Hong Kong Seafood Basket at Cuz’s Uptown BBQ:

Crawdad found in Cuz’s swimming pool:

Mike’s new dog Punky:

Cousin Mary and Aunt Bebby:

Brother Arthur gives a speech at Ming’s rehearsal dinner:

Father of the bride gets uncharacteristically emotional:

Cousin Gus and my father:

Julia goes southern:

Uncle Kip Chez Biggs:

Mother & Son:

Stepmother & daughter:

Julia goes Old [...]]]> Trailer in the Chinese buffet parking lot:

Hong Kong Seafood Basket at Cuz’s Uptown BBQ:

Crawdad found in Cuz’s swimming pool:

Mike’s new dog Punky:

Cousin Mary and Aunt Bebby:

Brother Arthur gives a speech at Ming’s rehearsal dinner:

Father of the bride gets uncharacteristically emotional:

Cousin Gus and my father:

Julia goes southern:

Uncle Kip Chez Biggs:

Mother & Son:

Stepmother & daughter:

Julia goes Old South:

The wedding: Uncle Tim presides:

Bride + Babe:

More to come…

I arrive at the Sony lot at approximately 1:30, for the [...]]]> Note to readers: during one of our site upgrades, the original review seems to have been lost. Thus, I am reposting it here, as I feel it’s one of my better pieces. This is the article I published here on the day PASSION first opened

I arrive at the Sony lot at approximately 1:30, for the 2pm Monday screening of “The Passion of the one-and-only Jesus Christ.” There has been a 10 a.m. show, but only aging early risers like Kevin Thomas actually enjoy seeing a movie at that hour. A security guard asks if I’m there to audition: Noting my hair, he says he saw an actor on the lot in flag-colored pants and jacket. I tell him no, I’m here to see the Jesus movie. “Don’t go rooting for the Romans, now!” he says. I say that I heard they’re actually the good guys in the movie, and it’s the Jews who are villains. He utters some noncommittal response.

Entering the screening room, I head for the front, and sit beside a distinguished-looking couple. There’s an earring on the floor in front of me, so I ask the couple if it’s theirs. They take it, and seem to know who it belongs to. The man asks me if I work for the studio. I say no, I’m a movie reviewer. He seems pleased by that, and asks who I write for. I tell him the New Times chain, and he asks if the Village Voice is part of that. It isn’t, but at least he’s got the right concept, which is more than most people comprehend. He asks when my review will run, and I tell him we already have a New Times review by another writer, but I may do something for my own site. I tell him the URL, and he repeats it, then asks what the L stands for. I say Luke. He offers his hand.

“Luke, pleased to meet you. I’m Bob Dornan, and this is my wife Sally.”

Now, those of you not from California may need a bit of context here. Bob Dornan is a former Republican congressman from Orange County, a firebrand conservative in a similar camp to Wally George and Dr. Ted Baehr, known as “B-1 Bob” for his gung-ho military views. In Michael Moore’s book “Downsize This,” there’s a whole chapter in which Moore analyzes Dornan’s occasionally erratic behavior and then tries to have him committed. Needless to say, Bob and I are the sort of folks who you might not expect to see having a cordial conversation. Yet we were, and we were about to see a movie about loving your enemies, so why dwell on the disagreements? He’s certainly the last person I’d expect to see at a press screening, though “The Lonely Passion of Jesus H. Christ” is a special case, obviously.

Instead of politics, we discuss the merits of sitting in the front row of a theater. Bob and Sally and I agree that people who sit at the back are lame. Sally theorizes that it may be so they can watch the audience reaction (not a bad theory; I agree with Bob that the critic is supposed to go with one’s own reaction, but certainly if one dislikes a film and the audience loves it, that’s something to mention). I offer a theory of my own — that one reason many critics don’t like action movies is that they sit way back at a distance, and don’t get immersed in the thing.

Bob says one of the museums in Europe has the nameplate from the original cross of Jesus, and it’s so frail looking you’d think it would turn to dust if you touched it. Sally asks what I thought of “Jesus of Nazareth.” I told her I remember liking it, but haven’t seen it since I was a kid. This leads to some discussion on the current whereabouts of actor Robert Powell.

Manohla Dargis and David Poland both mock my front-row stance. Jeff Wells simply waves hello.

So, onto the movie itself:

First of all, I’m not going to go into the background of whether or not the New Testament is anti-Semitic. Newsweek has a good piece on that you can read HERE. [alas, lost link; I'm not gonna go digging for that one again -- LYT]

As to whether or not “the Jews” killed Christ, I don’t think even fundamentalism really supports that. John 3:16, the favorite Bible verse of many a devotee, clearly states that God Himself sent his son to die, because he so loved the world.

As to historical accuracy, Jeff Wells did a good piece on that some months ago. Nails through the palms = unrealistic for supporting a man’s weight, despite what Audioslave songs might have you believe (and Aramaic and Latin might not be the correct languages, historically; even Movieguide says so). The ersatz-Catholic thriller “Stigmata” explained this. Still, Mel Gibson’s a devout Catholic, and most crucifixes show nails through the palms. Also indicating the Catholic perspective is the use of all the Stations of the Cross.

And those are…? Basically, Catholics have blocked out the entire march to the cross scene-by-scene, and each scene is a “station,” expanding on things mentioned merely in passing in one gospel or another. Among other things, the stations spell out exactly how many times Jesus fell down.

In general, I’m going to assume that “plot spoilers” are irrelevant to the bestest story ever known. Mel adds a few things that aren’t in the Gospels, though. Among other things, after Jesus is captured, en route to the Sanhedrin, he is wrapped in chains and thrown off the side of a bridge bungee-jump style, probably cracking his ribs. Judas (Luca Lionello) is at the foot of the bridge, and he shudders to see this. Then a CGI wolf-demon briefly materializes behind Judas. Not making this up.

As to anti-Semitism: Well, I guess it goes without saying that I’m not Jewish. I can’t experience this movie as a Jew. David Poland, who is Jewish, finds it anti-Semitic. I don’t (in contrast, David doesn’t find “In America” racist, while I do). First of all, even though Jesus is played by lilywhite Jim Caviezel (albeit with brown contacts and darkened skin), there are a mix of Jews with traditionally “Semitic” facial features and those without on both sides. As to the Jewish priesthood, Mel makes it clear that they don’t all agree about executing Jesus, and after the execution, when God fucks up their shit in the Temple, they all seem to regret it. Many people will take from this movie whatever baggage they brought in. I could make a case that the film’s point is that religious nutbags are insensitive fuckheads who support the inhumane death penalty even when it’s clearly wrong.

Gays and transgenders should be more offended than Jews. King Herod is depicted as an obese mincing queen, while Satan (Rosalinda Celentano) appears as an androgynous, bald woman with a man’s voice. If Satan looked like Dustin Hoffman, we could talk serious anti-Semitism, but this devil seems like a butch lesbian to me.

I am concerned that fundamentalist parents will take their children to this and give them nightmares for the rest of their lives. Not only is the film brutal in its torture of Christ — at one point, a cat o’nine tails sinks into his flesh and sends little chunks of Jesus-meat flying into the face of a Roman torturer — it’s also scary: Satan has an army of demon-children, whose faces occasionally morph into those of hairy old men. One of the kids bites a chunk out of Judas’ arm. There’s a dead donkey consumed by maggots. A crow pecks out the eye of a man who’s still alive. I once joked about Spawn creator Todd McFarlane doing gruesome Jesus toys, but this movie would be no stretch at all. Movieguide hypocritically considers this film acceptable to all ages, but it is most definitely not, no more so than “When the Wind Blows” (a cartoon about old people dying from nuclear war) was for me at age 6.

Gibson’s a bombastic director — we know this. I know the dove is the symbol of the Holy Ghost, but cinematically, a slo-motion dove is the symbol of past-his-prime John Woo. Slo-mo is excessive here. The ancient language is a nice touch, way better than Shakespearean English or Marty Scorsese’s Brooklyn street talk. I do applaud the subtitles, though. The most subtle touch is when the woman, I think named Veronica, wipes Jesus’ face en route to Calvary, and an imprint of his face appears on her cloth. Gibson doesn’t hammer that image home, but lets us catch it if we can.

I may sound like I’m dogging the movie, but overall, I think it’s a good one. It packs a helluva punch, and you feel every ounce of the brutality. In dealing with just the last day of Jesus’ life, the movie basically depicts the pacifist Jesus, the one who preaches love, as opposed to the intolerant, genocidal bastard who appears in John’s dream in Revelation. The flick shows Jesus as a man, humanizing him rather than making him an abstract holier-than-thou symbol. There’s a flashback scene showing him working as a carpenter that adds much-needed humanity — that he’s impudent to his mother, even in jest, during that scene implies that he may not have been so sinless after all. The most brutal moment in the film is when Jesus falls in front of his mother’s eyes, and we flash back to toddler Jesus falling on the hard ground in front of younger mom. Any kid can relate.

Scripturally, I have one or two issues — the film opens with a quote from Isaiah, and many serious scholars believe Isaiah was predicting a Messiah for his day, NOT Jesus, as was retroactively proclaimed. Also, Mary Magdalene (Monica Bellucci, showing up solely to look pained) is depicted as the prostitute from the “He who is without sin, cast the first stone” story; as far as I remember, the Bible never says that was her — it was just assumed later.

Hey Mel, I have to ask, what’s up with your nose fetish? Satan has a maggot crawl out of her nose and back in again, while Judas, during the first Sanhedrin trial, scratches his nose against the temple wall repeatedly. Does he have allergies? Is he drunk? Whassupwitdat? Is it a Semitic thing?

Major kudos, though, on the handling of Peter’s (not-related-to-Danny Francesco De Vito’s) threefold denial: I’ve seen it done before, but this is the first time I’ve believed and understood why he’d be that way.

Also cool is the way the resurrection is handled. Some may find it too Terminator-like, but I found it a welcome understatement within the sermon.

So what if you don’t believe? Hey, I don’t believe it literally, but it is a movie, after all — it’s a great story, too, certainly as compelling as “Dead Man Walking.” Think of it as sci-fi: A being with near-endless power (Galactus, maybe?) is disappointed in his creation, but to preserve it, makes himself vulnerable on the same level so that his creations may torture and kill him, and he can share in their weaknesses in order to provide redemption. If you didn’t know that was a Bible story, you’d go see it. C’mon.

Have to admit, though, I am curious as to how my more vehemently atheistic friends will react.

Bob’s wife Sally was in shock afterwards, I just nodded and said, “I know.” It’s a strong film, and I imagine many Christians who consciously shield themselves from graphic violence may never have experienced anything like it.

Manohla Dargis, meanwhile…well, I guess I shouldn’t spill the beans, since she’s working on her own piece. But the hate mail should be interesting.

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It is a match made in metaphorical, non-denominational Heaven. And their Titanium [...]]]> On January 2nd, Max Mohr and Jesse Appler got married in Bodega Bay, California. It was a wild, non-theological ceremony full of all kinds of unique new traditions and vows. Mike Stephan and I were in attendance, and Matt King showed at the after-party.

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It is a match made in metaphorical, non-denominational Heaven. And their Titanium wedding rings enable the wearer to open beers with a flick of the finger (yes, seriously).

Best wishes to the new Mr. & Mrs.

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Sherborne Abbey – the great-grandkids practice singing.

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Sherborne main street.

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Self-portrait in my funeral attire.

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Train through Bradford-on-Avon, new hometown for my mother.

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Jaz and Zeta Graham, possibly the two most beautiful-looking kids in the world.

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Yo-ho, yo-ho.

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Mannequin Catfight!

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My grandfather’s local church.

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In England, even the warning signs are well-mannered.

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My grandfather’s grave – [...]]]> Even the advertising image of this burger looks unappetizing.

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Sherborne Abbey – the great-grandkids practice singing.

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Sherborne main street.

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Self-portrait in my funeral attire.

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Train through Bradford-on-Avon, new hometown for my mother.

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Jaz and Zeta Graham, possibly the two most beautiful-looking kids in the world.

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Yo-ho, yo-ho.

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Mannequin Catfight!

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My grandfather’s local church.

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In England, even the warning signs are well-mannered.

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My grandfather’s grave – his coffin is biodegradable, and a tree is due to be planted on top next month.

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I need a drink.

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There are more…click any of these images to be taken to my Buzznet gallery for the rest.

I kicked it off by writing: “In many sci-fi movies, among them District 9 and Return of the Jedi, a human speaks to an alien in English, while [...]]]> Had an interesting discussion on Facebook today that I thought worth sharing. Participants will be referred to only by first initial, lest they not wish to be named.

I kicked it off by writing: “In many sci-fi movies, among them District 9 and Return of the Jedi, a human speaks to an alien in English, while the alien speaks alien-talk, yet both totally understand each other. In real life, with different human languages, when does this EVER HAPPEN?”

and thereafter, followed:

S: babelfish.

W: Family dinners on my mother’s side of the family. My uncles speak to their kids in German… my cousins speak back in English.

LYT: Nope, like the Star Trek universal translator, [babelfish] doesn’t count…as a translator is sourced within the narrative. Biggest offender is the Jabba/Leia-in-disguise/3P0 scene in Jedi…interpreter Threepio translates both alien languages into English, even though neither participant in the conversation ostensibly speaks it.

LYT: W – fascinating. Do they understand each other?

P: I have seen people do this, but in the Scifi world I always just figured alien tounges and soft palates were too different to speak huminoid dialects, but ears are ears.

W: Yeah, they totally understand each other. It’s just that the one is more comfortable speaking one language, and the other… the other. I kinda get it. My aunt speaks in English, too. She’s tired of German. So she’ll carry on a conversation with other Germans entirely in English… which they all understand but prefer not to speak. This is actually… See More common in a lot of immigrant families. I’ve had friends from Korean, Chinese and Armenian households where the exact same thing goes on. Oddly enough, I’ve never seen this happen in a Spanish-speaking household.

M: My previous ex-girlfriends did the same thing with their parents/grandparents and was indeed fascinating. I could still follow the conversation by listening to their responses. I also remember seeing it done in the movie Crazy/Beautiful – It’s quite enjoyable when it’s done. Makes the future seem much more interconnected, diverse and seemless.. nice.

J: In Miami, everyone assumes you speak Spanish. While I do, it annoys me when people assume I do and start talking to me in Spanish. So I respond in English. It pisses them off because they know I understand but I refuse to indulge them. It’s wonderful. It also happens in my family. People talk to me in Spanish but I’ll always respond in English unless they only speak Spanish.

G: I like Paul’s sci-fi explanation, it’s one I can get behind.

W: Actually, come to think of it… I do this myself when I’m in France. I’m the only one of my cousins that does not speak German, so I can’t participate in that game, but I do speak French. And I find it incredibly annoying when I’m in Paris that I walk into a store, speak to them in French… and they speak back in English as if saying, “I need to practice my English and I know you’re American so I’m just going to speak to you in English…” And being stubborn, I reply again in French. So it’s precisely that scenario – but it gets kind of tense because neither of us is willing to yield and start speaking in our native language in order to appease the other. That’s happened in Cannes, too. I hate it. So yes, I’ve lived this very thing as well. But not in a good way.

Not long before he died, Peter Graham started a Facebook page.

Probably not everyone here knows what that is, so let me explain: Facebook is an Internet social networking site originally designed for college and high-school students to network with each [...]]]> [written and delivered by Luke Y. Thompson, Nov. 20, 2009, at Sherborne Abbey in Dorset, England]

Not long before he died, Peter Graham started a Facebook page.

Probably not everyone here knows what that is, so let me explain: Facebook is an Internet social networking site originally designed for college and high-school students to network with each other. It’s grown a bit beyond that now…but I’m not sure “86 year-old retired vicar” was ever in the imagined demographic.

Now, let me tell you why that’s significant. I live in Hollywood, and work in the media, and the way older people are so often portrayed is exemplified by Grandpa Abe on The Simpsons: Scared, senile, conservative, stuck in their ways. Now, I’m not saying my grandfather was never stuck in any ways…for example, I don’t think he could ever bring himself to eat a whole banana. But if it ever became clear to him that he was set in a way that was detrimental – he worked to change it. I’m told he used to smoke heavily…but not while I’ve been alive. And far from fearing the new, he embraced it as best it suited his purposes…he was my first ever cinematographer, combining his then-brand-new Betamax camcorder with my youthful, unpolished script attempts. He was one of the first in the family to really embrace email, on which he would often debate me about the awful things “my country” was doing – that’s how he always phrased it, “YOUR country” (It’s not all my fault!). And his personal page is still standing on Facebook.

A few years ago, I remember helping him deliver the local village circular, to approximately 25 houses, at least one of which had a frightening dog. I looked through the circular myself, and in it was a column he had written. I asked him if he had any older ones, and he obliged showing me a binful of back issues, and I said, first to myself and then him, “This is too good to only be read by 25 people.” I asked him then if he’d let me set up a website for him, where people across the ocean who needed to read an intelligent, progressive Christian thinker could interact with him. And he liked the idea…but the fear of spam took hold, and he said he didn’t want that; however, he’d send me the columns each month, and I could do as I pleased with them.

So I ran them on my site. The first or second time I did, one of the readers left a comment: “Can we clone your grandfather?” I said I thought he’d been plenty fruitful and multiplied the old-fashioned way, and besides, you’ve got ME… I’m the watered-down version. Later, I got him to take reader questions, and he got quite a following that I’m not sure he entirely knew about, but would have loved. If anyone here follows movie websites based out of Los Angeles, you would recognize some of the bylines of people who read his words…one of the creators of the movie “Snakes on a Plane” sent me his condolences when he heard the news. Peter Graham was larger than life…and judging by the turnout here today, he’s also larger than death.

My grandfather shared many words of wisdom over the years, and while I didn’t always agree with all of them, there are one or two I like very much. The first, is that he said we should always endeavour to act as if there is no such thing as giving of offense, only taking offense…and we won’t do that.

The second is a bit more oblique, but just as significant from a man of the cloth: “There are very few absolutes…and one of them is that there are very few absolutes.”

I don’t know if the love he tried at all times to walk in counts as an absolute; but I can say that it was felt – and is missed – absolutely.

The second women’s match of the night featured one ex-WWE diva (fittingly, the one who doesn’t have a generic look and therefore was seemingly losing Vince’s interest, plus she’s not [...]]]> Okay, this whole thing is taking longer than I thought to get through…but we will. I’m just getting warmed up for the really good stuff, too.

The second women’s match of the night featured one ex-WWE diva (fittingly, the one who doesn’t have a generic look and therefore was seemingly losing Vince’s interest, plus she’s not 20 years old any more) and two women that there’s no way in hell would ever be pushed “up north.” The ex-diva, formerly known as Victoria, is now Tara, and maintains her spider fixation…now amped up with the addition of a pet tarantula in a glass case (echoes of Goldust bringing a pet rat when he was known as “Black Reign”…what is it with TNA and verminous sidekicks?).

The other ladies include the earlier mentioned Awesome Kong…younger fans may not know that Awesome Kong used to be the name of a masked male wrestler who was fat and hairy, but just like WCW repurposed the name “Gorgeous George” for Randy Savage’s girlfriend, Awesome Kong is now making the name better known than ever. It’s hard to define exactly what her gimmick is aside from being huge and fierce – she has the name of a gorilla, braided hair, and a Roman gladiator outfit. Also a female manager named Raisha Saeed, whose role is of a Muslim woman in full Hijab. That’s quite the confusing multicultural combo, not unlike, say, Taco Bell’s “Mexican Pizza.”

The third woman in the match, ODB, is a character I can totally get behind: her gimmick is that she’s an awesome drunk slut who likes to flash panties and rub her own boobs. They never ever ever say it out loud on TV, but her initials stand for One Dirty Bitch. And she’s big and curvy, but in the right proportions. Chugging liquor from a flask is part of her prematch ritual, which rocks.

The tough part about matches involving Kong is that she’s so much bigger than most other female wrestlers that it’s hard to believe anyone is a challenge to her. This is akin to the problem with someone like the Great Khali, except because WWE writers are insane and have lousy senses of humor, they always end up having him lose to Hornswoggle the midget leprechaun. TNA have Kong pose a legit challenge, and in this match, have maybe found the only two worthy opponents – ODB is big enough, and Tara is legit tough enough. So the match was pretty well-fought. At one point Tara got in a fight with someone in the crowd, and it was hard to tell if this was real or a plant, especially since security took out the interloper on the aisle right beside me, and she looked athletic, not like a typical fan. Later I found out online that this was Kim Couture, wife of UFC star Randy Couture, who’s been having an Internet war of words with Tara. Not part of the script, though maybe they should make it so. Except that would encourage legitimately crazy bitches to attack the stars.

Anyway, the match ends after Raisha Saeed, not previously at ringside, comes running to the ring, and keeps trying to give Kong a chair, which Kong does not want. Is she turning good? Sales of her T-shirts doing well amongst fans who finally have a star they can relate to? Kong ends up the victim of the chair, as ODB does a facebuster right as Raisha slides the chair in again, where it falls perfectly into place for Kong’s head to hit it. Good work on that choreography. ODB wins, and it looks like Kong will turn on the evil Muslim, which is naturally a recipe for fan cheers. Cultural stereotypes still play well in the ring.

Big, bald, black giant Bobby Lashley took on the totally non-ripped but frightening Samoa Joe in a submission match, designed to capitalize on Lashley’s actual side career in MMA, and Joe’s gimmick as an MMA-type wrestler. Joe now wears face paint that looks like a tribal tattoo…this may be a dig at the fact that WWE’s “Umaga” character was supposedly intended for him originally. Lashley, pushed to the moon as a super-good-guy by WWE back in the day, is not well-liked by “smart” fans, i.e. fans who aren’t young kids and cheer for who they want to cheer for. But nobody seems to have told Lashley this – he posed for the crowd like a good guy, and performed like one. There wasn’t really a video explaining this fight, so I don’t know for sure who was meant to be good or evil in this contest, but the fans kept chanting “Lashley sucks!” Joe totally dominated the match, only to have Lashley pull out a triangle choke at the last minute and win. He posed like a hero, but nobody cared. After he left, (and I think once the cameras were off the ring), Joe got back in and received a loud ovation. Since Lashley signed a deal that allows him to do MMA as well, I suspect part of it is that TNA not make him look too weak to have street cred for the octagon. But that’s just a guess.

And then…There Will Be Blood. Which, as a fan, I like to see if it’s appropriate. And when the match in question is called “Monster’s Ball,” and features Abyss, a crazy half-masked mofo who actually has scars across his own tattoos, it is appropriate.

Abyss’ opponent for the night is veteran Mick Foley, which is something of a dream match since Abyss basically started out as a rip-off of Foley’s original “Mankind” persona: a basement-dwelling loon in a medieval restraint mask. Like Foley, Abyss’ character has evolved somewhat, and now he wears flannel and speaks coherently. Foley was long ago supposed to have retired from hardcore matches, but like his idol Terry Funk, seems unable to stay away.

What makes the match a Monster’s Ball, it seems, is that the fight can go anywhere and involve any thing, provided that whatever “thing” is taken up is wrapped in barbed wire. Stevie Richards, now known as “Dr. Stevie,” is the special guest referee.

The video highlights make it look like Foley treated Abyss as a protégée and then turned on him. Make no mistake, Foley has been a great bad guy in the past, but nearly always as a result of playing a butt-kissing sell-out who turns his back on the violence the fans love him for. In a hardcore weapons match, you want the fans to root against him? Ain’t gonna – and didn’t – happen. Not that they booed Abyss, because they like him too, but the “Foley!” chants were the loudest, again reiterating my point from previous installments that “legends” are nigh-impossible to turn heel.

Abyss has jets of blue flame as part of his entrance. Creepy.

Foley began the match by teasing a big fall – climbing the pylons at the side of the entrance stage. But then Abyss followed him up there, and got kicked down, taking the obligatory big bump into some tables below. It wasn’t clear at that point if the match would be ending early to set up some even bigger, grosser thing in the future.

But then as Foley goes to the ring to celebrate, Abyss crashes up through the ring ramp. Cool, I’ve never seen that before. The fight continues. Abyss sets up a barbed wire board balanced between the ring and the audience barrier. Any knowledgeable fan at this point will guess that whatever the ending of the match is will involve this bit of foreshadowing. Hardcore matches are often like movie scripts in this regard, all about the planting and payoff.

Abyss is bleeding a lot by the end. Foley less so. Foley is still doing the silly sock-puppet bit. I’ve never been a big fan of the idea that a sweaty sock stuck in an opponent’s mouth is a lethal weapon. Even the notion of a “mandible claw” was a stretch to begin with, as a victim can surely just bite down hard. Happily, Abyss dodges the mighty sock. Then there are shenanigans as Dr. Stevie turns out to be totally on Mick’s side, and will not count pinfalls for Abyss. Abyss takes him out, so another ref comes down. Right as the other ref is about to score the win, Stevie wakes up and kicks ref #2’s ass.

Then Daffney the Evil Goth Chick comes running down to ringside. I didn’t even know she was with TNA, but that’s what happens when you don’t have cable. I do kinda wish that the video package had indicated Daffney and Stevie’s role in this whole story, but honestly, it wasn’t too hard to follow the plot in medias res, as it were.

Anyway, it turns out that the bit of foreshadowing at the beginning of the match was for Daffney, who took the fall straight through it. Abyss knocks out Stevie and Foley, then slaps Stevie’s hand to the mat three times for the most unofficial official three-count I’ve ever seen.

Knowing it would take a while to clean up the mess, I went for my second beer, then damn near spilled it on the way back when Matt Morgan came out to a sudden, loud BANG. Not expecting that kind of volume.

Morgan’s match with Kurt Angle was a good match, but after so many gimmick matches, it almost felt like a letdown. Kurt’s new unshaven look seems really odd to me, since his whole persona is based around the fact that he’s a perfectionist, but maybe he’s trying to be gangsta…his new t-shirt has a picture of a rose on it and calls him the Godfather. Which is fine except for the fact that wrestling fans have long been taught to associate the word “Godfather” with a pimp who says “It’s time once again for everybody to come aboard the HO TRAIN!” I hear the guy who played that role, Charles Wright, now owns a strip club in Vegas or something.

Anyway, Angle does his still-impressive bit where he pretends to be hurt, waits for his opponent to climb to the top rope, then gets up, runs up the turnbuckle and belly-suplexes the guy. He won, but the way he shook Matt Morgan’s hand afterwards was clearly supposed to make it look like a win-win situation.

Up until this point, I would say that BFG was MUCH better than WWE Summerslam, which I was also at live. But what came next would have put anything over the top.

All that was left now was the main event. Except I was not going to get to watch it in the way I had anticipated. A colleague of Marcs came to our seats and beckoned us to follow him. We did, as he went down to the floor.

I passed by Jeff Katz, whose American Originals company has a business deal with TNA. He beckoned me over, but I had to follow Marc or lose him, so I figured I’d have to catch Jeff later. And as Marc walked quickly, I followed him behind a big black curtain, and…

Holy shit I am backstage. The PPV feed is playing on a big-screen TV, as just about every talent in the TNA locker room are circled around it in chairs, watching. I am standing directly behind Bobby freakin’ Lashley to see Sting versus AJ Styles on a backstage monitor. Rhino is watching the most intently, almost like he plans to “gore” the TV if it talks smack to him.

Daffney is being taken out on a stretcher. Looks like she really got hurt going through the barbed wire.

Biggest surprise is that Mick Foley is taller than I thought. Dude is taller than me by a few inches.

Overheard, not sure of the speaker: “Whatever happened to Van Hammer?”
“He’s in rehab again.”
“That guy was cool.”

Marc introduces me to Christopher Daniels, who seems like a smart dude. Most wrestlers I’ve met in my life totally seem like friendly jocks, but there are some, like Chris Jericho, who always seem to be thinking, and Daniels came across like that. Later I read that he suffered a separated shoulder during the Ultimate X match, but I would never have known he was even in pain just by talking to him.

Given the circumstances, keeping both eyes on the match at hand was not the easiest thing to do, and I was surprised that AJ Styles beat Sting cleanly and pretty suddenly, it seemed to me. As Sting starts to talk on the mic, I am ushered into another room, where the post-show press conference is set to be.

This room appears to be the land of leftovers from old shows – not TNA shows, but any and all. Lots of stuff covered up, and a giant cyborg head on the wall above the area where TNA have put the podium and backdrop to make things look official. Marc offers to let me talk to any of the talent one on one, but having not brought my recorder I tell him not to worry about them; I will just listen and take fast notes as they address the Internet fans.

The format of this press conference is that a handful of the stars are here, and they take questions from one guy, who also reads one or two from the Internet. Most of the questions are “kayfabe,” i.e. they don’t break character or storyline. Eric Young, who will be up first, is openly discussing the extent to which he should be answering in character or not; D-Lo Brown, now a road agent for the company, looks to be giving him some advice on that. Ultimately he comes off as the most similar to his TV persona.

He’s asked about a cut on his head received during the match. “We didn’t plan for it but I pulled through and it’s not that big of a deal.” Says the biggest deal was winning, and it was all thanks to “mental capacity – it’s one of my #1 strengths and I exposed him [Hernandez] tonight.” Says he wants to challenge AJ Styles for the world title at next year’s Bound For Glory. How long does he think he’ll hold the title? “I don’t like to put a timeline on it, but forever sound good to me.”

He’s then asked what wrestler from any timeline he would go against if he could. Behind the camera, D-Lo raises his hand and points excitedly to himself. Alas for D-Lo, Young names Ric Flair instead.

Up next is Matt Morgan, who is barely audible, so soft-spoken that this can’t possibly be totally in-character or he’d yell more. He calls Kurt Angle “the ultimate chess master” and said he has “a thousand and ten percent respect for Kurt.” (He’s an athlete, not a mathlete.) Says that Kurt whispered in his ear that this is the furthest he [Kurt] has been taken in any match. Could be true, could be story, I suppose.

Morgan says it was “shocking” to have Kurt raise his hand afterward, but the match was close: “My shoulder went up at three and one hundredth of a second.” Is finally asked if he, as a seven-footer who is in good shape and can actually move around the ring, represents a change for how the business sees big men. He says he hopes he’ll force future giants to raise their standard.

And now it’s time for Christopher Daniels, who is also soft-spoken. He also seems to be being himself rather than a character. How does he feel? “A little beaten up, sore.” How was the match? “A blur, watching the mat come at me at 90 miles per hour.”

At this point Sting walks right in front of me and grabs a bottle of water. It’s a bit surreal.

Asked if Ultimate X is an instant respect-builder, Daniels says, “It’s not really wrestling; the object of the match has so little to do with wrestling, but rather what you are willing to put on the line…if there’s any question about how far Daniels is willing to go, I hope they’re answered.”

Next door, there’s loud clanging as something is being dismantled. It’s distracting. Someone goes next door to try to stop it.

Daniels is done now anyway. AJ Styles’ turn. He’s hard to hear also, as ambient noise is getting louder. “I won the match, but I wish he could have still won, if that makes sense.” How do you feel? “Beat up.”

Now it sounds like there’s a fight next door. Again someone goes back to try and keep things down.

“I wasn’t surprised by Sting. Sting’s an icon – you know what you’re getting into.”

“Sting and I are more than just friends, we’re believers.”

He’s asked about his new powder blue/pink/white tights. “It’s not because I think I look beautiful in pink.” It turns out it’s for breast cancer awareness. “I got an aunt who died.”

What would he say to Sting, if he could? (Clearly a “kayfabe” question since, well, Sting is standing right next to me, and could certainly be spoken to directly.) “Thank you, thank you for your friendship, you’re an awesome mentor, thank you for being patient with me, thank you for all those quiet moments where it was just you and me sharing the Gospel.”

Wow, AJ is gosh-darn clean cut for a wrestling good-guy. This is the sort of stuff fans nowadays often boo…but he is such a daredevil in the ring that they dig him despite the clean image. He seems totally sincere too, unlike a certain other person in another company whose name I shall not mention.

Next, and last, is Sting, or as everyone has specifically called him tonight, The Icon Sting. And in case you’re confused, yes he is middle-aged, but no, he is not an English pop star. Steve Borden, not Gordon Sumner.

One of the signs in the crowd earlier: “Goodbye Sting. Hello Realtor Steve.”

Sting has donned a clean T-shirt, but still has the remnants of his facepaint on.

Sting is asked to compare AJ to Ric Flair. Lot of Flair mentions tonight; could this be a tease that they’re trying to make a deal with the “retired” but apparently financially strapped legend? I have no idea, but it’s odd to officially mention someone who isn’t part of the company like that. [UPDATE: this all may have been a classic bit of misdirection, since it now appears that a deal with HULK HOGAN was being worked out the whole time. Which is not to say Flair couldn’t follow.]

Sting responds, regarding AJ: “He cannot be compared to anyone. AJ is probably the innovator of innovators. His creativity is endless.”

Sting is more audible than most of the previous talkers; he enunciates. Hard to say if he’s “in character” since the character and the real man have merged over time (though thankfully he doesn’t evangelize on TV).

Where does this match rank, career-wise? “It’s too early to tell, but right here at the getgo, I can tell you it’s gonna be top 3”

What if he retires, and goes out having lost this big match? Says he was determined that “win or lose, it wasn’t gonna define me, it wasn’t gonna define my career.”

Can he sum up his time in TNA? “I have tried on 3 or 4 occasions now to stop – I feel like Pacino from SCARFACE, every time I try to get out, they pull me back in.” (actually, I believe that was GODFATHER 3, but Sting is nonetheless probably better at film criticism than I’d be at wrestling, so let’s move on)

“I don’t even wanna talk about a rematch with AJ right now. Not right now.”

He says he used to ask Ric Flair why he kept wrestling when he had nothing left to prove, but now he understands the desire to stick around. “The crowd in California, they make me wanna stay, that’s for sure.”

Does he have anything left to prove? “No. I don’t”

(Again with the Flair name-drop? Hmmm.)

Is this your last match?

“I just don’t know right now.”

(when wrestlers say that, it usually ends up meaning “no.”)

Here endeth the press conference, and here beginneth our search anew for Daniels, who was with Marc’s daughter (nothing untoward, just hanging out somewhere we didn’t know). The problem was that even though we were kinda VIPs, we had no passes of any kind, and as soon as we checked out by the loading dock, security wouldn’t let us back in the building.

I had Wayne’s World 2 flashbacks. “My [daughter]’s in there!” “A lot of people’s [daughters] are in there.” That wasn’t what was said, but I reckon the security guy was thinking it.

We finally found Chris, and I asked him to apologize to Katz for me for missing him. On the way out, I went into the men’s room and referee Earl Hebner was washing his hands.

Walking to the car, some guy saw my T-shirt, and recognizing it as the one worn by many crew, yelled out, “How can I work for TNA?”

“I have no idea!” I said.

But I would suggest maybe moving to Florida for starters.

[All photos are courtesy of and copyright TNA Wrestling, used with permission. Click on images for a larger version]