the guys backstage, they'd be very concerned about their own safety, that despite what ever may simmer within them, you should always prioritise your own health above anything else. I held a simple petition in my hand. The one you see the remains of in this bag...
Phil shakes the bag in front of the camera again.
Atken: … turns out President Jeff didn't care much about the health of his talent, turns out most of the talent didn't care about their own health. Very few were willing to join my cause, take up arms to stop the Survive and Conquer match, a match that left the APW exposed to surprise attacks from miscreant outsiders, who may I add received very little reprimand or police action for their attacks. You'd almost swear the whole thing was encourage. Still, I humbly presented my petition to Jeff, I had hoped he would see sense and realise that APW could not continue the way it was, that we should be at the forefront of embracing safe and practical lesson, over the cheap tricks that weapons and violence brings. We should've been an industry leader on this, not lagging behind like some sloth. President Jeff tore up my petition, my hard work, live on Pay Per View and then had me hauled out of the arena. I keep this bag to remind me what brought me to the chamber. That the beliefs I held then are ones I still hold true now. I keep that bag to remind me of how innocent I was thinking I could achieve my goal with a good-natured discussion alone. It's a shrine to my own naivety and failure. That moment at Survive and Conquer was pivotal for the man you see before you now, the man who could beat the clock, the man who drove Shane Borderland to the drink and out of the chamber, the man who knows his calling in this industry.
Phil puts the bag back away and pulls up a framed picture of himself sailing into a bathtub full of tea at Rasslemania.
Atken: Of course the long journey from Survive and Conquer until now, it wasn't smooth, Rasslemania for example. APW's biggest event of the year, the time to showcase what you're made of. Turns out I was made of scalding burns by shows end. Julius and I, we had a fight over something that just seems so trivial in retrospect. A man is entitled to his own tea preferences, they are not what we should be fighting for, they are not what we should be striving for. Still, I only have myself to blame. I got sidetracked from my true cause in this company to have a petty battle with a generally fine, upstanding and moral character. One of the few who was willing to sign my petition, a man who knows this company needs to be purged at the top but instead of aligning with him, we allowed ourselves to be pawns. We let Jeff and his puppet Reggie drive that wedge between us, to make us a mere sideshow at Rasslemania in a match that would ensure one of us would end up as living, breathing punchline by the end of the night. I was burned by that, literally, but Rasslemania is what I would call a teachable moment. It's why I keep a framed picture of that humiliating moment. I want these mementos of my mistakes to be burned into my head. I want to see them the second I close my eyes. These are the moments that have brought me the closest I have ever been to my ultimate goal.
Atken rummages around at the side of his chair once more, this time pulling up a picture of himself, Dirk Dickwood and Hank standing around the old Atken's Asylum set. All three of them with broad smiles and Phil giving a disconcerting smile to the camera.
Atken: Ah, now this. This was the worst moment of all. This picture represents me becoming complicit. This is what giving up looks like folks, take a good, long hard look at it. I know I have on many an occasion. I was no longer a man fighting for his belief in a misguided way, I wasn't even a man led down the wrong path due to his misguided obsession with the correct preparation of tea, instead I had bought into the company. I was a mouth piece for APW. I was their damn minstrel, welcoming people like Johnny Knuckles, men who embrace the very thing that I stood defiantly against for a little bit of light hearted banter and good natured trolling. I had lost my way for a safe spot with the company. People classified my interviews as “hard hitting” but all I was doing was acting as an attack dog, distracting attention from the bigger issues. I should've had Michael Callahan on, I should have asked him about the Pro-Life title and his philosophy on violence. If anything, it would have added to the exposure of showing just how large a fraud he is now. Instead I wallowed in the filth with those who knew no way but violence but instead of showing them the light, I went for the fight. The things I could have done with that show but I didn't. It haunts me and it hurts me.
Phil puts the Atken's Asylum photo down on the ground.
Atken: Speaking of Mr. Knuckles. I must thank him. I'm sure he'd be the last guy to come up and thank me though. One day he will though. He may be limping around promising to fight till his dying breathe right now but retirement is in that man's future and he will thank me for it. He will appreciate that I saved him from himself. That's why I must thank Johnny. I must thank him for snapping me out of my Talk Show stupor and realising that I needed to return to my cause. That I needed to tirelessly campaign for the health and well-being of my fellow man, even if they themselves did not realise they needed my help. Now, I'd learned my lesson from Survive and Conquer, I knew that paper work and debate wasn't going to spread my message of sanity. No, I needed something grander...
Phil grabs the last photo of his collection, a picture of him standing atop a stack of televisions, Johnny Knuckles buried beneath them.
Atken: I needed to show those unwilling to help themselves the error of their ways and what better way to do it than bury the poster boy for violence, the man who felt he was superior to me because he embraced the way of weaponry, Johnny Knuckles, under a pile of televisions. This picture is a warning shot. It's one of those “teachable moments” I was talking about earlier. Johnny though, he's a slow learner, he tried to stop me on my way to the chamber and he failed. He's going to try and prove himself in a Death Match Battle Royal and he will fail. His career ended at Shockwave, he just hasn't realised it yet. He will though and he will realise the error of his ways when he does. He will take up my cause and he will fight on the side of good. He just needs to walk away from the brainwashing provided to him by Reggie's busty secretary. People may say lust was his downfall, it wasn't, it was ego. It was the refusal to learn. I learned, that's why I stand where I do now. That's why I'm the last to enter the chamber match. I learned and I rediscovered my purpose. I'm not that Phil who arrived in APW a year ago with the mindset of glory for glory's sake. I'm a man with a defined purpose and message. I'm also a man above the fray, I'm not driven purely by self-interest. Not like my pals in the chamber.
Phil takes down the last picture and places it safely with the rest.
Atken: Those pictures remind me where I came from to get here. To remind me not to betray myself and my beliefs just for the briefest hope of getting that World Heavyweight Title but that's exactly WHY I will win. My opponents? They are as fake as the fireplace in this room. No, seriously.
Phil kicks the fireplace and the cardboard cut-out falls over.
Atken: That shit's fake and well, so are they. I think that's why they don't like to acknowledge me. It must make them uncomfortable to be around a man of principles. I mean, let's explore them, shall we?
Michael Callahan, as we've discussed, a man I once actually respected. I didn't like him, how could you? I did respect him however. He refused to use weapons on moral grounds, now I wish that was due to some kind of understanding of the impact it would have on his fellow man but hey, good enough for me. The minute the World Heavyweight Championship gets within his grasp, that's all out of the window. Now he fancies himself as the next big MLB star. He's a fraud.
Johnny Rebel wishes to be considered something of a renegade, a lone man and a lone star. Of course this runs a little bit counter to his frail and failed attempts to negotiate alliances like some desperate Survivor contestant.
Keaton Saint, a man who claims to just want to show case his abilities clearly doesn't want to go through the awful rigamarole of actually deserving to be in the chamber. He'd much rather get his spot handed to him than earning it.
Sally Talfourd, she isn't doing this for her, she's doing it for the fans, she wants to give them a show. Until the cameras turn off and your six year old wants an autograph from her at the airport. Then you might as well play hide and go fuck yourself. Must be nice up there on the moral high ground all the time Sals.
And our current champion, Asylum's leading light. A man who can't even keep his family together, never mind be our champion. A man who tries to justify stealing a victory after Sally was attack by a vicious, manic drunk. Yet he still plays himself as that happy go lucky humble gentleman, unless you happen to be Michael Callahan, then he doesn't believe much in turning the other cheek. He'd rather make your personal life a public issue too.
What is the common link? They don't want this victory to champion a cause, they want this belt to champion themselves. They want glory for glory's sake. Just like I did one year ago. Maybe they'll learn too.
