Early this morning, I participated in an event I never would have imagined myself taking part in: I went on strike with a labor union.
Specifically, I was a guest picketer for the Writers Guild of America (WGA), joining my dear friend Sarah Watson, writer on NBC’s forthcoming primetime show, Lipstick Jungle.
For those of you unaware, the WGA is a union which represents TV, film, and radio writers. The WGA is striking against the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers (AMPTP), which is an industry trade group consisting of U.S. film production companies and studios (ie. GE/NBC/Universal, Disney, Time Warner, etc). Every three years, these organizations negotiate a basic contract. However, in 2007, negotiations failed, and a strike began on November 2, 2007.
The way I understand it (heavily dumbed down — explaining it is neither my jurisdiction nor purpose), there are two major sticking points to the WGA’s strike:
DVD Residuals The writers want 8 cents for every DVD sold, double their current 4 cents. That is 0.4% of the revenue from a $20.00 DVD.
“New Media” Residuals Writers currently get no money when their work is viewed through Internet downloads, streaming feeds, IPTV, or phone downloads. They want to receive the 2.5% for these (which is what they’re paid on traditional television).
The funniest thing about this strike is what a social event it seems to be for the writers. Everyone I talked to was in optimistic spirits, and was very friendly to Sarah and myself. After all, being out of work for many months at a time is nothing new to a writer. Among those that I met were
Craig Williams, writer of Underdog (and some really cool upcoming ideas),
Zach Estrin, Co-executive Producer of Prison Break,
The Writers are not dumb, nor are the studios. As Internet and TV are quickly merging (take, for instance, AppleTV, Verizon FIOS, and even the growing popularity of streaming protocols such as Sopcast), each side must stand their ground and try to gain as much leverage over new media as soon as possible. This is especially true since the lines between TV and Internet are blurring and all forecasts of new media are vastly underestimated.
As a Libertarian, I find the entire situation to be a slap in the face to our country’s economic system, which resembles more and more of a joke every day. While I’ve never been pro-Union, I find it absolutely ridiculous that 6 of the largest corporations in the world can unite and dominate an industry with basically no competition between each other.
Our supposed ‘free market economy’ is dominated by corporate interests which have contributed to the disappearance of the middle class — a middle class that is vitally important to the survival of any democratic government.
I fully support the writers’ power to unionize and convene, but I also fully support the corporations power to fire their employees and do things their own way. That’s business.
Although this strike has very little impact on my life and that of my family, I feel that it is indicative of the bigger picture — the pendulum has swung too far, and the time for mass corporate backlash is near.
My question to you writers is this: What next? Let’s say you get everything (or almost everything) you bargain for. You are still pawns in the system, stuck in a traditional business which does not fully understand the future of technology and no longer appreciates the people it serves.
Isn’t it time for something new? Why settle for this, when you can take a risk to do better — to compete with the system by starting your own production organization. After all, if you’re not willing to take this risk, then you’ve already lost.
An internet television network! Down with the terrestrial television networks! It is the only next logical step. Newspapers are sinking because of the internet, why not the networks? They put out nothing but crap these days anyway.
Everyone is a pawn in the system except the CEOs, so I don’t think it’s a matter of branching out and creating a writer studio. Then the actors would create an actor studio and the producers a producer studio, and television/movies would swirl further down the toilet.
If the 2.5% you mentioned is what has been the working pay-paradigm for television writers, I cannot understand how that same figure does not directly translate to “new media.” Even if the money in new media is less than that of old media, it’s still the same slice size of simply a smaller pie.
I think the way that things work now is the way they have to work, but it might take a protracted strike for these uber-wealthy studio executives to realize that Jim Morrison was right: They’ve got the guns, but we’ve got the numbers.
There’s no profit to be had in running a studio without the creative engine of writers. A new slate of reality programming might be headed our way, but I imagine while some will catch, the majority will pass by in utter failure. Writers might seem like creepy crybabies, but it takes creepy crybabies who’ve been shit on their whole lives and who were forced to develop a keen wit and wild imagination in order to overcome the bleak reality of their shituation in order to develop the bittersweet creativity necessary to create worlds and people and situations that go beyond the limits of your common yokel’s imagination.
All it takes is five minutes of YouTubing to see just why the deep pockets of major corporations are necessary to create a full season of quality programming. For ever “I like turtles” gem you find, there are literally 10,000 videos of disturbingly low-quality production and creativity. A full season of a major production like a show like Friday Night Lights, 22 episodes at 43 minutes per episode, is something like, if my multiplication is correct, and it’s probably not (I’m a writer), 946 minutes of production. “I like turtles” was 30 seconds.
So, sadly, the current system of deep-pocketed megacorps is a necessary evil.
But I agree: more competition is more than necessary.
For well over three years, I have been constantly abusing the word “humiliation”. I revel in the minor doses of fame resulting from stories of my getting into and out of pitiful situations. I didn’t know that this would happen, but it now seems as though personal humiliation is an incredible way to get attention in today’s morally-declining American society – which often equates to measures of success.
Take, for instance, the mother of all humiliations in the news recently: Miss Teen USA 2007, South Carolina – Caitlin Upton. It’s been viewed over 14 million times, and I still can’t watch the entire thing:
Ten years ago, this girl’s life would have been over. But not anymore, thanks to the Internet. Tell me, how many of you can actually recognize the winner of Miss Teen USA? I know I couldn’t, but if I saw Caitlin on the street, I’d immediately recognize her. Not only that, but she’s now had major follow-up interviews, and I can guarantee you that magazines like FHM will are trying to get her into sexy photo shoots. The landscape has changed indeed.
There are two ways which Britney could have gotten all of the attention she received:
She knocks everyone’s socks off (not likely), or
She is a trainwreck (very likely).
As expected, Britney bombed in flying colors, yielding more press than a good performance would ever have received. Her constant humiliation has kept her in the spotlight. For someone struggling to keep things alive, no press is bad press.
What hasn’t been removed from YouTube, however, is the defensively embarrassing video “LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE!” from Britney’s #1 fan, Chris Tucker. Nobody heard of this loser until this video was made. Now nearly 5 million people have watched it. In case you haven’t, here it is:
In case you didn’t know, Chris is a male, and is somehow gaining a monstrous fan base. Does anyone see a problem here?
Now let’s take a look at the lighter side of popular-culture humiliation. The Zombie Kid who Likes Turtles:
Ten years ago, 10,000 people in Portland, OR would have seen this on the evening news, said “what in the hell?”, and went to bed, all to forget about it the next day. Now, over a million people have seen Jonathon Ware — he gets recognized everywhere, t-shirts have been made with the “I Like Turtles” slogan, and there is a Washington Post Article summing up the whole experience.
For my last exhibit, my favorite humiliation of all, is “Flaming Shot Goes Terribly Wrong”:
I’ve seen this video over 50 times (more on that in the future), and laugh every time I see it. These guys are true heroes to our generation of idiots, including myself. “Flaaaaaaaaming!”
What’s the point?
My point is this. The Internet is moving towards a self-aggrandizing style of short-lived entertainment fueled by Generation Y-ers’ passion to put themselves in the spotlight at any cost. America has loved humiliation for several years, starting with the television show “COPS” and MTV’s “The Real World”, and then moving towards reality TV and shows like “Jackass”.
Your typical 30+ year old would never want to be shown on the Internet partaking in such self defeatism. They wisely cower at the sight of video cameras, and don’t want to be the center of this Internet-based attention.
Generation Y, however, is embracing that humiliation, and taking it to levels I never imagined. We are, as a young society, increasingly becoming attention-whores.
The rest of us just revel in everyone else’s humiliations because it makes us feel better about our worthless, emotionally-neglected selves, thanks to the lack of proper parenting because we decided to toss a generation of children in extended day care rather than raise them like normal humans just so that everyone could afford a 3,000 square foot house and country club membership.
Whew - that was all very profound……….However, the best (and of course, my favorite) was your last paragraph….. Let it be known, Mikey Roberto was NOT A DAY CARE KID…… Hence, the reason our family was never rich (in $$$) or belonged to a country club. I’d like to think he was raised by “normal humans”, but then, where did all this humiliation come from………….Gotta love him!!!
Holy crap, that leave britney alone video can NOT be real. That kid needs a serious ass whoopin! Unless he is home schooled, he will probably get one soon.
As of right now, it’s looking rather promising that good ol’ Hillary Clinton may indeed be the Democratic Party’s 2008 Presidential candidate. Guess what - I am actually pulling for her to win the Democratic primaries. Those of you who know me best must be wondering what is going through my head, as I agree with almost nothing this socialist woman says. And that is still a true statement.
However, more than politics, I am a fan of chaos and disorder. It is actually inscribed on my personal emblem, shown to the side. Just imagine the chaos that would ensue if this woman ran for President. This country would be turned absolutely upside down, and that would be a riot to watch. Blogs would be bursting with fantastically incredulous write-ups. Political debates would actually feature some (but not much more than the John Kerry era) estrogen. Rednecks and businessmen alike would be up in arms. And Fox News would nearly implode.
And while I continue to support Texas Congressman Ron Paul for President, I would sit on the sidelines saying, “This is good for our country. We needed to get our rotten eggs scrambled up a little bit”.
Here in the wonderful United States of America, we are well on our way to declaring English to be our official language. Senate Bill S. 2611 passed 62-35, and now needs to pass the House of Representatives. Having lived in Texas and Los Angeles, I almost thought we’d make the official language Spanish. But I was wrong.
So let me tell you how infuriated I get when I have to do extra work because I follow the damned rules. As if it’s not bad enough to have to deal with automated telephone systems, I am now asked to press 1 for English
Excuse me? I’m pretty sure that I am the default. I shouldn’t have to do jack shit to speak English[1]. In fact, I should be given free discounts because I speak the damned language.
And that upsets me to the point of abusing customer service representatives (who are, by the way, quite possibly the most abused people in the world — especially if they’re really speaking that awful flavor of Indian-English).
So my ultimatum is this: if you ask me to press 1 to speak English, I am not going to. I am going to sit there. And wait. And if I get disconnected, you will lose my business. If I get forwarded to an operator, I will then tell them about my new refusal to press 1 to speak English, at which point they will roll their eyes and forward me to the proper Indian-speaking rep.
Furthermore, my solution to the afflicted situation is simple, and done by most responsible-behaving organizations: quickly state “Habla ‘espanol’ a hablar Espanol”, or something like that, pause for 3 seconds, and carry on in English if nothing is said.
Once we’re there, I am then in favor of allowing absolutely anyone who can grasp this to become a US citizen, so long as they don’t commit violent crimes (and if they do, I am also in favor of torturing them).
In conclusion, I will no longer press 1 to speak English. And if you think you’re going to change me, you must have forgotten how stubborn of a Roberto I am. I do not change. I will die not changing, and I would rather die than press 1.
[1]Unless I’m calling Japan, and at that point I am actually more interested in speaking Engrish.
Throughout the early stages of her blossoming film career, Lindsay Lohan lived a relatively normal and peaceful Hollywood teenage life, if such a thing exists. However, in 2005, something happened. She began making headlines and was continually involved in negative news articles. After arduous thought, I have finally put a finger on what happened to cause this shift in behavior. I have found that Lohan was confronted by a force in her life that shook her foundations and changed the very spirit within her. A force bigger than you, bigger than me, and most definitely bigger than the young Lohan. So great, we can hardly even imagine the crushing impact this force must have on one’s soul. That force is Peter Griffin.
In 1998, Disney blessed the world with the motion picture debut of Lohan in the remake of The Parent Trap. The unoriginal yet successful film launched a career full of cutesy, teenagebopperslop that no longer limited the innocently attractive Lohan to commercials and soap operas. During this time, there were typical teenage altercations, such as the feud with Hilary Duff over the theft of Duff’s boyfriend. But in 2005, things really began going downhill, and haven’t stopped since.
It is of no coincidence that just around the time when Lohan’s screws were literally coming loose, Fox released Family Guy Presents: Stewie Griffin - The Untold Story. In a sub-plot of this humorous movie, Peter Griffin begins starring in a role titled “What Really Grinds My Gears” on the local news station, where he rants about something that bothers him.
It sounds innocent enough, but one such episode would go on to change the Hollywood landscape for a decade, possibly more:
You know what really grinds my gears? This Lindsay Lohan. Lindsay Lohan with all those little outfits, jumping around there on stage, half-naked with your little outfits. Ya know? You’re a… You’re out there jumping around and I’m just sitting here with my beer. So, what am I supposed to do? What you want? You know, are we gonna go out? Is that what you’re trying to - why why are you leaping around there, throwing those things all up in my, over there in my face? What do you want, Lindsay? Tell me what you want? Well, I’ll tell you what you want, you want nothing. You want nothing. All right? Because we all know that no woman anywhere wants to have sex with anyone, and to titillate us with any thoughts otherwise is - is just bogus.
– Peter Griffin, The Stewie Griffin Story
The force seen above began to rear its ugly head during its conception throughout 2005. Lohan’s apparent loss of focus put her in the news threedifferenttimes when she continued to get into car accidents. A mysterious, dark fog had been cast over the essence of Lindsay Lohan.
Troubles continued with multiplehospitalvisits for her seemingly out-of-control eating, drinking, and smoking habits.
Lindsay’s eventual viewing of The Stewie Griffin Story was when things must have been put into perspective for her, but the process was slow. I imagine she watched the above scene over 50 times, contemplating the effects of her life and career upon the rest of the world.
And who could blame her? What would you do if an overweight, fictitious character who represents America’s blundering and dwindling middle-class had just told you that your entire existence is one big tease upon the world? That you are nothing but a pair of sticks and circles, here to somehow simultaneously impress men into thinking they have a chance with someone like you all while being forced into becoming a role model to the most forlorn group of adolescent girls that this society somehow managed to vomit upon older generations? Lindsay was confused at first, and rightfully so — it is a rare circumstance when a cartoon character crams your entire life into a 40 second diatribe.
The first phase of Lindsay’s path to realization was confusion. Poor driving, alcohol and cigarette abuse as linked above. The next phase was anger, which couldn’t have been helped by the divorce of her low-life parents.
After anger comes apathy, an emotion I am extremely knowledgeable about. After all, why bother caring about anything when you are coming to the realization that your boobs are carrying you rather than the other way around? Lohan then began missing studio sessions. Might as well go and have a fun time, no?
And finally came clarity. Self-realization. Lindsay Lohan declared that she would no longer be Peter Griffin’s slave of frustration. She would no longer be cast in the throes of tyranny as specified by fat men who prefer suing children and their mothers rather than fostering family values. She would no longer pretend to do the job of negligent parents in entertaining and impressing upon their bastard children while said parents chase the misinterpreted American dream with their 60-hour work weeks because their warped vision of true happiness is the escalating competition with their contemptible neighbors by purchasing shinier cars and all-brick homes that masquerade the empty misery of all members within.
Lindsay Lohan had finally come undone. No longer an impossibility to Peter Griffin. The question of whether she wants to “go out” has been answered (the answer is “no” if you couldn’t figure it out). No longer a cute role model for Soccer Mom USA to throw a video in front of little Sally while she runs next door for a mid-afternoon booty call with the neighbor. This, of course, being the same mother who urges Sally to “do as I say and not as I do”. Lohan had effectively shattered the double-standard of my generation in the course of one drunken interview.
Well Lindsay, the wise, old staff here at MikeRoberto.com wishes you well in your campaign against Peter Griffin. We support your regrettable interviews. But just note two things: 10 years from now, when we see a picture of your haggard face in some mug-shot, you will have wished that you took better care of your body. And second, don’t drink and drive — you’re already a bad enough driver around here as it is.
Early this morning, I participated in an event I never would have imagined myself taking part in: I went on strike with a labor union.
The funniest thing about this strike is what a social event it seems to be for the writers. Everyone I talked to was in optimistic spirits, and was very friendly to Sarah and myself. After all, being out of work for many months at a time is nothing new to a writer. Among those that I met were
The Writers are not dumb, nor are the studios. As Internet and TV are quickly merging (take, for instance, AppleTV, Verizon FIOS, and even the growing popularity of streaming protocols such as Sopcast), each side must stand their ground and try to gain as much leverage over new media as soon as possible. This is especially true since the lines between TV and Internet are blurring and all forecasts of new media are vastly underestimated.
As expected, Britney bombed in flying colors, yielding more press than a good performance would ever have received. Her constant humiliation has kept her in the spotlight. For someone struggling to keep things alive, no press is bad press.
However, more than politics, I am a fan of chaos and disorder. It is actually inscribed on my personal emblem, shown to the side. Just imagine the chaos that would ensue if this woman ran for President. This country would be turned absolutely upside down, and that would be a riot to watch. Blogs would be bursting with fantastically incredulous write-ups. Political debates would actually feature some (but not much more than the John Kerry era) estrogen. Rednecks and businessmen alike would be up in arms. And Fox News would nearly implode.
In 1998, Disney blessed the world with the motion picture debut of Lohan in the remake of 
It is of no coincidence that just around the time when Lohan’s screws were literally coming loose, Fox released 
Troubles continued with 
And who could blame her? What would you do if an overweight, fictitious character who represents America’s blundering and dwindling middle-class had just told you that your entire existence is one big tease upon the world? That you are nothing but a pair of sticks and circles, here to somehow simultaneously impress men into thinking they have a chance with someone like you all while being forced into becoming a role model to the most forlorn group of adolescent girls that this society somehow managed to vomit upon older generations? Lindsay was confused at first, and rightfully so — it is a rare circumstance when a cartoon character crams your entire life into a 40 second diatribe.
And finally came clarity. Self-realization. Lindsay Lohan declared that she would no longer be Peter Griffin’s slave of frustration. She would no longer be cast in the throes of tyranny as specified by fat men who prefer suing children and their mothers rather than fostering family values. She would no longer pretend to do the job of negligent parents in entertaining and impressing upon their bastard children while said parents chase the misinterpreted American dream with their 60-hour work weeks because their warped vision of true happiness is the escalating competition with their contemptible neighbors by purchasing shinier cars and all-brick homes that masquerade the empty misery of all members within.
Lindsay Lohan had finally come undone. No longer an impossibility to Peter Griffin. The question of whether she wants to “go out” has been answered (the answer is “no” if you couldn’t figure it out). No longer a cute role model for Soccer Mom USA to throw a video in front of little Sally while she runs next door for a mid-afternoon booty call with the neighbor. This, of course, being the same mother who urges Sally to “do as I say and not as I do”. Lohan had effectively shattered the double-standard of my generation in the course of one drunken interview.
lon said,
11.28.07 at 7:38 am
An internet television network! Down with the terrestrial television networks! It is the only next logical step. Newspapers are sinking because of the internet, why not the networks? They put out nothing but crap these days anyway.
John Handcock said,
11.28.07 at 10:19 am
Everyone is a pawn in the system except the CEOs, so I don’t think it’s a matter of branching out and creating a writer studio. Then the actors would create an actor studio and the producers a producer studio, and television/movies would swirl further down the toilet.
If the 2.5% you mentioned is what has been the working pay-paradigm for television writers, I cannot understand how that same figure does not directly translate to “new media.” Even if the money in new media is less than that of old media, it’s still the same slice size of simply a smaller pie.
I think the way that things work now is the way they have to work, but it might take a protracted strike for these uber-wealthy studio executives to realize that Jim Morrison was right: They’ve got the guns, but we’ve got the numbers.
There’s no profit to be had in running a studio without the creative engine of writers. A new slate of reality programming might be headed our way, but I imagine while some will catch, the majority will pass by in utter failure. Writers might seem like creepy crybabies, but it takes creepy crybabies who’ve been shit on their whole lives and who were forced to develop a keen wit and wild imagination in order to overcome the bleak reality of their shituation in order to develop the bittersweet creativity necessary to create worlds and people and situations that go beyond the limits of your common yokel’s imagination.
All it takes is five minutes of YouTubing to see just why the deep pockets of major corporations are necessary to create a full season of quality programming. For ever “I like turtles” gem you find, there are literally 10,000 videos of disturbingly low-quality production and creativity. A full season of a major production like a show like Friday Night Lights, 22 episodes at 43 minutes per episode, is something like, if my multiplication is correct, and it’s probably not (I’m a writer), 946 minutes of production. “I like turtles” was 30 seconds.
So, sadly, the current system of deep-pocketed megacorps is a necessary evil.
But I agree: more competition is more than necessary.
Sarah said,
11.28.07 at 1:28 pm
Even an anti-union libertarian seems to get it. Why can’t the studios?
Thanks for supporting us on the picket line. When we win our fight, I’ll use my four cents to buy you a piece of bubblegum.